Christian index and South-western Baptist. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1866-1871, January 09, 1868, Image 1

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CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SDUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST. YOL. 47-NO. 2. A RELIGIOUS AND FAMILY PAPER, PUBLISHED WEEKLY ITT ATLANTA, GA. J. J. TOO IN, Proprietor. TERMS: For one year, {SO Nos. in a volume) $4 00 For six months *• • • 00 For three months 1 00 To any Minister of the Gospel we will send the paper one year for $3. Subscriptions invariably in advance. Remit tances carefully made, at the risk of tne Proprietor. ADVERTISING RATES. One square (8 lines) one insertion 00 For a longer period than one month, a discount of 33J per cent, will he made. In no case will advertisements be inserted with out payment in aAvance Persons at a distance wish ing to advertise can mark the number of squares they wish to occupy, and remit the money accordingly. To Correspondents. —All communications for the paper, and all letters on business, must be addressed to J. J. Toon, proprietor. 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’