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CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SDUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST.
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The Creator and Sovereign.
The universe and man were created. What
gave being to this wondrous creation ? Has
everything one origin? Does one Sovereign
control and govern?
It is affirmed by writers on Natural Theol
ogy, that the universe proclaims one God.
I» this the voice of unaided nature ? Is there
that entire harmony—that perfect, and peace
ful, and happy adjustment and practical work
ing, which declares with unmistakable utter
ance, “ Hear, O man, the Lord thy God is one
God?”
The larger portion of mankind have been
polytheists. Not the uneducated only, phi
losophers, also, have believed in “gods many.”
The authors referred to, thus reason : Design
indicates a designer: unity of design indi
cates one designer; and they affirm that the
evidences of unity of design are so full and
complete as to amount to a moral demonstra
tion of the Unity of Deity. Now, the poly
theists have observed the evidences of design,
but they have failed to perceive the evidences
of unity. Nay, more; the very writers who
affirm such evidences to exist, are constrained
to admit strange anomalies which are difficult
to reconcile with their theory. And how per
plexed, often, amidst the disasters and suffer
ings of life, are those who have accepted the
Bible as a divine revelation, upon this very
point?
We have no knowledge that a single indi
vidual, without a revelation, has been a mon
otheist. Either atheism or polytheism was
the result of the speculations of the wisest
heathen. It may be an easy task when, from
some other source, one has gained the idea of
the One living and true God, to trace the evi
dences of his being and character. But it is
doubted whether by the unaided observation
of nature man would ever attain to this con
ception.
The difficulty, in part, seems to lie in
this. Man is a fallen being, and the condition
in which he is placed is adapted to this fact.
But this very fact he is prone to disregard,
and to look upon himself and the world as in
the same relations to the Creator as at the
bsgi»sJ<injji Now, in this view of the case it
is hnpqsVible to escape perplexity. There
are so many, and such wonderful adaptations
to the happiness of sentient being in the uni
verse, and such responsive sensibilities in an
imal nature, and especially in man, that we
cannot doubt the wisdom and benevolence of
Him who originated and arranged these adap
tations. At the same time, these benevolent
arrangements are constantly thwarted. The
world is full of suffering. Man, especially,
is the child of sorrow. How can it be that
that an infinitely benevolent Creator made a
world so full of misery ? These sufferings
do not come fortuitously. For the most part,
they are seen to result from the operation of
general laws. These laws, in their action,
sometimes produce happiness, and sometimes
inflict suffering. There are cases, however,
which it is difficult, if it be possible, to assign
to the operation of such general laws. Hence
the universal ideas of chance and accident, as
if the machinery of the universe (if the ex
pression may be used) were imperfect. There
are other cases which seem to result from the
direct intervention of invisible agents. They
can be ranged neither with the one nor the
other of the classes mentioned, and hence the
universal belief of the existence and power
of such agents. These agents appear, some
of them to be benevolent, others malevolent.
Does it not seem as if there were more than
one Creator? Or, rather, a Creator and De
stroyer, and the latter but little, if any, less
powerful than the former? The Oriental
dogma of the Principle of Good and the
Principle of Evil, was an attempt to explain
these conflicting phenomena. And it is wor
thy of remark that theists sometimes repre
sent God as both benevolent and vindictive,
forced to do so, apparently, by the same cause.
Some such mists must ever becloud the mind,
until, in the contemplation of nature and
providence, we recognize the fact that man is
a fallen being, and that the world and the
course of events are adapted to* his fallen
state..
Man is so connected with the existences
around him, animate and inanimate, that he
must needs be affected by changes occurring
in them. The regular course of the seasons
administers to his support and comfort. The
miasm, the tempest, the earthquake,*invade
his happiness and life. Upon the animal cre
ation he is to a great extent dependent for
support and enjoyment. It is, con
ceivable, that the convulsions of nature and
the sufferings of the inferior animals, may
have direct and ultimate reference to human
character and destiny. In point of fact we
very often observe this relation, and all phys
ical changes derive, in our estimation, their
whole significancy and importance from their
relation to human interests.
Avery large portion of human sufferings
are self-derived and self-inflicted. By the vi
olation of physical laws, and the laws of his
moral being, man is a constant self-tormenter.
Now, in such self-inflicted misery there is,
to a greater or less extent, punishment —that
is, not merely suffering, but suffering conse
quent upon the violation of law —and a sense
FRANKLIN PRINTING HOUSE. ATLANTA, GA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 9, 1868.
of guilt justifying the infliction. The inflic
tions of conscience are altogether of this
character. The very cause of suffering is a
sense of guilt.
The fact should not be overlooked, that the
connection of suffering with guilt is so strong
ly marked in the consciousness of mankind
as to have led to the almost universal belief
that great sufferers are great sinners. The
belief is exaggerated, but it has its origin in
the deep consciousness of sin and desert of
punishment common to our race. And if a
well trained and well regulated mind rise
above the superstition, it grasps all the more
firmly the conviction that all suffering is, in
some way, consequent upon the violation of
law.
In this view our sufferings may be regarded
as partly retributive and partly reformatory.
Men feel them thus, if not invariably, yet
with sufficient frequency to establish a con
viction that thus they are designed. Now, it
cannot be regarded as inconsistent with the
most absolute benevolence that God should
so arrange the order of his government as to
punish sin; and surely benevolence itself must
rejoice in suffering inflicted, or permitted, for
the good of the sufferer, for his reformation,
and the perfecting of his character.
It is not necessary to the reception of this
truth that we should be able, in every case,
to trace the connection of guilt, or of reform,
with individual suffering. Obviously, “such
knowledge is too high ” for us. All that is
needed is, that, so far as we can perceive the
design of sufferings, we observe these tenden
cies. But, it must be admitted, that if we
regard man as having no existence save in
this world, an observation of the course of
events will be far from satisfying our minds.
There is such manifest inequality in the dis
tribution of happiness and misery, as corn
spared with the character of men—the good
are so often the greatest sufferers, while the
bad escape, or suffer but slightly, that, unless
we regard man here as ripening for another
state —a life after death—our perplexities still
haunt us. Hence, in considering the eviden
ces of the Unity, and the character <»f God,
we must not only bear in mind that man is a
sinner, but also that he is immortal, —that
the, results of the course of providence are
only partially reached this side the grave.
We connect the course of events with an ob
servation of the universe, because, in the
consideration of the argument, it is impossi
ble to separate the two. A mere abstract
survey of the universe, apart from its rela
tions to man, and to the course of providence,
is impossible, and if it were possible, would
avail but little.
If, now, we bring before our minds the evi
dences of unity of design, and of benevolence,
of the fallen condition of man, of his immor
tality, of the punitive and reformatory nature
of the catastrophes and sufferings to which he
is subjected, then we think the united voice
of Nature and Providence will proclaim,
“There is one God, and besides Him there is
no other ” the Creator and.Gwce.mor of the
Universe. A. M. Poindexter.
Troubled Martha.
“ Aunt Ellen, it would be very sweet to
me if 1 could feel about my daily work, with
its new cares and perplexities, as you do
about yours ; but 1 can’t clearly see how such
things as I’ve been toiling at to day are to
glorify God, or how I’m serving Him particu
larly in them. Just see, now, what a time
I've had, and of how little use it is for me to
try to do anything for Him. The baby cry
ing, awoke me before dawn, and, having no
nurse now, by the time he was dressed, fed,
and asleep again, worship came; then break
fast, and then the children had to be got off
to school. After the first bell rang, I found
that a string was needed on Jamie’s satchel,
and a button on Lucy’s apron; then there
were new books to cover and pencils to find ;
so that it was 9 o’clock before the house was
quiet. And just as I knelt to ask for grace
to spend one day aright, and serve God visi
bly, Dilsey called aloud and so earnestly for
help that I rose alarmed and ran to the
kitchen, only to find the preserves she had
put on to scald boiling over, at the same time
that the baby’s milk was burning, and the
bread more than„ ready to make up. So I
lost another half hour there, helping through
that difficulty, and came back once more, try
ing to be calm and patient, when, who should
come in but Mrs. Patsey, with another of her
dismal tales of hunger and cold. I knew she
had spent the last cent for opium; so, though
I tried to talk to her kindly, I fear the ‘ truth’
was not told to her in as much ‘ love’ as would
have made it most effectual. Well, after she
had gone, there was barely time left for mend
ing husband’s coat and preparing some things
for dinner ; and dinner over, the dressmaker
came. Then there were the cutting and bast
ing to keep her and the sewing machine busy
till she left, which was only at dark, just as
you came in at the gate. lam tired out and
discouraged; and how lam to get any time
for serving the Lord, or even looking after
my own heart, I don’t see.”
“ Why, dear, you surprise me ! Don’t the
Master call us all to serve Him as soon as we
love Him?’’
“Certainly, and that’s just what troubles
me. If l could only see any time to do it
in ”
“ But, wait, dear. Don’t the Lord know
how He wishes you to serve? And will He
tell you to do one thing when He wants you
to do another, or require you to do two things
at the same time? Suppose you were to tell
your children that they must all help you;
and though you were to put Mattie at an ele
gant embroidery, Lula to making a rich des
sert, Fred to pruning your choicest vine, and
only required Lucy and Jamie to pick up
chips, would not these last as truly obey and
please you in their work, if cheerful and obe
die? , as though it were the most intricate
and particular of all ? Now, God has given
you a husband and children, and some one
for them the things that you do. No
one will, or can, take your place in these mat
ters, nor cag you do anything else while at
tending to these duties. If they fill all your
time necessarily, then you are called of God to
them, and to no other service; and you do serve
Him, all the hours of every day, while labor
ing for those whom He has given you, as
truly as if you had a special revelation upon
the subject, and were called by Him to preach
the gospel. You can preach by your faithful
ness, your patience, your meekness, your lov
ing ways and cheerful face; and who shall say
that such varied duties, emergencies, pres
sures and trials as yours need, or show, less
grace than is needed by the consecrated in
more apparent walks of faith? The humble
home work, the cooking, the housekeeping,
the sewing, the child-comforting, cradle-rock
ing, and even the smiling talk to baby, must
all be done by somebody, and if no other is
provided, or can be, then these duties are
yours —they are the work to which you are
called —and who dares discriminate, calling
yours an humble part of the Lord’s work ?
It is that which must be done, and if needful,
is doubtless as honorable as making money,
building schools, or foundyjg churches. In
the great work of the kingdom, the Marthas
are as truly needed as the Marks, the Phebe 6
as the Peters, the Loises as the Lukes. Dear
Mattie, yours is a work-dress that never grows
old, and I don’t wonder that the great Apos
tle designated, among others, for a sacred and
honored sisterhood, those who had ‘ brought
up children;’ for the Lord, who gave him his
wisdom, alone knows how self-denying, how
self-sacrificing, rather, how constant, how un
ending are the watchfulness, the anxieties and
the toils of a mother’s position.”
“This view is a most comforting one, Aunt
Ellen, and is doubtless the true one: and if
my Lord calls me to this service, it surely is
because He prefers it for me, as He could
have created me for a missionary just as well,
had He so chosen ; and it is not for me to in
quire which is the better work; so that His
will is plain, I ought to be content. But there
is one difficulty left, even then. He undoubt
edly calls us all to daily prayer; and I assure
you that there have been days together when
I had not a moment for kneeling in secret:
times when the children were sick, when days
of unremitting care and nights of sleepless
watchfulness took all the moments of all the
the hours.”
“Yes, dear; but answer me one question:
were they the times when you were most for
getful of God ?”
“ Oh, by no means ! No, no ; those were
the days when my heart followed Him all the
time, as the children’s eyes do me when they
long to ask for some much desired thing.
Those were the times when I would have
given all 1 had for a quiet hour to go far off,
alone, and plead with Him for a life. They
were the times when, strange to say, the an
swers came before the prayers, as in the
promise.”
“Springs in the desert; sweet music from
dumb lips! But, darling,” said Aunt Ellen,
wiping her • eyes, as she thought of her own
long ago ‘ songs in the night,’ i “ that was
prayer. That dumb crying, that longing,
that soul-reaching, where ‘ words there are
none,’ is the true prayer-spirit which can
‘pray without ceasing,’ even when tongue can
not utter nor knee bend. For so, when cares
fill all your hours, you can keep the com
mand, meeting the Father ‘in secret,’ though
many eyes are upon you. He knows all that
is to come to you, and when your literal clo
set hour is deuied, will meet you at the bed
side, and there hear and answer your petitions.
He will not send blessings upon neglect, nor
does he call you to watch at the bedside and
kneel at the same moment when it is impos
sible ; for He can meet your soul anywhere,
and will, whenever and wherever it turns to
Him in extremity. Be sure, if his provi
dence takes your closet hour, it will only be
to meet you more often and lovingly in un
used places. Remember, that as nothing can
separate us from the love of God, neither can
anything deprive us of communion with Him,
if our hearts will only take it.”
Here a silence fell upon the two speakers,
which was full of rest and sweetness, and the
room seemed blessed with another than these
human spirits. At length the stillness was
broken by Aunt Ellen saying, in a low
voice:
“Yes, dear, it is all right. Though your
way seems full of new cares and perplexities,
but look at it rightly, and you will find in it
comforts and delights as new and as many.
That God has led you into a path from which
there is no turning, proves that the one in
which he would have you walk; for with
Him there are no accidents nor mistakes—
and though you know-this, you need to think
of it till you feel it, and feel it comfortingly.
And don’t suffer yourself to say or think
that your work is insignificant. Distinctions
do indeed exist in our vile hearts; but to the
‘angels so pure,’ one command of God is as
honoring as another, and any labor which he
enjoins as distinguished as what seems to us
most exalted. ‘To obey is better than sacri
fice.’ In cheerful acceptance of your special
lot and labor, you can show your faith in His
wisdom and your trust in His love; and that
will as truly honor him as though your work
were that of an angel. Come, dear, let us
go to your room, and thank Him for His wis
dom and love, and implore grace to walk
worthy of our calling by them.”
• Hour.
Fragments and Reflections.
I induced a brother, in the early part of last
year, to subscribe for a religious paper, by
using some strategy and speaking highly of
the paper. As occasion offers, I feel of him
some, as to his estimation of the paper, its
influence on himself and family, and his idea of
the investment, or his profit from the outlay.
The last time I met him he was enthusiastic
about an article he had read only a day or
two before. “ I wouldn’t take a thousand
dollars for that piece!” said he. “Ah!”
said I; “ the price of the paper was only
four dollars, and one article in one paper is
worth a thousand! That’s surely a good in
vestment.” Now, this good brother, like
many others, is apt to be “up in the loft or
down in the cellar.” He had been in the cel
lar for several days, 4'as very moody, and
taking up his -paper toT while away a heavy
hour by diverting his Jpind from his condi
tion, his eye fell upon aj short selected article
addressed to “ The Man,” and
it was just what he needed. It dispelled the
cloud, let the sunshine W|o his heart; and the
actual pleasure and happiness resulting from
that single article, not bJdf a column in length,
was beyond value by dollars and cents.
I could but reflect how many brethren do
without a good paper, who would not if they
only knew its value. Yfould they but read,
how would they learn the value of a reli
gious paper to the weak, instruct
the ignorant, and comfort the distressed.
Wm. N. Chaudoin.
Cottage Home, near Albany, Ga.
- -fr - r™ T
“Simon, son of lovest thou me?”
The holy religion of Lord- Jesus recom
mends itself to the as to the
judgment and interest cgNMjk, Aid yet, how
few few, eompunUiwfjHpiEfi prpperiy im
pressed with the
as connected with
possession of the
is the position which occupies
in the great sche«vff recovery, that
without love to JKfm —-/ure, ardent, grateful
attachment-*-T-eligion is in empty, unmeaning
sound. The tongue is a “ tink
ling symbol,” and knowledge is vanity and
presumption. Repentance is a sorrow that
worketh death, and fait\ is a sullen, reluc
tant admission of truth j-hat cannot be denied.
Humility is servile sycophancy, and forbear
ance is cowardice or unmanly cunning. Self
denial is meanness, and charity is vain osten
tation or heartless policy. Resignation is de
spair, and obedience itself is the contemptible
submission of the abje«t slave, or the cold,
calculating, self-righteousness of the compla
cent Pharisee. If the New Testament reveals
any one isolated truth which comprehends all
other vital truths, it-is that love to the Lord
Jesus Christ is the reli"ion of the Bible, and
is inseparably connected with man’s salva
tion. In all the wide, universe, He stands the
one Mediator between God and man. Lifted
up between the heavens and the earth, He ar
rests the syord of justice, He satisfies the de
mands of aSholy, violate law, and closing up
the gateway of hell, r.nf throwing open the
entrance into heaven. He* *ays to every man,
seeking the one and dre%ting the other, just
what He said to Peter after His resurrection,
“Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me ?”
Sinner, guilty, condemn.>3 sinner, lovest thou
me ? The response of lieter must be the re
sponse of every pardon vi and accepted sin
ner—“ Lord, thou k'ng'west all things; thou
knowest that I love theta” Such an answer
expresses appreciation,jmd implies a grateful
4ense of favor Tt Is the fight feel
ing for him who understands the office of the
Redeemer, and propej^yate lues the reconcilia
tion which has been efijtcji. It is the only
state .of heart the. enjoy
ment of that favor whiich has been restored,
and fits the soul for the companionship of the
New Jerusalem. What can heaven be to
him who loves not the Lord Jesus Christ?
Solitude in the midst of society, hunger in
the midst of plenty, and thirst by the side of
fountains of living water. The sun of right
eousness shines in meridian splendor, but all
is gloom and darkness to him. The song of
praise, the glad shout of deliverance, the joy
ous hallelujah to the “ Lamb that was slain,”
strikes no sympathizing chord in his unloving
heart. He is a stranger in a strange land,
and his discontented spirit longs for more
congenial association. My brother, my sis
ter, fellow-pilgrims professedly to the land of
promise, let me entreat you to examine your
hearts. No matter what you may say as to
your labor, your self-denial, your charity, all
will be in vain unless, like Peter, you can
say, “Lord, thou knowest all things; thou
knowest that I love thee.” Have you this
watchword, this passport, into the “Celestial
City.” Then, onward in your pilgrimage.
He whom you love waits your coming, and
the end of your journey will be crowded
with the fullfilment of every promise, the
glorious reality of every scriptural expecta
tion.
“ Do not I love thee, dearest Lord ?
Then let me nothing love;
Dead be my heart to every joy,
When Jesus cannot move.”
The great and good Andrew Fuller says
that the Anathema Maranatha denounced
against the man that loves not the Lord Jesus
Christ, as we find recorded in I Cor. 16, 22,
is a just sentence. Such a man, he argues,
is no friend to God, no friend to his fellow
beings, no friend to himself. Nay, he con
tends that such a man is an enemy to his God,
his race, and himself. If the object of the
mission of the Lord Jesus into our world was
to magnify the law of God and make it hon
orable, and thereby vindicate the character of
God as a law-giver—if he came to maintain
the honor of God’s justice—if his first, great
purpose was to glorify God in his life, doc
trine, and death—then he that loves not the
Son of God has no regard for the character
of God, no respect for his law, treats his jus
tice with contempt, and is indifferent to his
glory. Such a man is certainly no friend to
his Maker: is it too much to say that he is
the enemy of God ?
But the mission of the Lord Jesus was one
of benevolence. “He who was rich, for our
sake became poor, that we, through his pov
erty, might be rich.” He became a homeless
wanderer, that man might have a home in
heaven. He was arraigned, insulted, and
condemned at Pilate’s bar, that man might be
justified at the bar of God. He was crowned
with thorns, and invested with the purple
robe of mock royalty, that man might be
crowned with honor and wear the robe of
righteousness. He was nailed to the accursed
tree, and died the cruel, shameful death of the
cross, that man might live. “ Peradventure,
for a good man, some would even dare to die;
but where is the record that an y one has died
for his enemies?” A pilgrimage around the
world in search of such a record would be
fruitless, until, standing beneath the cross,
you read it inscribed in the blood of the Son
of God. Now, all this is true,, as respects
the work accomplished by the Lord Jesus
Christ for a lost and guilty world. Nay, all
this had to be done, that perishing sinners
might be rescued from eternal perdition.
And oan he love his race who cherishes no
love for the benefactor of his race ? Can he
be a friend to his fellow-beings whose heart
remains unaffected by such a sacrifice in their
behalf ? Is he not an enemy, justly incurring
the curse which a righteous God denounces
against him ?
But not only is such a man an enemy to
his Maker and his race —he is an enemy to
himself That he is eminently a selfish being
does not even modify the charge against Kim.
In his love of self, he may pander to his appe
tites ; he may indulge lofly aspirations, and
labor for distinction ; he may worship at the
shrine of mammon, or become the votary of
pleasure; but in all this, he not only neglects
his highest interest, but subjects that interest,
to &tal Hftnakes no provision fa-p
--his immprta\' scul,*taeho.s lio'’importance to
the divine approbation, reftises * adrtAbe
claims of his "'best friend, and lives and dies
without God and without hope.
away from time, he stands before the judg
ment seat of Christ, and there, for the first,
time, yields to the dreadful conviction that;*
in rejecting the Lord Jesus Christ, he virtu- ‘
ally assumed the position’of an enemyA*)
God, an enemy to his race, and an enemy ti>
himself,
“Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?”
A.*T. Holmes.
Jrlertietis.
Dr. Way land’s Conversion.
It occurred when he was about twenty or
twenty-one years of age, and is related in
reminiscences under his own hand. He had
pursued a course of medical study in Troy,
and had already been licensed as a physician.
He says:
“ It was now necessary that I should fix up
on a place for my future residence, and enter
on my course of life as a permanent arrange-’
ment. I had always had a decided impression
that I should be a preacher of the gospel, and
had frequently felt that my medical studies
were only an incident in my life. After
thinking frequently upon these things, it oc£
curred to me that all my life had been spefflf
in studies and labors which had no cqnnecti<p
with my eternal destiny. The life to come
had been practically ignored. I believed, all
that the Bible said of my condition and my
danger. Jesus Christ came to sinners;
yet I had never sought his forgiveness, npr
had I ever made a single honest effort for
salvation of my soul. I had never for a sin
gle day in my life, laid aside all other busi
ness, and earnestly sought of God the renew
ing influences of the Holy Spirit. This
seemed to me most unreasonable,, and I could
not but think that if I were forever lost, the
recollection of it would add increased bitter
ness to a ruined eternity. I resolved that,
dismissing every other thought, I would de
vote one day to reading the Scriptures and
prayer, that I might be able to say that I had
at least done something for the salvation of
my soul. lat on.ee put my resolution into
practice. I retired to my chamber and spent
a day in this way. I perceived very little
change in my feelings, save that a sense of
the importance of the matter had so grown
upon me that I resolved to spend the next
day in the same manner. At the end of the
second day, I determined to spend still a third
day in the same employment; and at the ex
piration of that day, I determined that I would
do nothing else until I had secured the salva
tion of my soul. How long time I remained
in this condition I do not now remember. I
was embarrassed by ignorance of the plan of
salvation —an ignorance all the more embar
rassing because I supposed it to be knowledge.
I had marked out for myself a plan of con
version in accordance with the prevailing the
ological notions. First, 1 must have agonizing
conviction; then deep and overwhelming re
pentance; then a view of Christ as my Sa
viour, which should fill me with transport;
and from all this would proceed anew
and holy life. Until this was done, I could
perform no work pleasing to God, and
all that I could do was abomination in his
sight. For these emotions, therefore, I prayed,
but received nothing in answer which corres
ponded to my theory of conversion. I devo
ted I know not how much time to prayer and
reading of the Scriptures, to the exclusion of
every other pursuit. This, however, could
not be continued always. I recommenced my
usual duties, making this, however, my para
mount concern. I attended religious meetings,
and derived pleasure from them. I read only
religious books. I determined that if I per
ished, 1 would perish seeking the forgiveness
of God, and an interest in the Saviour.
“At the time when I first resolved thus to
seek in earnest the salvation of my soul, there
was in none of the churches in Troy any reli
gious interest. It was a period of very unu
sual indifference to religion. But while I was
in this condition, a very extensive revival
commenced. I was deeply interested in it,
and attended all the meetings, hoping to hear
something which would tend to my spiritual
good. I found that I loved the doctrines of
the gospel, that I earnestly desired the salva
tion of souls, and felt a love for Christians
such as 1 never felt before. But I could not
believe that the light which had gradually
dawned upon my soul was anything more
than what was taught by the precepts of men.
Everything in religion seemed to me so rea
sonable, that all which I felt seemed to arise
from the mere logical deductions of the in
tellect, in which the heart, the inmost soul,
had no part. I met with the young converts,
and with them engaged in devotion, but could
not believe that the promises of the gospel
were intended for me.
“ I remember at this time to have had a
long and interesting conversation with Rev.
Mr. Mattison, a Baptist minister from Shafts
bury, Vermont. It was of the nature of an
earnest argument, in which he endeavored to
prove that I was a regenerate person, and I
as strenuously contended that it was quite
out of the question. I could not deny that
there had been a change in me; but the
change had been so reasonable and so slight
in degree, that I could not be a child of God.
Yet,|the conversation did me good. In look
ing back upon this period of my life, I per
ceive that much of my doubt and distress
was owing to the pride of my own heart. I
had formed my own theory of conversion,
and I did not like to confess that I was wrong.
I wished to have a clear and convincing expe
rience, so that I might never doubt myself,
nor others doubt concerning me. I desired
to be the subject of a striking conversion,
and was not willing to take with humility
and gratitude whatever it should please God
to give me. He in mercy disappointed me,
and made me willing to accept his grace in
' any mauner that he chose to bestow it.”
Extemporaneous Preaching 1 .
ADVANTAGES.
1. It leads to more animation and to better
action than written or discourse.
2. It gives more simplicity and directness
to style. The written style is aprt to be too
formal, perchance too metaphysical.
3. It calls forth* more Vivid thoughts and
illustrations than are inspired in writing, par
ticularly it makes- one more earnest, natural
and effective in the application.
4. The extempove talent is held in high
esteem. The one using it well is more influ
ential, and will be listened to#aore patiently
in a long discourse.
5. It gives power to make good use of pe
culiar, unexpected circumstances; to meet
trying emergencies.
6. While the extemporizer will he subject
to inequalities of success, Ris differ
ent moods, (as he woqjd alsA’'njjve been in
writing, \ he can improve hflf. pasons of jj£-
altation ; at times seeqfciijg Sr 4 outdo himself.
7. Extemporaneous-Aprea^rf^^Cilfltivotes
great concentration ofA-fhoH^Rt, 1 anc) rapid
methodizing. . J;,,
8. Pure, mental c6i|»psition ia.f ; b»ghe* r
mom i.»teUectual/efe rqiffc than tfcifywfiich »
4Pk ! v
.-efSOfctob* time for tfie
of arrangement
«f*be pla*i, ifo? Wadli% nra <Wier Bt*jj|ies. wF
for pastoral duties. * ' *
10. Its practice i9 less injurious to the
health than writing.
DISADVANTAGES.
'■ 1. It produces, especially in the case of th •
beginner, a severe conflict with his own
fined literary tastes, and with that of ho Au
dience from inaccuracy of language and vpv
erty of style. /.
2. The.solemnity and peculiar rest: is of
the'pulpit make extempore speakin .• . % Jft
more difficult thah on the rostrum, or /the
.bar.
* '*3. There is often distressing solic 1 me fpr
fear of failure, and liability of embarn *nent
. Jism annoying interruptions.
; '4, One cannot so fully save the milts of
hie investigations and mental labors.
> V DANGERS. V
» \ L, Os giving the subjects less sMiy tham
would be given them in writing; ’laying <
• therefore, less of method, and justness o' the
jMahs, ■ . /• .V t.
• t 2. Os a want of dignity, elegancy and.pre
’cisroh, in the language. /
*3. Os sameness of thought and ii j stratton
, if) different discourses. r //Y,, / •
4L Os a continual choice of cas> subjects*
». 5. Os general indolence from lack of tho«
’ constant pressure brought Upon those whp.
/write* "t
- RULES FOR SUCCESS AND ‘IMPROVEMENT.
f. Use elegant language in oonversation
and letter-writing, that it may come naturally
in speaking.
2. Prepare full plans and be familiar with
them.
3. Stock the mind with synonymous words,
especially in the case of those words which
have to be used frequently in connexion with
particular subjects.
4. Write a due proportion of serrnontf.
5. Study the styles and methods of reason
ing employed by the standard authors.
0. Stock the mind with every variety of
knowledge. Memorize Scripture, poetry, and
fine passages of prose.
7. Speak deliberately.
8. Watch and pray, lest;you yield to an
extemporizer’s temptations.— Evangelist.
The Triumph of Christianity.
The following passage is quoted by the
London Quarterly Review, with the remark
that, “ for the condensation of its wide his
toric survey, and its vigorous and glowing
eloquence, it is one of the finest in the whole
range of literature.”
“It arose in an enlightened and sceptical
age ; but among a despised and narrow-mind
ed people. It earned hatred and persecution
at home by its liberal genius and opposition
to the national prejudices; it earned contempt
abroad by its connection with the country
where it was born, but which sought to stran
gle it in its birth. Emerging from Judea, it
made its outward march through the most
polished regions of the world—Asia Minor,
Egypt, Greece, Rome—and in all it attracted
notice and provoked hostility. Successive
massacres and attempts at extermination,
persecuted for ages by the whole force of the
Roman Empire, it bore without resistance,
and seemed to draw fresh vigor from the axe ;
but assaults in the way of argument, from
whatever quarter, it was never ashamed or
unable to repel, and whether attacked or not,
it was resolutely aggressive. In four centu
ries it had pervaded the civilized world; it
had mounted the thrones of the Csesars; it
had spread beyond the limits of their sway,
and had made inroads upon barbarian nations
whom their eagles had never visited ; it had
gathered all genius and all learning into itself,
and made the literature of the world its own;
it survived the inundation of the barbarian
tribes, and conquered the world once more by
converting its conquerors to the faith ; it sur
vived an age of barbarism; it survived the
restoration of letters; it survived an age of
free inquiry and scepticism, and has long
stood its ground in the field of argument, and
commanded the intelligent assent of the
greatest minds that ever were; it has been
the parent of civilization, and the nurse of
learning; and if light, and humanity, and free
dom be the boast of modern Europe, it is to
Christianity that she owes them. Exhibiting
in the life of Jesus a picture, varied and min
ute, of the perfect human united with the
Divine, in which the mind of man has not
been able to find » deficiency or detect a
blemish—a picture copied from no model and
rivalled by no copy—it has accommodated
itself to every period and every clime; it has
retained through every change a salient spring
of life, which enables it U> throw off corrup
tion and repair decay, and renew its youth,
amid outward hostility and inward divisions.”
Pew Work. —Says a writer in the Exam
iner and Chronicle: We see no reason to
doubt, that if true and thorough efforts were
made on the part of the occupants of the
pews—-efforts in the spirit of the gospel, and
with a real love for souls in the heart —efforts
that would bless those who made them as well
as those for whom they were made—the
churches in New York and Brooklyn, and in
other cities and towns, would be well filled,
even under the ministrations of the present
occupants of their “ pulpits.**’ The gathering
of the people to the preaching of the gospel;
is left too exclusively,to the “pulpits.” The
pulpit is filled, and then it is left for the pulpit
to fill the pews. The pulpit says to the peo
ple “ Come,” but the pews only faintly echo
the invitation ; and in many instances the echo,
is not heard at all. The church, as a body, it
comparatively dumb to the outside world.
Dress. —Dr. Edward Dixon, in “ The Nak
ural History of Crime,” asks, “ Is it saying
more than can be substantiated, that our n*-
tional -taste for low and unintellectual adorn
ment is the cause of half the dishonest fail
ures, half the divorces, elopements, and crimes
of a more secret and revolting character, that
occur in our cities 1 ”
WHOLE NO. 2372.
r, “My Class for Jesus.”
' '• i ‘3«—“ The momins Ufht is breaking."
f My kreoious class for Jbsns, IjjL
' 'sho did so much for me— .X** «& -v2t
'Vhcvpaid the prioe which justice qlaimed, *
, ’“Hi Hours of.agony. * *•**- ;
i.jf ’TiaUittle, 0, my Saviour, " 0 * 1
Tjatpiy weak hand can give; \
0, It me win these thoughtless ones ~ 3
T* look to Time live. 1 * Jpr
My Whole dear, olaas for JeSus f
t Now in their.y'outhful bloom, -r
Ere shadows lie across the path— ■<- '
E■ . Dull sicknessamd the tomb: 0W- ■ ; J : '
While life is In its B|orhing,
And bright thirigacluster nigh,
May these iinmo rti drs4ij !•> l»y up v.
Their treasures ip the sky. ‘‘,s
'Mywh&lSdear class set Jesus 1 . • Y '*>
• When Calvary wa^ppfearful sum
Their cost. • \
One litSie sever
Ami glad and fair,
That eu.'!.
**Tes, I know him as :
controversialist, but is he a (jnmtiari ?”
c "de evidently thought that his b<&ng a great
Controversialist was inconsistent with his be-
ing a Christian. Perhaps, had she witnessed
the distress of that great and good man, when
‘he felt it to bo his duty to ‘enter into contro
versy with those whom he regarded as breth
ren in Christ; had she overheard him, in his
private wrestlings at a throne of grace, ex
claim, with deep emotion, “ Lord, shall I be
ashamed to defend dishonored truth? When
I gave myself to thee, at the cross of thy
Son Jesus Christ, who has redeemed me to
eternal glory, did I not also surrender to thee
all that 1 possessed ? What, if my brethren
misunderstand me! What, if my reputation
suffer, because I would defend thy injured
truth! One smile from thee, my father, will
more than make amends. Shall I, who owe
so much to thee, be ashamed to employ any
gift which thou hast given me? Lord, help
me to be faithful in using the talents which
thou hast committed to my trust, to the pro
motion of thy glory and the salvation of my
fellow-men.” I say, had this lady overheard
such a prayer as this, as some have; had she
witnessed the sacrifices of feeling, of reputa
tion, of emolument, made by that man of
God, perhaps she would have altered her opin
ion of him. The fact is, there are many
Christian men who have not got - sufficient
breadth of soul to comprehend such a man as
■Carson. Their own aims have never risen
so liis h as his, and therefore they misunder
stand .his motives. It was sufficient, however,
that .he 1 was understood by his Lord and Mas
ter. h was but “a small matter that he
should'feei judged of man’s judgment.”
[ Canadian Baptist .
jflptism and Resurrection.
In the Bampton Lectures delivered before
the University of Oxford in 1850, by E. M.
Goulburn, we find the following paragraph,
relative to the words, “ Buried with him in
baptism, wherein also ye are risen.” “ There
can be no doubt that baptism, when adminis
tered in the primitive and most correct form,
is a divinely constituted emblem of bodily
resurrection. And it is to be regretted that
the form of administration unavoidably* (if it
be unavoidably) adopted in cold climates,
should utterly obscure the emblematic signifi
cance of the rite, and render unintelligible to
all but the educated the Apostle’s association
of burial and resurrection with the ordinance.
Were immersion (which is the rule of our
[English Episcopal] church, in cases where it
may be had without hazard to the health)
universally practiced, this association of two
at present heterogeneous ideas would become
intelligible to the humblest. The water
closing over tf;e entire person would then
preach of the grave which yawns for every
child of Adam, and which one day will en
gulf all of us in its drear abyss. But that
abyss will be the womb and seed-plot of a
new life. Animation having been for one in
stant suspended beneath the water (a type
this of the interruption of man’s energies by
death,) the body is lifted up again into the
air by way of expressing emblematically the
new birth of Resurrection.”— Dr. Ripley.
High Church Pedobaptism. —The Rev.
Mr. Mirehouse, rector of Colsterworth, lately
refused to let the parish bell be tolled, or the
church be opened, for the funeral of the de
ceased child of a Mr. and Mrs. Maddison, on
the plea that it had not been baptized; the
fact being that it had been baptized by the
Wesleyan minister, whose baptism is as good
in law—not to add in the Gospel—as that of
the Archbishop of Canterbury. The grieved
and outraged parents requested the Wesleyan
minister to read the burial service over the
corpse in the Wesleyan chapel. That minis
ter waited upon the rector to be informed
whether it was true that he had done as was
reported in the case; but the reverend gen
tleman refused to be catechised. The Wes
leyan brother then complied with the request
of the parents, and afterward accompanied
the corpse and the mourners to the church
yard ; to find its gates closed against them.
At this juncture, his majesty, the rector, sent
to demand sight of the certificate of baptism—
which was at once produced. He still defer
red opening-the gates until the bereaved
mother had jfaitkfM th.p At last h©>
relented, and unlocked the yard, and read the
service himself over the grave, much in the
tone in which a mongrel, half bear and half
hyena, would have been likely to have done
it. Colsterworth—Sir Isaao Newton was
boi4i there—is in Lincolnshire; and this is
the 19th century.
Astronomical Misconceptions. —At a re
cent meeting in Edinburg, the chairman said
he had heard a story lately, connected with
'an eclipse. There was a young man living
in a village where it was known that an eclipse
was to be visible at a certain time, and after
wards he was asked if he had seen the eclipse.
He unfortunately I have not.
Just about tfwvery time it was to take place,
my master sent me on a message some two
miles into the country, and although I ran all
the way, and as hard as I could, it was all
over before I could get back.” There was an
other story told of some persons who had
visited an observatory on the Calton Hill, in
Edinburg, where it was stated the moon was
to be seen in full orb. While one young
man was looking through the telescope, his
friends very waggishly turned the tube aside
so that it struck across to the opposite side of
(he Forth. The man continued to look with
great bewilderment at seeing houses and
people walking about, and he seemed quite
delighted at thus receiving ocular demonstra
tion that the moon was inhabited. At last
the telescope rested on a sign board, and he
cried out in immense surprise, “ Oh, dear me 1
‘Alloa ales sold here.’ How on earth did they
get them up V’