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CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SOUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST.
YOL. 46—NO. 6.
A RELIGIOUS AND FAMILY PAPER,
PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN ATLANTA, GA.
J - «T. TOON", Proprietor.
FOK TERMS -REFER TO SECOND PAGE
Colleges—Endowments—Grammar Schools
Theological Schools.
Brother Editor: —l have a desire to say
something more on these subjects. The edu
cation of the heart and intellect, always im
portant, is doubly so now, because of our pe
culiar circumstances. This is the only way
in which we can perpetuate Southern ideas
and Southern feelings. Some would bavtTrije
great Northern and Southern tides of society
“ meet, and mingle,and merge” in each other.,
I am not of that number, (unless the “ ascen
dency of the” Southern “ element can lie se
cured.”) lam enlisted for life to aid in see
ing that it be not so—not in the spirit of an
tagonism, but of an honest zeal for the just
and the true. *
We cau expect few colleges to be endowed
which are not already built up. And this,
after all, is not so much to be regretted. We
have a good many left, after the wreck—
enough, perhaps, to provide the higher edu
cation for all qualified applicants. A few well
endowed institutions in each State are enough,
especially if confined, as they ought to be, to
giving instruction in the higher parts of learn
ing. They have too often been chiefly occu
pied with the province of the grammar
school, teaching the merest elements of sci
ence and the rudiments of letters.
We need a series of good grammar schools
more than any thing else—where the lan
guages, the pure mathematics, and the out
lines of philosophy, shall be thoroughly taught,
as almoners to the colleges and the university,
and where a sound education may be had
without recourse to endowed institutions.
Such institutions, though few, have been in
valuable to the country in the past. They
ought to be multiplied. They supply, largely,
what every experienced man knows to be most
indispensable—intellectual training, necessary
knowledge, and the foundation of generous
culture and high intelligence. Why should
not every strong Baptist church have such an
institution under its particular care, in which
the children and youth of the community and
idjacmt country should receive their early
raiui lg ? It need not be sectarian ; it need
have 10 features to which any man believing
the Bible and approving its morality and re
ligion could rationally object.
A few theological institutions, well equipped
and v well manned, were enough. And these
might <be LmiiThavd-by the best,
most prosperous colleges, belonging—n<p mat
ter to whom. That was a very wisefc move
ment of our Presbyterian brethren, when
they built their theological school beside the
bfcate College in Columbia, S.*s. *A literary
and theological institution combined costs
much more than the latter by itself. Why
incur this additional expense ? If denomina
tional influence is the object, that is best se
cured by the unobtrusive method of placing
our Strongest usd best men where, without
ai on their part, the rising intelligence
am influence of the country will be acted
upn by virtue of proximity and dint of con
sult contact. lam not acquainted with the
actal facts, but I dare say that the professors
in te theological school at Columbia exert
mor influence over the young men of the
Statt attending the college there, than they
wouli if the denomination to which they be
long iwned it.
The-e has been a great want of economizing
risources by attempting to build up too many
institutions of learning that aspire to be called
coleges. Half the unnecessary expenditure
in >rick and mortar might have dotted the
couitry all over with substantial academy
buildngs, in permanent centres of popula
tion, Oi the same hill with the meeting house.
Christian men ought to be abov, the petty
ambition of illustrating the village r. which
they may happen to live with a mis-n.rhed
pile of brid<s, denominated a college. L«t
the best places for the cause of learning and
religion be selected, and let all, far and near,
unite to build up the interests which are to
cheer and bless the coming times.
E. B. Teague.
The Preparation of Sermons. —To Young
Preachers.
A full discussion of this subject is not in
tended; nor,is it designed to intimate that
the processes recommended, will be best for
•very one. But the hope is indulged that
jflfee addressed will be benefited, or these
Jpcles would not be written. The writer
not claim to have conformed to the rules
to be laid down, but only to have become
convinced of their value, and importance.
Alan ! he is too sensible of his defieiences to
propose himself, in any sense, as a
the preacher should aim
to accomplish a definite result. Ihe objects
will of course vary in different sermons: but
each sermon should have its own distinct pur
pose Lt is impossible to accomplish every
thing in one discourse. Usually, not more
than one result can be well secured. This
result is to be effected in the minds of the
hearers. PreacKng is valuable only as it
offeefs those to whom it is addressed. From
these reit»Hrks the following observtfions -foU
low :
1. Before Commencing the composition of
a sermon, there should be a distinct and well
defined conception of the otyect be accom
plished by it; and this object shouH be per
sistently hold before the mind throughout the
entire process. Without this there will be a
want of unity and force. Young preachers
are in imminent danger of a desultory and
rambling method. It is infinitely more easy
for them to declaim upon a number of topics,
than accurately ana clearly to discuss one.
Rut such a course foust be destructive of
mental discipline and vigor, and put an end
to all progress; and the habit onee formed,
can be overcojne only with exceeding
FRANKLIN PRINTING HOUSE, ATLANTA, GA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 31, ‘ IR6L
culty. Such sermons fail to rrAke a strong
and controlling impression. The thoughts
may be just and valuable, buL.Aieir''value can
not be appreciated- I once htai*d a sermon?
replete with evangelical trutls-copafiared to a
collection of-choice jewels ji ?thrbwn 'together
into a basket. A few brilliants, well arranged
in a suitable setting, would have shone with
far more beauty and splendor.
2. A sermon should be so constructed that
each succeeding topic adds to the impressive
ness of what has preceded—the whole culmi
nating in the desired result. But care must
be taken that the several parts be not so de
pendent as to demand a distinct perception
and remembrance of this dependence, to the
effectiveness of each. Few hearers, compara
tively, are capable of continuous attention;
and a still smaller number are able to compre
hend long trains of argument. The preacher
should rather resemble ihe woodsman, who,
while striking each blow with a view to fell
ing the tree, “ makes every stroke count,”
than the smith forging his chain, link into
link.
3. Regard should be had, in the prepara
tion of sermons, to the character of the audi
ence to be addressed. Their pursuits, their
habits of thought, their degree of culture,
their taste, so far as known, should be attend
ed to. Sermons well adapted to one congre
gation may be unsuited to another. The dis
courses of our Lord are au admirable study
upon this point. How aptly he models them
to the character of his hearers, selecting illus
trations from their daily avocations and sur
rounding objects; and by using familiar
thoughts, leading them to a knowledge of
higher truths. But let the young preacher
avoid, on the one hand, any parade of learn
ing, vhen addressing the cultivated ; and, on
the >ther, any thing low or vulgar, when
speaking to the ignorant. The former will
disgust his intelligent hearers no less than the
latter. And, no matter how rude and uneul
turrd his audience, there is no necessity for
vulgarisms. Short words, short sentences,
and familiar illustrations —such as can not
o/Tend the most cultivated taste—will be read
ily understood; and while conveying " the
knowledge it is the special object of the
sermon to improve the minds and
taste of his hearers.
4. Eschew, as you would poison, the idea
of making great sermons. Let the subject
engross the whole mw42~4tid heart;'and be
careful for noth’ng beyond the proper expres
sion of .the thoughts which it suggests. In
this way will be attained than
when one is concerned about the estimate to
be forc'd of his effort. Self-consciousness,
in W' s respect, is destructive of the very end
about which it is solicitous, and is, more
over, inconsistent with Christian principle.
We often hear the complaint: ‘‘lean never
preach well on special occasions.” There is
genially trir t i jjland the main rear,on is,--
.that there is*.too, strong aVlesire t> dem o. This
causes the preacher, e, to
attempt to preltdh himself, rltlreiSßßWfcGhefot
Jesus the Lord.”
5. Asa general rule, sermons should be
short—requiring from thirty-five to forty-five
minutes in delivery. Where preaching is in
frequent, from forty-five minutes to an hour
may be allowed. The object of a sermon is
not to show how much the preacher can say,
but to illustrate and enforce some important
truth ; and this can best be done in short and
well-compacted discourses. Exhaustive dis
cussion is rarely possible in a sermon. Occa
sionally, such sermons may be preached by
one possessing, to a considerable degree, the
power of fixing attention. But the greatest
orators can not long interest an audience with
prolix discourses.
Know what you wish to accomplish : go
right at it, do it, and be done with it.
A. M. Poindexter.
The Sunbury Association.
Brother Editor: —The announcement in a
recent number of your paper, by S. L., of the
dissolution of this Association, though not un
expected to the writer, was not less sad be
cause it was foreseen. The scene of his early
ministerial experience, the news that it lives
on ‘.\arnong the memories of the past, is like
that bi the death of the loved friends who
have their course and are to be met
no more. M u,j n g upon the past, my thoughts
run along through the years of my connection
with it, and recall, o, e after another, the un
forgotten forms of Aug^tus Bacon, S. S. Law,
E. P. Postell, W. Conner ,t S . Law, H. O.
Harmon, J. O. Sciv en) and others,
who gave life and energy to thv body, and,
further down in the shadowy distance, the
venerable Jacob Dunham and Cha*. O. Sc,i>»en
all of whom “ rest from their labors."’
1 have thought that the reminiscences of the
times, and the men whe-attgd in them, might
not be altogether usaceeptabls'te-at least those
of your readers who have ever been conneot
' ‘Lw Association. The first meeting.,
was held in November, 1818, with the church
at Sunbury. Twelve churches were received
as constituting it. I suppose its name was
given in compliment to the church of that
name. And worthy was she of the distinction :
she might be called the mother of churches
;uid of ministers. Os itaftrganization, I have
no knowledge, but think it was built up main
ly by the Rev. Chas. O. Scriven, to whom I
shall refer again. Rev. J. H. Dunham, the
Laws, (father and son), Chas. B. Jones, J. H
Campbell, E. A. Stevens, Jos. Shannon, (af
terwards a Campbellite), J. O. Striven, and
the writer, were licensed to preach by this
church, and there may have un
known to me. A school-boy ifi iipaaßadartij
of Mr. Shannon in Sunbury, I for
the first time the ordinance of bwj||sp!i. I
had heard of the sect, and was curious to
see a baptism, and was among the first at the
fiver side, where, very early one bright morn
ing, the sohyan-rtie. was to be performed. I
was so struck with the correspondence be
tween the description of in the New
Testament —whtch my pioiitmotherhad taught
me'to ttwdthe act before me that I btl
came, I w#», from tehai moment satis
fled upon that subject. Dr. Scriven was then
pastor of the church. There was a noble dig
nity about the jman that could not fail to im
press even the ybung and thoughtless with
profound respect for him. His preaching, as
I remember it, w*s calm and unimpassioned,
but earnest and solemn. He was a great
sufferer from a cancer, which resulted in his
death. I have heard it said that he never
complained, even in moments of excruciating
pain; that his wife knew when he was suffer
ing most, from his habit of walking, at such
times, to and fro in his room. He was induced
to visit Philadelphia for medical treatment.
His physician proposed an operation extreme
ly painful, and under which he feared his pa
tient might sink. When every thing was pre
pared, the doctor offered him a glass of wine
to nerve him for the occasion. He declined
it, saying that his religion afforded all the
support he needed.
If information derived from others, whom I
deem reliable, be correct, his early ministry
was not without its crosses. Soon after his
graduation at college, he settled in or near
Sunbury, then a flourishing town, and began
to preach. The strange doctrine, and stranger
practice of apostolic baptism, and the suc
cess which attended his labors, provoked op
position, and an attempt to silence the in
truder and check the rising heresy. This
was met with the calm dignity and firmness
characteristic of him. “ Woe is unto me if I
preach not the gospel,” he replied ; and, like
the great apostle, he pe ' l ed none of these
things to move him.
W. H. M.
Marion, Ala., Jan. 14, 1367.
An Eclipse—Doctors’ Bills.
The Sun of Righteousness is suffering an
eclipse. However bright His beams in other
places, however bright here in other days, to
tis, now, they seem almost entirely intercept
ed. A cloud of selfishness, dense, dark and
portentous, shuts out the pleasant light of
Heaven, and sheds its lurid glare on every
face. Like beasts and birds, when the great
natural luminary is obscured, so society seems
restless, disconcerted and demoralized. Men
wander about in the gloom as if blind. They
can not discriminate friend from foe; rather, all
appear foes. With mutual distrust, they gaze
each in the other’s face, with mutual ignorance
of whom it is that gives, and who receives the
searching scrutiny.
It is generally thought that when all are
alike involved in ruin, common misfortunes
will excite common sympathies—that each
sufferer will commiserate in others that which
he feels in himself. What a sad commentary
upon the depravity of the heart, and especial
ly upon the low state of morals among us,
that the contrary is unmistakably true ! Self
rules the hour. Greed of gaiq-animates al
most every bosom. The struggle after money
-butk-waxeA the mote the prospect
of becomes more remote. Noth
ing seems* too mean to be embracer!—nothing,
too holy 'to be abominated, provided gain may.
be realized. The time was when a man’s rep
utation was sacred, and his word was his bond;
but, now, words, bonds, projnises, repulsion,
all, are but as chaff before the driving wind.
Bit I will stop this soinbr picture. These
reflections were excited by a recent conversa
tioii with my family physician. Among other
things, he stated that his collections for the
last two years were comparatively almost as
nothing —that most persons manifested a posi
tive determination to pay no doctors’ bills.
Among these were some of his own brethren
in the church. They had plenty of money for
their own purposes, but none for him. I know
of similar complaints from other physicians.
Well, now, herein is a great evil. It is a great
evil that professed Christians should refuse to
pay their just debts. To speak in the mildest
manner, it is dishonest. It is a great evil that
our worthy physicians should be compelled to
distract their minds and divide their energies
in trying to eke out a precarious living from
odds and ends, rather than devote themselves
unreservedly to their noble calling. That
community which thus compels its physician
to neglect his books and his patients, is sapping
its own life-blood.
It is, Mr. Editor, a rare thing for one to say
aught in favor of physicians : it is more popu
lar to decry them. A great many (i. e. when
they are in health.) profess to think doctors’
a nuisance. I, for one, never wish to live in
any community where, there is not a good
Christian physician. Every community that
has one should sustain him. He is a noble
co-worker with the pastor. Most physicians
do a large amount of charity practice: for
which reason, those able to yh cl.l l.
the more forward to do it. I have seen many
excellent pieces about sustaining the pa-tor,
but ijp »nr has said aught in favor of the sell
denying individual who, by night and by day,
through storm or calm, through hew* cold,
-in weakness and fatigue, conje? to us in our
sickness, to us in our distresses.
Christian reatldiVi' 1 " / oU owe y our physi
cian ? Give not sleep to your eyes ; nor slum
ber to your eyelids, until you pay that debt.
Sin not thus.*g a > ns t God and against your
conscience- Justice, honor, and even self
interest, require that you pay the physician.
A Village Pastor >
Receiving: MeniJxirs into the Ciiarches—The
Proposed Change.
The r. Mr-ctions to the 1 “ old path ” plan do
not strike my own mind with much force-
The reasons, given for a change are summed
up in short to telitwe the candidate from the
mortifieatioif.stjj-nlltog the relation of an ex
perience, arid pastor’s and congrega
tion’s feelings.
While 1 hold injunction, Let all things
be done in o^der,-still lam inclined to the be
lief that a regard for, the notions of congrega
tions has. in many instances, driven spiritual
ity from Why don’t you do this
w r ay ? And why have this service .done in
such a laanner ? Why not alter some things ?
often suggested. But the important ques
tion, paramount to all otters, before consider
ing such changes, is, Will it promote the cause
of Jesus? Will it promote piety in the in
dividual membership of the church? This is
the questioq I would ask of our good brethren
who suggest and urge the change.
Which method of receiving members into
the church will be the means of increased de
votion on the part of the candidates—the
old plan, (in my judgment the.right one), im
posing the cross in coming out from the
world, or that of going before a committee to
relate an experience? Where’s the cross in
leaving the world, if those seeking to enter
into the Kingdom of Christ do not, by action
and by word, proclaim it publicly?
We ought to tread fearfully when we pro
pose any innovations upon practices or cus
toms of such long standing. We might be
found in the way of the work of grace, hinder
ing instead Os aiding.
Like Beta, I Hope our. older-brethren in the
ministry as well as out unqfo
the subject. JKt fcjjfeddlbsg.
'-rlnj ■
Qualilii Y
The Lord s Supper is appointed the perpet
ual memorial of the Lord’s death; the atone
ment, with participation in the burden of
its mystery. Fully to understand and possess
the qualifications for communion, can not wide
ly differ from understanding /ally the mys
tery of human redemption, and freely partici
pating in its largest Benefits.
1. That qualification for the communion
which is first, and underlies all besides is,
Faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
With no reference to the Supper did Christ
say, “Except ye eat the flesh ofpheSonof Man,
and drink 11 is blood, ye life in you.”
Communion at the Lord’s tattle was subse
quently added to explain and enforce that lan
guage. The first describes in \words what is
meant by believing with the hekrt unto right
eousness ; the second* more boldly attempts a
physical representation of tlh same; both
conspiring to enforce the doctrine, “The just
shall live by faith.” Participation, therefore,
in the Communion, without fitiih in Christ, is
of necessity a delusion, or a mockery. No
subjection to catechetical instruction, nor ob
servance of rites, human or Divine; no judg
ment of men, nor acts of churches; no stand
ing, no office, no service, ana no depths of
sincerity can supply the lack* of a believing
heart in the communion, —a life of faith upon
the Son of God.
11. A second qualification is, Personal Sub
mission the Ordinance of Baptism.
This is taught, 1, symbolically. Partaking of
bread and wine in any possible way is not the
communion. It is a Supper ihat Christ ap
pointed ; the principal meal, and after the
heat of the day. It is a family gathered—an
'evening banquet^Symbolically, the Supper
alone would b«?f%naccountab!y abrupt. It
brings forward results without antecedents, a
family without an origin, a feast without pre
paration, and guests without invitation, —a
sudden consummation, without* beginning. It
knows nothing of even our introduction to its
circle. If there was no other Christian rite,
wefßvld infer -that +liik wasjun”
But/there is a sister rite, one and
tya more; and that rite m form and
aim, avowedly initiatory— in the ob
servance of which Clifist is > said -,to be “ put
on ;” a rite which is evermore singing,. “To
Him who loves us, and washed us from our
sins in His own blood, and made us a king
dom, priests to God and His Father, to Him
be the glory and the dominion forever and
ever. Amen.” These sister rites* joining
hands, cover the past and thd fotifre of the
redeemed, and the elder is baptism. H-s a sym
bolical ordinance, baptism has no place if not
before the Supper. 2. By express Command,
“Go, therefore, and disciple all the,” etc. This
is Our Lord’s final charge till “He comes
amidst the clouds.” It contains three specifi
catlons-in the following order: First, make
all men Christ’s disciples by preaching the"
Gospel to them. Second, baptize alf who be
come disciples. Third, instruct; all baptized
disciples to practice unaltered, ahd pass down
inviolate, all things whatsoever Christ has
commanded. Whether this order is inspired,
as well as the subject matter, \till appear by
attempting some possible changes. First,
completely reverse it. We shill then com
pass sea and land to school met to formalism,
and baptize them into hypocrijy, preparatory
to disciplesbip. See an extended trail of that
order, of teaching in the Jewish nation. Haugh
ty, hardened, hopeless Pharisaism the result.
Second, make that first whitfi stands second
in the charge. That is See
Russia and Greece, Austria Spain and Por
tugal, France and Italy, A/exico and South
America, and Germany. 11 these countries
baptism before discipleship,has inducted the
world into the churches, and quite driven out
all spiritual religion. Baptfet testimony and
influence alone have prevented the same train
of consequences from following as fully in
England, Scotland and America. There is
possible yet another chatig/. Third, begin as
directed, with discipleship; then reverse the
second and third specifications. This is open
communion among Bapt/sts. Result: Bap
tism deserted by the churches, and left tjo
stand without a witness; that ordinance strict
en from the commission,and know'll no longer
its a command ; those churches holding a sep
arate existence to remonstrate against chang
ing an ordinance which they have dared to
strike out entire!—a house divided against
itself, and destined to desolation. If Christ
does not determine the order of the commis
sion, who shall? IP His determination is not
expressed in the conMftis'sion itself where shall
it be expressed ? Bute if it is expressed here,
let it not be asked'wlere there is direct au
thority, or tile tor3sij£. a command requiring
the churches to see tbat’ z&l disciples are bap
tized before sitting with ttem at the table.
3. By inspired example. The Acts of the
A postles is an inspired comihentary upon the
commission. L; key-note was struck on the
day of Pentecost. From that time on to the
end of inspiration they carried out the com
mission in the ord- given,
exactness. That record is left to stand before
lhe churches in the place of living, inspired
apostles.
111. The third and remaining scriptural
qualification for communion rs, a Life Ac
credited for Lpf alty to the King in Zion.
In the tutoring and training of baptized dis
ciples to the ufi.'ihired observance and per
petuation of all dines commanded by Christ,
discipline is cailei tor. Its law runs thus:
“Now, we < tnna.md you, brethren, in the
name of onr LorfoTesus Christ, that ye with
draw yourseiv* s iron *every brother who
walketh disorder)'., an > note after the tradition
which he received .of m-i ” An unbaptized
church tails to . so the ranks—walks
disorderly. Ihe baps ~and brother who walks
with tfiat church in; obe withdrawn from.
The churfo Unit gi. - countenance to com
munion bot. * be; ti.-m makes itself a party
to disorder met L-n ao limit but the complete
subversion of the k ith. Let us learn at
length that l we uxo±->t to plan the campaign,
but to study and execute Orders. “It is as
high as Heaven ; what canst thou do ? deeper
than hell; what canst thou know ? The meas
ure thereof is longer than the earth, and broad
er than the sea.” “ Whosoever shall break one
of these least commandments, and shall teach:
men so, he shall be called the least in the
kingdom of Heayen.”— Dr. Sarles.
Tickets for Heaven. ■'
A Parisian publisher has just issued, under
Pontifical authorization, small packets otffcards
which are fancifully called “ tickets for
Heaven.” Each packet, says the Pall Mall
Gazette, from which we condense this §ccouht„
contains sixteen embossed cards, bn each of
which is an engraving depicting the particular
mode of reaching Heaven, for .wjiich that
ticket is supposed to be good. As these queer
pictures are duly for sale, and are.
circulated in large quantities among the faith
ful, we give our readers a description *of two
or The fourth of the series is by rail
way-; an angel is-the engineer anda broad-hat
ted priestthe fireman, while behind are a num
ber .ofthird-elass ptissengei-Cars crowded with
pilgrims. This ia-explained to symbolize the
l -ironnpad of self-abnegation and sacrifice.”
The eighth is “ on a plank % tenlpeStu
fous, sea, surrounded by..haeberfs, Aut,holding
•hi- anchor of hope, lire pilgrim kneeltfig on
plank, drjfofo '• r<v tbWgti
Jlyayen. * No ; 9 o?bi W A*.
rifed upward* 1 oh the - m<chari
table,” showing thatpsthose wfoor-fficeive and
those who afford charity qre sl(ke admitted..
No. 12 indicates monastic life ; it is by swim
ming, a way in which there is no rest, and in
which the earth is entirely abandoned. - The
last represents the pilgrim suddenly blown
from the crater of a volcano “ into the arms of
Cod.” The Gazette suggests that this picture
must signify Rome, as that city at this mo
ment resembles nothing so much as a “moral
volcano.” From the language used in de
scribing these cards, we infer that they are
not sold to the superstitious faithful as sym
bols merely, but as veritable “ tickets for
Heaven.” Cross as the superstition must
appear to us, it is not too gross to find accep
tance among the votaries of Rome.—Exami
ner and Chronicle.
Mr. Spurgeon never performs any pasto
ral laber, as that term is understood in New
England. He never makes pastoral calls;
he does not ordinarily even attend the funeral
when a member of his church dies. Each of
his elders and deacons has a list of a portion
of the church over which he is to have super
vision, and they report to their pastor, and
confer with him as to what shall be done, and
thus it is that by their “ assistance” he main
tains pastoral supervision. He has no per
sonal acquaintance with his church, except
what he obtains from these reports, and from
meeting the members in public; and yet it is
said he knows most of his church members
by sight, and a large part of them by name.
This results from two things. First, he has
a natural power of remembering countenances
and names such as but few possess. Second,
he has a Sabbath evening exercise in which he
is brought into personal contact with his church
members.
He and a portion of his church believe, on
the ground of the example of the early disci
ples, that it is appropriate for all His follow
ers to celebrate the Lord’s. Supper, every
LirrvDo day. Hence, although on one Sabbath
a month this sacrament is administered to the
whole church, at the close of the.evening ser
vice of other Sabbaths he invites those who
are disposed to do so to repair with him to
one of the vestries, and them celebrate the
Saviour’s dying love. In this service his dea
cons not only distribute the sacred elements,
but also assist the pastor in the devotional
exercises. Usually, about five hundred at
tend ; and at the close of the exercises Mr.
Spurgeon takes his stand at the door and
shakes hands with each member when leaving
the room.
A Law and its Illustration. —“ The hus
bandman first laboring must be partaker of
the fruits.” This is God’s great law in all
departments,of activity—first the labor, then
-the fruit. Some seem to imagine that God
cares so much for His church that the fruit
will somehow come without the spiritual til
lage; on the contrary, He cares for it enough
to curse it with barrenness, unless it cleave in
hard working allegiance to His great law.
About six years ago, an infant church came
into being in Jacksonville, 111., along side of
four other sister Presbyterian churches, to
say nothing of other churches, in a population
of only ten thousand. Os course, you say, the
wee thing must starve. Not at all. It rose
from its cradle in the full strength of man
hood; laid hold with a right godly will, upon
the instruments of modern church efficiency ;
worked its Sabbath school with stirring zeal;
gathered its young people into prayer meet
ings of their own ; and so cherished its general
meetings for prayer and conference that not a
brother in the church ever declined to perform
his part.
During the six years this infant church
raised thirty thousand dollars for its own
needs and for benevolent purposes; and
though it lost more th\u its original number
by removals to other towns, and some of its
noblest sons in the service of its country, yet
its membership has more than quadrupled,
and its congregation has doubled the number
of its regular attendants.
Such prosperity comes in God’s order, and
involves within itself the promise of still
greater success.— Watchman and Reflector.
A Faithful Steward. —An agent, solicit
ing funds for a certain benevolent object, call
ed upon the minister of a poor country town,
made known his Objects, and inquired of that
minister whether there were any individuals
in his parish who would contribute for that
object. The minister answeftd, “ No.” Then
checking himself, he said, “ We have, however,
one man who considers himself as a steward
of the property of God. Perhaps he would
give something. You will find him upon the
mountain yonder.” The agent toiled up the
steep ascent, and approached his dwelling. It
was built of logs, and its door was opened by
a leather string. He entered and made known
the object of his visit. “We have,” said the
benevolent farmer, “ for several years, con
sidered all the products of our farm, above
what is necessary for the supply of our wants,
as the Lord’s property, to be devoted to some
good object. We have so disposed of the
whole this year, excepting one artieje, that is
our cheese. It may be worth tjventy or
twenty-five dollars. We had not
to what object to devote it. We' vfiN- giv<*
you that.” This man living in his MM
logs, and cultivating a small farm upon the
mountain, was accustomed to for pur-,
poses of benevolence, about three hundred
dollars yearly. -v V
That Great Name. —A planter had a negro
who always stood opposite to him when wait
ing at table. His master often took the name
of God in vain, at which the negro immediate
ly made a low and solemn bow. On being
asked why he did so, he replied that he never
heard that great name mentioned but it filled
his soul with awe. Thus he cured his master
without offending him.
f . The Converted Quakeress..
-• m cifßiw, *;
’ de( *&k*«,* in g Incident
* n a ser "
H *’s church
A
y, wh< .sc
nHK9£re uced
t 6 jljwHFour ineet con-
after a ngbAslruggtie, found the
evidafice that God had shined irtjp her heart
and given the light of the know\e so of the
glory of God, in the ’face of JltsV. Christ.
Her hope was clear artd the work apt ,inotary.
She wanted to unite with the church, but it
was heresy evjpn to attend the mWings »of
any of the ‘sects,’ much more to join *; ■ u
She wrote to her nfother, frankly stating e;-
conversion, her hope in Christ, and des.-ed
permission to become a-member of ourvJfu; t n
-In reply, she received the eold statemei* fr,Jm
her pother, ‘lf you.join those heretic we
to .-see you at home again ! ziu'
knew' Rer ways and positivene- , apd.
that 110-appeal, c-buld be made, but wh*£®ji!|g
to he done?' Could she give up all for Christ ?
A,«w days and nights of struggle aucHemp*
tat&wfoind of prayer, her »»>d
.cheerful (flic came
selU thy
Isafe
'* a . v in
baptism; • Aboifo :>o(’(|'peopj^^wppresent,
standmggfffo ■■■ a high
bj.uflriikfoii . itifip-.fo.>foir*-. '*”Fhad ; baptized
tbirbeffl). 4 T iu.nled. tAjspe in the
water this young httky. As she ■ * •'■meed to
ward the /Wqpef, depth she withdrew her
hand and in a quifo rone said,
‘ Wait a moment.*,. I turned to inquire what
it was, and, jmbqpSfcioUs of the p:\ sence of all
ethers, she raise<i»ner hands ami yes to heav
en, her facey-adrfot, with* the p’-.i e of God,
and with solpmn 'Sarnestness sho said,-/ 0 Sa
viour, thou jfeestMioW 1 have how forsaken all
to come and'Codsler&te mvst/if in this
holy baptisni . Th<«foio : iowestl !«,ve given up
iny home, my father} ipy mother my broth
ers, my sistete, apd atl my fj .eir-bi, that I may
follow thee. i Bestow my* guide, pry strength,
my protection, and this edjd world I
will be thine, inVsf , in deatfo atiS uorever.”
She then turned .toward me and (%id, ‘I am
ready now.’A We stepped forward, and she
was planted Jn the likeness of Christ’s death,
and as we fumed to'go out of the water, as
far as we you I'd see, every eye was lull, and
tears fell pn evejy cheek. What a beautiful
illustration of those words of Jesus: ‘ Who
soever doth not-bear Lis tross, and come after
me, can. not be rnv .--tipte'.’ ” Lukekiv: 27.
Ab?iERF.scE to was a
celebrated Arabian warrior, but ferocious and
cruel. Among a mini her of prisoners whom
he had cofidem^ r ’ ' was one who,
having obtained a u, unent’s audience, said,
“ Yoftfkijpt, sir, t 4) pardon me, because when
Abdatrahpian was cursing yoifoXreprg ented
to him thpt he was wrong; aaAjpei: s«ce that
time . 1 haVe lost ins fo.emfof • ” Hegiage
asked him if he had any* nlVhaving
don* this; and the sAd for mentioned another
prisoner who-.Hke\. Ise about ter suffer
death. The p^^ud’was called and-interro
gated and havin^cWUlrmeJ the fact. Hegiage
gi>a»Mj*d the flipgiia pardop,. I so. Vnelfoasßeff
the witness ifojWiad likewise tAfcen his part
against, Ahdftfs£tßma*n But iu-, still respecting
truth,- answered" thaWie had titfT, because he
believi. duty to do so. *• He
giage, notwithstanding'fiisTeroefty, wasstruok
with the prisoner’s greatness of spirit.
“Well/’ said he, after a moment’s pause,
“ suppose I were to grant you y.our life and
liberty, should you be still my enemy ?”
“ No,” said the prisoner. “ That’s enough,”
said Hegiage ; “ your bare word is sufficient;
you have given undoubted proof of your love
for truth. Go, preserve the life that is less
dear to you than honor and sincerity; your
liberty is the just reward of your virtue.”
Here we see that truth serves us best at the
very crisis when we are apt to be mostafra'd
that it will injure us. Would it not have
been supposed that the truth and integrity of
the witness above mentioned would have re
doubled the fury of a man so imperious and
sanguinary? Yet the fact is, that instead of
irritating, it softened and disarmed the
tyrant.
Bad Habits. —Coleridge’s habit of taking
opium was no secret. In 1816 it had already
a fearful pitch; having produced “ during
many years an accumulation of bodily suffer
ing that wasted the frame, poisoned the sources
of enjoyment, and entailed an intolerable
mental load, that scarcely knew cessation.”
The poet himself called it “ the accursed drug.”
In 1814 Cottle wrote him a strong protest
against this terrible arid ruinous habit, entreat
ing him to renounce it. Coleridge said in reply,
“ You have poured oil into the raw and fes
tering wound of an old friend, Cottle, but it is
oil of vitriol!” He accounts for the “ac
cursed habit-” by stating that he had taken it
first to obtain relief from intense bodily suf
fering, and he seriously contemplated entering
a private insane asylum as the surest means
of its removal. His remorse "was terrible and
perpetual; he was “rolling rudderless,” “the
wreck of what he.once was,” “ wretched, help
less, and hopeless.” He revealed his “ do
minion ” to De Quincey “ with a deep expres
sion of horror at the hideous bondage.” It
was this “conspiracy of himself against him
self” that was the poison of his life. He de
scribes it with frantic pathos as “ the scourge,
the curse, the one almighty blight, which had
desolated his life ; ” the thief,
u “To ileal
From my own nature, all the natural man.”^
True Freedom. —Man is rtot born free, any
more than he is born an accomplished artist
or scholar. Freedom is acquired perfection.
He is born with the capacity for freedom, the
duty and the desire to develop this innate fac
ulty, and bring it to perfection. Obedience
to the laws, love of justice, and stern adhe
rence to truth, are the proper means to attain
freedom. He who has not learned how to
obey, will never understand, how to be free.
The love of justice, is the heart of freedom,
aod the sovereignty of truth, is her soul.
Nothing to hold on by. —An infidel on
his death-bed felt himself adrift in the terri
ble surges of doubt and uncertainty. Some
of his friends urged him to hold on to the
end:
“ I have no objection tQ holding on,” was
the poor man’s answer; “ but will you tell
me, what I am to by 1 ”
There is Infidelity furnishes
neither to the sinking soul.
It gives nothing tObiPi on by.
tr. H ,■■■'■
Baptism of the Holy Ghost. —ln the
fourth volume of Lange’s Commentary, ju9t
issued, the author of the exegetical notes, —
Dr. Lechler, Professor of Theology and Su
perintendent at Leipsic,—says, on Acts i: 5,
“ The gift of the Spirit is here termed baptism,
and is thus characterized as one of most abun
dant fulness, and as a submersion in a purify
ing and life-giving element. The term and
the image are both derived from the water
baptism of John.”
WHOLE NO. 2326.
. ■■”.*■•*" "-JW
A Hymn of Confession.
Holy Spirit! Pity me,
Pierced with grief for grieving Thee;
Present, though I “ mourn apart,"
Listen to a wailing heart.
Sins unnumbered I confess,
Os exceeding sinfulness—
Sins against Thyself alone,
Only to Omniscience known.
Deafness to Tljy whispered calls;
Rashness 'midst remembered falls ;
Transient fears beneath the rod ;
Treaoherous trifling with my God 1
Tasting Jhat the Lord is good,
Pining then for poisopedfood ;
At the fountains of the skies
Graying-creatdrely sqppliesd-r ;> a*
* L-*- ... , - *- •
W-pfldJy cares at
Grovelling aims in worWt suffijw <4 %
Voiceless v*ws, whose breath, afroke
In echo—broke; <
Viewless failures, steps astray; *
iua once loved way.
Chilled devotion, changed desires,
Quenched corruption’s ember-fires, —
Sins like these my heart deceive—
Thee, its sole Familiar, grieve 1
Oft how lightly have I slept,
With Thy daily wrongs unwept l
Sought Thy chidings to defer—
Shunned the wounded Comforter!
Woke to holy labors fresh,
With the plague-spot in my flesh;
Angel seemed to human light,
Stood a leper in Thy sight.
Still Thy comforts do not fail;
Still Thy healing aids avail;
Patient inmate of my breast,
Thou art grieved—yet I am blest!
O, be merciful to me,
Now in bitterness for Thee!
Father, pardon, through Thy Son,
Sins against Thy Spirit done!
TP. M. Bunting.
Prayer Power.
When weighed down with sorrow and troubled
with care,
Be the words e’er so simple, naught calms us like
prayer;
We rise from the ofFring with peace in our
minds,
And renewed trust in Jesus each weary one finds.
How priceless and joyful is this trust in God—
A com lort that fails not, though thorn-paths be
trod;
It soothes each rebellious, proud thought of our
hearts,
And peace to the troubled one ever imparts.
• '*
How sweet ’tis, when tossed on the rough waves
of life, ■ _ *
To have one source of comfort that calms every
strife;
To have One who has said, “Put thy whole trust
in me—
I am wise, just, and righteous—trust all things to
me.”
Has success crowned thy efforts ? joy followed thy
care ?
Retire to thy closet—commune with One there;
Tell Him of thy prospects, thy hopes, or thy
joy»,
And those joys will be chastened—made pure
from alloys.
Or has all been in vain ? Do afflictions arise,
In trains dark and dismal, till Hope itself dies ?
Then go to thy closet—lay all before Him—
And thy heart will be lightened, though Hope’s
light be dim.
In joy, or in trouble, alike watch and pray;
Commune with the Highest, and learn of His
way;
Assured that in sorrow, in gladness, in care,
There’s nothing so sweet and so soothing as
prayer.
Sketch of Luther —By Carlyle.—A
coarse, rugged, plebeian face it was, with great
crags of cheek bones—a wild amount of pas
sionate energy and appetite ! But in his dark
eyes were floods of sorrow ; and the deepest
melancholy, sweetness were all there. Often
did there seem to meet in Luther the very op
posite points W 1/“ He, for ex
ample, for Wc , had said his words
were half-battft\ % \ "V’ he first began to
preach, suffered ' W fcfl* agony. “ Oh! Dr.
Staupitz, Dr. Stautvij>. be to the vicar
general of his p jo it, I shall
die in three months t.: "can not dp it.”
Dr. Staupitz, a wte© man,
said upon this: “ Well, bir Martin, if you
must die, you must; but remember that they
need good heads up yonder, too. So preach,
man, preach, and then live or die, as it hap
pens.” So Luther preached and lived, and he
became, indeed, one great whirlwind of ener
gy to work without resting in this world ; and
also before he died he wrote very many books
-books in which the true man is found, for
in the midst of all they denounced and cursed,
what touches of tenderness lay. Look at the
Table Talk, for example.
The Living Word. —The bulb, taken from
the hand of a mummy, was planted and be
came a beautiful flower, though it had been
buried two thousand years. Grains also taken
from these long sealed tombs have been plant
ed and brought forth wonderful harvests.
How like the good seed of the Word, which
sometimes lies so long buried it seem3 to our
eye to be lost; and yet in some far off land
and clime it springs up and bears fruit abun
dantly to the Master’s glory.”
Saintly Men. —Their glories shine far be
yond the limit of their daily walk in life;
their odors are wafted across the boundaries
of unfriendly societies; their spiritual seed is
borne away, and takes root, and bears mani
fold in fields far distant from the gardens of
the Lord where they were planted.— Wilson't
Hampton Lectures.
The Pastor in Private.— “ He that has
the happy talent of parlor preaching has some
times done more for Christ and souls in the
space of five minutes than by the labor of
many hours and days in the usual course of
preaching in the pulpit.”— Dr. Watts.