Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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.