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CHRISTIAN IN DEX AND SOUTH-WEST Eti\ BAPTIST.
VOL. 48-NO. 31.
A RELIGIOUS AND FAMILY PAPER,
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Losses.
Upon the white sea-sand
There sat a pilgrim band,
Telling the losses that their lives had known,
While evening waned away
From breezy cliff and bay,
And the strong tides went out with weary moan.
One spake with quivering lip,
Os a (air freighted ship,
With all his household to the deep gone down,
But one had wilder woe—
For a fair face, long ago,
Lost in the darker depths of a great town.
There were who mourned their youth,
With a most loving ruth,
For its brave hopes and memories ever green,
And one upon the West
Turned an eye that would not rest
For far-off hills whereon its joys had been.
Some talked of vanished gold,
Some of proud honor told,
Some spake of friends who were their trust no more,
And one of a green grave
Beside a foreign wave.
That made him sit so lonely on the shore.
But when their tales were done,
There spake among them one,
A stranger, seeming from all sorrow free :
“ Sad leases yeTiave met,
But mine is heavier yet,
For a believing heart is gone from me.”
“Alas,” these pilgrims said,
“For the living and the dead—
For fortune’s cruelty, for love’s sure cross,
For the wrecks of land and sea!
But, however it came to thee,
Thine, stranger, is life’s last and heaviest loss.”
—Frances Brown.
Harvest Home.
CHAPTER I.
Be not deceived : God is not mocked. Whatsoever a
man soweth, that shall he also reap.
A small party was returning from New
Mexico to one of the Western States, a wag
on containing five or six men, and one horse
man. The latter, who was the principal per
sonage, was a trader. He had just made a
fortunate trip; and his treasure, in Mexican
dollars, was carefully secured about his per
son. He rode some distance in advance, for
he was well armed, and approaching too near
the settlements to be in much danger from
Indians. Indeed, there was little to tempt
cupidity in the few necessaries the wagon
contained, and the lean, jaded mules that
drew it.
The wind blew with fearful violence across
the bleak prairie, a dark night was coming
on, while the party was yet several miles
from the creek where they expected to encamp.
As the form of the rider grew more shad
owy and indistinct, the Spaniard who drove
the wagon urged his tired animals into a trot.
It had vanished entirely from his sight before
the wagon entered the grove which bordered
the stream. Suddenly the mules stopped.
The rider bent forward to ascertain the cause,
uttering an execration. The words died away
in a groan—a thrust from a bowie-knife had
reached his heat t. His companions met the
same fate, and their bodies were thrown into
the silent stream.
One ear which heard that heavy plunge,
one “red right hand” which mingled in that
desperate struggle, were differently occupied,
a week after. The hand, washed from its
crimson stains, rested caressingly on the soft
brown curls of a lovely woman. The ear
listened to her low, earnest tones. It was a
pleasant room they were seated in, the win
dows opening on a broad, handsome street,
in a prosperous city. The curtains were
drawn back to admit the bright morning sun,
whose influence seemed to inspire a canary,
hanging in a cage near by, to utter his blithest
notes. A guitar on the table, might have
been just laid down, for the books were care
lessly pushed to one side to make room for
it. The air without was keen, for October,
and the cheerful fire, and low sofa drawn up
beside it, had a very comfortable look. That
nameless charm invested the apartment,
peculiar to a well-ordered home. Its atmos
phere of peace should have calmed the fierce
passions of Dudley Lorrimer, those which
kindled his dark eye, and knit his stern brow.
They were softened, however, by a look of
sorrow now. There was a pause in the con
versation ; the lady seemed oppressed by
painful thoughts; her companion was medita
ting a stern resolve.
He loved his wife. It was the one green
spot in the burning desert of a soul desolated
by unrestrained passions, and there was deep
pain to him in the troubled expression of the
face he gazed upon—deeper pain than the
memory of many a crime. He knew that
his neglect of his profession, his frequent ab
sence from home, and his command of money,
had awakened torturing suspicions in the bo
som of his wife, which his plausible explana
tions had failed to satisfy ; and he knew that
even this was happiness, to the sorrow which
probably awaited her. The voice of con
science he could often stifle, and smile with
bitter scorn at the opinion of the world; but
one pang, the keenest he had ever known,
awaited him, in the loss of Helen’s respect,
when she should shrink from his polluting
touch, and turn in horror from contact with a
villain. To escape this —more dreadful than
the thought of her anguish, or the dishonored
name he should leave his only child —he had
resolved that the hour of his discovery to her,
should be his last on earth. But that might
never come.
He breathed a sigh of relief, and turned as
if to ask a question. The door opening, at
tracted his attention; a little girl of about
six summers entered, slowly, for she was
lame; but the defect was slight, and did not
impede her movements as much as the heavy
volume she was carrying. With much diffi
culty, it was placed upon papa’s knee, and
she began asking eager questions about some
prints it contained, listening attentively, as
they were explained, and making comments
with a vivacity and intelligence which made
her plain features attractive. The child did
not resemble either parent; tney were both
remarkably handsome.
“So Lucy, you have learned your lessons
well, and not forgotten to feed the canary a
single morning I” said Mr. Lorrimer, closing
the book at last; “I believe that is mamma’s
account.”
“ Yes; and been quite still when mamma
had the headache,” added Lucy, with great
satisfaction.
“ Not much of a sacrifice for you, my poor
child,” replied her father, looking down at
her lame foot, with a sigh. She understood,
the glance and tone, and seemed searching
for some consoling thought, for in a moment
she said,
“ You don’t know, papa, that I can run
almost as fast as Helen Montmarie.”
The selection proved unfortunate; the
graceful child she mentioned was a perfect
contrast to herself, and the name, no pleasant
sound to the ear of her father. The Mont
maries were a French family, whose ancestor
had been one of the earliest settlers in the
Mississippi valley, and had amassed a for
tune, which the rise of property increased
in its transmission to his children. One of
them Emile Montmarie, had married an early
friend of Mrs. Lorrimer. Clara Hartly’s
superior endowments of mind and heart had
given her great influence over the wayward,
but affectionate, Helen Dunham, and it was
exerted to the utmost to prevent the latter’s
hasty marriage with a fascinating young
stranger; but to no purpose. Helen had not
been taught to subject her impulses to the
guidance of principle, and the control which
should have been imposed in childhood, she
was utterly incapable of practicing in the
full tide of success as a reigning belle. Clara,
though grieved, did not resent the rejection
of her advice, and the friends had kept up
their intimacy, as far as possible, with the
discouragements thrown in the way by Mr.
Lorrimer, who viewed the Montmaries with
jealousy and dislike. Both these feelings
were excited at Lucy’s mention of them, yet
to whom else could his Helen turn, if the
blow he had so much reason to dread, fell
upon her? She was destitute of near kin
dred, and would their affection bear the test
of infamy ?
It is not strange that many a murderer
has beer, the first to reveal his own crime—
even one not reared in the amenities of an
enlightened social circle, or under the influ
ence of association with the noble and true—
even for him remorse hath a scorpion lash.
But who shall tell the agony of that man
who casts aside the restraints which have
surrounded him in childhood and youth—the
memory of a mother’s prayers, the voice of
religious instruction, the example of the wise
and good, and brings down upon innocent
heads, “ the blasting vials of wrath,” when
a seared conscience awakes from its slumber,
when a judgment, long blinded, perceives,
at last, the wretched sophistry of deceit?
The mysterious disappearance of a well-
known trader, was now the engrossing theme
of conversation throughout the State. The
papers teemed with speculations and reports.
Several men of respectable position were ar
rested and discharged again—sufficient evi
dence not appearing to commit them. Lor
rimer maintained his usual calm, reserved
demeanor, though he knew that whispers
were afloat concerning him, and his move
ments were closely watched. His wife took
little notice of the accounts the papers con
tained, and living much alone, heard less than
others of the rumors afloat. He was glad to
evade the subject with her, though with oth-"
ers he could converse upon the subject with
apparent carelessness.
One day Lucy came in from a walk, in a
state of excitement fearful to witness in a
child. She paused in the midst of her con
fused account of a conversation she had heard
on the street, for her mother had fallen sense
less on the floor. ’Before she had recovered
her consciousness, Mr. Lorrimer came in.
He asked no questions when he saw her lying
pale and lifeless on the bed. He only bent
one momeut over her, and pressed his lips to
her white brow, caught the terrified Lucy in a
hurried embrace, and left the house. When
Helen Lorrimer woke from that death like
swoon, it was to meet the sympathizing glance
of her devoted friend, Clara Montmarie.
“Oh, Clara! you would have saved me
from this, but you could not; and now you
are here to see the fulfillment of your proph
eoy. I have reaped the whirlwind ; would it
had borne away my breath.”
“Occupy till I come,” gently whispered
Mrs. Montmarie. At the words, the expres
sion of agony passed from Mrs. Lorrimer’s
face.
“I must, I will; and I would live for Lucy.
Where is she?’’ A tear-stained face peeped
out from the shadow of the curtains, and a
little hand fumbled with the bed-clothes till
it met Mrs. Lorrimer’s clasp.
Nothing was heard of Mr. Lorrimer, and
as weeks passed aw’ay, no clue could be ob
tained to the perpetrators of the murder.
The affair finally died away, being only one
of the many tragedies occurring, at that un
settled period, on our Western border.
When the first stunning effects of her mis
fortune passed away, Mrs. Lorrimer forced
herself to look the future in the face. Her
own small property had been settled upon
her at her marriage; this, with economy,
would provide for their wants and Lucy’s
education. To the latter she resolved to de
vote all her energies: for she felt deeply the
neglect w’hich had suffered the seed-time of
her own youth to pass unimproved—the mis
taken kindness which had fostered pride and
self-will when those weeds should have been
rooted out, and taught her self-importance
instead of humility—had magnified every
trifling inconvenience or indisposition into a
serious evil, thus leaving her totally unpre
pared to meet the cares and real trials of life.
Sorrow had not been without its purifying
effect upon her character. It had given her
an elevation of mind calculated to command
Lucy’s affectionate devotion; yet, with this
advantage, her task was not easy. The child
was timid, nervous, imaginative, hanging
with delight upon every glance and tone of
affection, and shrinking in torture from cold
ness or disapproval; and such a disposition
must be trained to meet the scorn of the
proud, the ridicule of ttie vulgar, the ills of
poverty, the disadvantages of lameness and
ugliness, and a tarnished name. With Faith,
whose asking eje looks upward, she under
took her labor of love.
(To b» Continued.)
FRANKLIN PRINTING HOUSE, ATLANTA, GA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 12, 1869.
New Testament Clmrches Spiritual Organi
zations.
1. By this is meant that they are composed
of persons that are delivered “from the power
of darkness and translated into the kingdom
of His dear Son.” This feature distinguishes
them from those of the Old Testament dis
pensation, who, like Nicodemus, though a
Teacher in Israel, was astonished and incred
ulous at the doctrine of regeneration as an
nounced by the Saviour, “Ye must be born
again,” and “must worship in spirit and in
truth.” “As many as are led by the Spirit of
God, are the sons of God.” “Begotten or
born of the Spirit.” They are called spirit
ual—offer spiritual sacrifices, are built up a
spiritual house. Renewed in the spirit of
their minds. This furnishes a sufficient con
trast with the ca If worship of the Jews, their
carnal ordinances and unauthorized rites of
the present day. The early members of the
churches were branches of Christ, the vine,
and temples of the Holy Ghost. (John xv ;
Col i: 13 ; John iii and iv ; Phil, iii; Rom
viii; Eph. iv ; Ist Cor. iii: 16.
2. This spiritual state implies and teaches
regeneration —a new nature, anew creature :
once “darkness, but now light in the Lord.”
Eph. v. Called out of darkness into His
marvellous light. Ist. Pet. ii. Regeneration
is a sine qua non in religion, without which
there is no piety and no security for a Chris
tian life. The .New Testament recognizes no
others as suitable for a place in the churches.
Unconverted persons, young or old, will be
stumbling blocks to the advancement *of
Christ’s cause, and a curse to the spiritual
fold. Asa barren tree in the orchard pro
duces nothing but leaves, encumbering the
ground, so, lifeless members in the garden of
the Lord. Their example and spirit will be
deleterious on others, and lead them into
apostacy and the crooked paths of sin.
3. They were all believers in Christ. Be
lievers were the more added to the Lord,
both men and women ; Acts v. “And the
Lord added to the church daily the saved ;
Acts ii; not such as might be saved, but so
zomenous, those already in a state of salva
tion. When they believed Philip preaching,
they were baptized, both men and women;
Acts viii. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ
and thou shalt be saved; Acts xvi. All
that believe and are justified ; Acts xiii.
4. They loved the Saviour and were obedient
to His commands. We love Him because
He first loved us; Ist John iv. The love of
God is shed abroad in your hearts ; Rom. v.
This is the love of God, that we keep His
commandments; Ist Johnv: that is, obe
dience is a sure criterion of love. If any
man love God, the same is known (or ap
proved) of Him; Ist Cor. v. They keep
the ordinances as delivered unto them, (Ist
Cor. xi,) obey from the heart that form of
doctrine .delivered, (Rom. vi.)
5. They try to please God by the love and
practice of the truth. All men have not
faith, and without faith it is impossible to
please Him, (Heb. viii.) “They that are in
the flesh cannot please God,” (Rom. viii,)
but these people are all the children of God
by faith. In Christ by a living faith ; they
honor God by their work of faith, labor of
love, and patience of hope; Ist Thess. i.
They are made free by the truth, and are
sanctified by the truth; John viii. Chosen
to salvation through the belief of the truth,
they speak the truth in love; they live to
God. But they could not endure error nor
the wicked ways and practices of men. They
could do nothing against the truth nor toler
ate those who did. Love of the truth and
spread of the truth absorbed their minds and
engaged their best faculties.
6. A peculiar and persecuted people. If
the world hale you, ye know it hated Me,
before it hated you ; and He was hated with
out a cause; John xv. So, frequently are
His disciples, who are peculiar in their faith
and practice and persistent adherence to un
popular truths. But though defamed and
cruelly treated, they have been careful not to
violate the rights of others, specially their
religious liberty and rights of conscience.
Soul liberty they esteem among the most pre
cious privileges, and thousands of them have
been hung on the gibbet and burnt at the
stake because they would not relinquish these
nor yield their faith in the Scriptures to the
traditions and false interpretations of men.
7. A holy people. The spirit of holiness
is in them, and the fruit of holiness is exhib
ited in their lives; Rom. i: 6. Created in
holiness and partakers of the Lord’s holi
ness; Eph. iv, and Hebrews xii. Ever since
they became spiritual they have been seeking
holiness, (without which no man shall seethe
Lord,) and for glory, honor, immortality,
eternal life; Rom. ii. Though not perfect—
though they have not attained to the true
image of the Redeemer—they “press toward
the mark for the prize,” and when they awake
in Christ’s likeness, they will be like Him;
then, as said the King of Israel, “they will
be satisfied.”
8. The primitive churches exhibited such
trails as we have portrayed. No other classes
were admitted knowingly, and if some crept
in unawares, they were to be put away ; for
“what concord hath Christ with Belial ” ?
“Be not unequally yoked together with un
believers ; 2d Cor. vi. Come out, be sepa
rate. If we admit the unregenerate, because
they will support our cause, we are covetous,
selfish and hypocritical, and have more rea
son to fear the curse than to hope for the
blessing of God. We act cruelly to the
souls of such, because we do not warn them
of their awful danger, unreconciled to God,
their final Judge.
9. If we imitate the primitive church, we
shall build of such material only as did the
Apostles. We may mistake sometimes, but
we should scrutinize most carefully, in the
fear of God, all that apply, whether they are
spiritual, and trees of the Lord’s planting.
If we build on the foundation “hay, wood
and stubble,” very combustible matter, our
work will be burned and we shall suffer; Ist
Cor. iii.
| 10. Their title to heaven ie bated on the
promises of the sovereign and immutable Je
hovah. “1 will never leavTchee nor forsake
thee;” Heb. xiii. “They are heirs of God and
joint heirs with Jesus Christ” to unfading and
imperishable glory ; Ronu-vili. “They are
kept by the power of God through faith unto
salvation” (felicity); Ist i. God is
able to keep those adopted<:n his family, (and
all spiritual sons are,) for He is omnipotent,
nor “shall any” in the language of Jesus, “be
able to pluck them out hands” John
x. That the world may know—that thou
hast loved them as tho* *hast loved me;
John xvii.
God that is immutable will not change in
His affection for His people; for those that
are begotten of His Spirit-7-ihat are regener
ate—believers in His Son—obedient to his
commands—those trying to please Him—
persecuted because of their love of the
truth—in whom the Spirit At' Holiness reigns,
and who are on their way to the heavenly
mansiops. A mother her child ;
yet, says Jehovah, in Isaiah- xlix: 15, “will I
not forget thee”—His people.
These blessed truths sbr&jp stir gratitude
within us, and urge us on Juries to ad
vance His cause. Is rjot it n exhibition of so
great love that entitles us be the children
of God, sufficient to warm our hearts and in
duce us to make greater edifices ?
And shall we evsr li**
At this poor rate—
Our lore so cold, so to Thee,
And Thine to us so great ?
A. S.
Organic Unity among Baptists.
“ Despite all the alien pertaining to
a civil war, the heart-yearnings for some kind
of organic unity are strong*! - than ever.”
Wm. Hague, D.D.
Is it organic unity that Baptists need ?
Look at the effects of organic unity upon
other denominations. The Roman Catholic
church, with its one head at Rome, and its
infallible decrees of councils, presents the
grandest specimen of organic unity on earth.
That unity seems power—power to perse
cute heretics, but it is no?,*the unity of the
Spirit, it is not the bond of love. The or
ganic unity of the Church of England binds
together Ritualists and Evangelicals in per
petual strife. The troubles of the Presby
terians have arisen mainly .from their efforts
to maintain organic unity among those whose
differences of sentiment w »uld suggest the
expediency of different organizations. In
Kentucky every local P* .ribyterian church
has been divided into parties, for the sake of
organic unity. Why have Baptist churches
suffered less than many otters from political
discord since the war ? Not that there are
fewer “rebels” in Baptist churches than in
others. Not that there are fewer abolition
ists and “loyal” men (sc Hied) in Baptist
churches. But the very absence of orgamic
uiltty is our peace and strength.
I speak not of spiritual unity, but of or
ganic, visible unity. 1 trust the heart yearn
ings of all Baptists for spiritual unity are
stronger than ever. If our whole brother
hood were one in sentiment, one in feeling,
one in purpose, we should be a mighty power,
as superior to the organic unity of Rome as
the sling of David was mightier than the
sword of Goliah.
As Dr. Hague is a Baptist, it is presuma
ble that the organic unity desired by him is
nothing more than some large Missionary
Society, which shall bear the same relation to
the whole country that the American Baptist
Missionary Union does to the North, and the
Southern Baptist Convention does to the
South. But why need there be “heart-yearn
ings” to have one rather than two large mis
sionary societies for the Baptists of the
United States? Were all sectional animosities
entirely laid aside, it' would still be a ques
tion whether the work of missions would not
be more effectually carried on in two organi
zations than in one. The existence of a Bap
tist Board of Foreign Missions in Boston and
another in Richmond, need not be an evi
dence of discord among American Baptists,
just as the existence of two Baptist churches
in Atlanta is no evidence that there is a want
of spiritual unity among the Baptists of At
lanta. F.
Ritualism.
In these days we bear of Ritualism, as of
some dangerous monster escaped from his
chain, or as some nameless disease, mocking
the physician’s skill, and tiireatening to de
stroy all in its ravages. What is this thing of
which so much is said, of which so many
seem in fear? It is the mantle of ajost reli
gion. It comes'in the rwm of a saving
knowledge of God. Vital truth has been
driven off by the chimerical power of human
depravity, and a piteous mass of corruption
is deified, dressed in the gaudiest trappings,
and set up in the temple of God.
It is claimed that this abomination came
from Rome, and is drawing much of Protest
antism back toward the city of the Harlot.
As we cast our eyes over the religious world,
we see it to be so. But, happy should we be,
if the English Establishment and its branches
alone were in danger from such an evil.
There are those who claim not to have come
from the throne of the Popes, who'date their
rise to a period remote as that when our era
began, and yet among them the monster Rit
ualism is beyjg widely and almost universally
developed. When vital piety disappears
from among those called Christians, all that
is left we may properly denominate Ritual
ism. Vital, living, energizing, life-controlling
piety, has but a very limited ex f stence among
the very beet of the religious denominations
of our country. Scarcely can a layman be
found who makes the religion of Jesus the
primary object of life. It would not be too
much to say, perhaps, that not more than one
professor of religion in the hundred, our
country over, prays statedly in secret so often
as once a day. And yet these people, many
of them, fill their places in the house of wor
ship on the Sabbath.
Prayer meetings are little attended, and in
most cases the prayers made in them are as
spiritless as the great oould desire.
Seldom, indeed, can a layman -be found who
will exhort his brethren in the house of prayer.
The plea is, laymen have not time to
think of religion, and therefore cannot lecture
on it. This is true. Their time is taken up
with other pursuits and other thoughts.
Deacons, for the most part, in our own
churches, are as destitute of spirituality as
laymen. When they have borne the ele
ments at communion, and collected the money
of the church, they seem to feel that their
work is done. The thought that they could
and ought to do something directly and per
sonally for the salvation of sinners, seems
never to enter their minds. The spiritualities
of the church, if such an expression be allow
able, are left wholly to the pastor.
And what shall be said of pastors ? Are
they of the Apostolic pattern ? Do they
give themselves to prayer and to the preach
ing of the word ? Do they go from house to
house, beseeching men with tears to be re
conciled to God? How many pastors are
there in our land whose highest aim is the
salvation of sinners, and the building up ol
the saints in righteousness? Who of them,
if about to leave their people forever, could |
say as Paul said to the Ephesians, when
parting w.ith them for the last time, “ I take
you to record this day, that I am pure from
the blood of all men?”
W-hat do we see in the sanctuary on the
Sabbath ? Thoughtless congregations, costly
array, pride and show. What do we hear?
A learned discourse, fashioned after the latest
improvement in style, exquisite instrumental
music, with choir accompaniment.
What is all this but Ritualism? How
long till we, too, abandoning the antiquated
names and forms of our earnest, godly fath
ers, shall join the grand procession to the
halls of the Popes? Though some distance
in the rear, are we not already in the proces
sion ?
Temperance.
I heartily enddrse the remarks of brother
Robert Fleming relative to the cause of
Temperance. It is time the people were
stirring in this matter. The demoralization
of the times is so wide-spread that I fear but
little good can be anticipated among adults.
But the great harvest-field is among the ris
ing generation. The great harvest-field of
the church is, the children of to-day. Let
Washingtonian societies and Bands of Hope
be organized in every community and school.
Let members of the church “put on the whole
armor of God.” Col. George N. Lester is
said to be the greatest temperance orator of
the age—why is his voice silent ? Can he not
be induced to go forth to battle for the right?
Rev. W. T. Brantly, Rev. H. C. Hornady,
Rev. W. H. Clark and others, are lending
valuable aid to tnis great cause." While 1 be
lieve that temperance societies can be of es
fective service in the cause of moral eleva
tion, my firm conviction is, that vitalized
Christianity is our only hope. One of the
great stumbling blocks in the path of Chris
tianity is intemperance. Let, then, every
member of the church “shun the appearance
of evil,” and lend material aid to the temper
ance cause, taking as his motto, “undying
hostility to the drinking usages of society—
unbounded sympathy for its victims.”
Movements are now on foot to concentrate
the efforts of all temperance men in one asso
ciation, where “Son,” and “Knight,” and
“ Good Templar ” call all to unite together
for the overthrow of Bacchus. So mote it
be. W. G. Whidby.
The Kingdom of Home.
“The following song, by W. R. Duryee, received the
SIOO prize offered by the publishers ot Hearihand Home.
The committee who awarded the same, consisted of
Alice Cary, Bayard Taylor, and C. A, Dana:
Dark is the night, and fitful and drearily
Rushes the wind like the waves of the sea;
Little care I, as here I sing cheerily,
Wife at my side and baby on knee;
King, King, crown me the King;
Home is the Kingdom and Love is the Kingl
Flashes the firelight upon the dear faces,
Dearer and dearer as onward we go,
Forces the shadow behind us, and places
Brightness around us with warmth in the glow.
King, King, crown me the King;
Home is the Kingdom and Love is the King 1
Flashes the lovelight, increasing the glory,
Beaming from bright eyes with warmth of the soul,
Telling of trust and content the sweet story,
Lifting the shadows that over us roll.
King, King, crown me the King;
Home is the Kingdom and Love is the King!
Richer than miser with, perishing treasure,
Served with a service no conquest could bring;
Happy with fortune that words cannot measure.
Light-hearted I on the hearthstone can sing,
King, King, crown me the King;
Home is the Kingdom and Love is the Kingl
Poor Economy.
Many a man, for love of pelf,
To stuff his coffers, starves himself;
Labors, accumulates, and spares,
To lay up ruin for his heirs ;
Grudges the poor their scanty dole;
Saves everything—except his soul!
Baptism and Circumcision.
The Congregalionalist says that “the Chris
tian and Mosaic dispensations lapped over
during a whole generation at least,” and that
“ there can be no question that for years, both
rites were in use.” The Watchman db Re
flector replies: “The admission is inconsis
tent with the idea that baptism took the place
of circumcision; for it has generally been
assumed that the former so came at once into
the place of the latter, under the direct su
pervision of the apostles, that no particular
command was needed in the case. The whole
thing became fully adjusted under their eye,
and hence the general silence of the Scrip
tures on the subject. But if, so far as the
Jewish Christ'aus were concerned, the two
rites existed side by side, the one as univer
sal as the other, and each as applied to the
same subject, the whole idea that baptism
was the symbolical equivalent of circumcis
ion, and was its Christian substitute, must be
abandoned; for the fact of the substitution
end the idea of the substitution, were wholly
unknown to the apostolic period.”
A Pollte Audience. —John Wesley al
ways preferred the middling and loWer classes
to the wealthy. He said : ‘lf I might choose,
I should still, as I have done hitherto, preaoh
the gospel to the poor.’ Preaching in Monk
town church, a large, old, ruinous building,
he says: ‘I suppose it has scarce had such a
congregation during this century. Many of
them were gay, genteel people, so I spoke
on the first elements of the Gospel; but I
was still out of their depth.’ Oh! how hard
it is to be shallow enough for a polite audi
eso*!
The Unseen Precipice.
I recollect one member of Congress, said
Governor Briggs, m one of his speeches, who
was always rallying me about our Congres
sional Temperance Society :
“Briggs,” he used to say, “1 am going to join
your Temperance Society as soon as my de
mijohn is empty.” But just before it became
empty, he always filled it again. At one
time towards the close of the session, he said
to me : “1 am going to sign the pledge when
1 get home. lam in earnest,” continued he,
“my demijohn is nearly empty, and I am not
going to fill it again. He spoke with such an
air of seriousness as I had uot before ob
served, and impressed me ; and I asked what
it metit, —what had changed his feelings?
“Why,” said he, “1 had a short time since
a visit from my brother, who stated to mo a
fact that more deeply impressed and affected
tne than anything I recollect to have heard
upon the subject, in any temperance speech
I ever heard or read. In my neighborhood
is a gentleman of my acquaintance, well edu
cated, who once had some property, but is
now rtduced, —poor ! He has a beautiful and
lovely wife—a lady of cultivation and refir.e
ment—and a most charming daughter.
“This gentleman had become decidedly in
temperate in his habits, and had fully alarmed
his friends in regard to him. At one time,
w hen a number of bis former associates were
together, they Counselled as to what coufd be
done for hrm. Finally, one of them said to
him, ‘Why don’t you send your daughter
away to a certain distinguished school ?’
which, he named.
“ ‘Oh, I cannot,’ said he, ‘it is out of the
question. lam notable to bear the expense.
Poor girl, I wish I could.’
“‘Well,’said his friend, ‘if you will sign
the temperance pledge, I will be at the ex
pense of her attending school one year.
“‘What does this mean?’ said he. ‘Do
you think me in danger of becoming a drunk
ard V
“ ‘No matter,’ said his friend, ‘about that
now.; but I will do as I said.’
“ ‘And I,’ said another, ‘will pay the rent
of your farm a year, if you sign the pledge.’
“ Well, these offers are certainly liberal—
but what do you mean ? Do you think me in
danger of becoming a drunkard ? What can
it mean? But, gentlemen, in view of your
liberality, I will make you an offer. 1 will
sign, if you will.’
“This was a proposition they had not con
sidered, and were not very well prepared to
meet; but for his sake they said they would,
and did sign, and he with them.
“And now, for the first time, the truth
poured into his mind, and he saw his condi
tion, and sat down, bathed in tears.
“ ‘Now said he, ‘gentlemen, you must go
and communicate these facts to my wife—
poor woman ! I know she will be glad to hear
it, but I cannot tell her.’
“Two of them started for that purpose.
The lady met them at the door, pale and
trembling with emotion.
“‘Wnat,’ she inquired, ‘is the matter?
What has happened to my husband?’
“They bade her dismiss her fears, assuring* 1
her that they had corns to bring her tidings
of her husband—but good tidings, such as she
would be glad to hear.
“‘Your husband has signed the temperance
pledge ; yea, signed in good feitK’
“The joyous news nearly overcame her ;
she trembled with exoitement; wept freely,
and clasping her hands devotionally, sin
looked up to heaven and thanked God for the
happy change.
“ ‘Now, said she, ‘I have a husband as he
once was, in the happy days of early love.’
“But this was not what movad me,” said
the gentleman. “There was in the same vi
cinity another gentleman —a generous, a no
ble soul, married young, married well, into
a charming family, and the flower of it. His
wine drinking habits had aroused the fears o!
his friends, and one day, when several were
together, one said to another, ‘Let us sign the
pledge.’ ‘I will, if you will,” said one to an
other, till all had agreed to it, and the thing
done.
“This gentleman thought it rather a smajl
business, and felt a little sensitive about re
vealing to his wife what he had done, but on
returning home he said to her—
“ Mary, my dear, 1 have done what will
displease you.’
“Well, what is it ?’
“‘Why, l have actually signed the temper
ance pledge-’
“ ‘Have you ?’
“ ‘Yes, I have, certainly.’
“Watching his manner as he replied, and
reading in it sincerity, she entwined her arms
around his neck, she laid her head upon his
bosom, and burst into tears. Her husband
was affected deeply by this conduct of his
wife, and said—
“ ‘Mary, don’t weep, I did not know it
would awict you so, or l would not have
done it. I* will go and take my name off
immediately.’
“‘Take your name off!’ said she; ‘oh, no,
let it be there. I shall now have no more so
licitude in reference to your becoming a
drunkard. 1 shall spend no more wakeful
midnight hours. I shall no more steep my
pillow in tears.
“Now, for the first time, truth shone upon
his mind, and he folded to his bosom bis
young and beautitul wife, and wept with her. ’
A Word Wanted.
An officer of the United States marine
corps, who vouches for its accuracy, sends us
the following contribution to the humorous
recollections of the “ rebellion “One after
noon about""the close of the war, in April,
1865, a part of the United States squadron
stationed in Albemarle Sound, was lying off
the village of Edenton, North Carolina. A
message was sent from the shore to Captain
Macomb, commander of the fleet, announcing
that the ceremony of public baptism would
be performed at 2 o’clock. The Captain,
ever courteous and considerate,supposed that
some of his officers might wish to witness
this little episode in the tedious monotony of
blockading, and directed that the fact should
be communicated by signal to the other ves
sels. The naval signal-book was forthwith
brought and searched, but the word baptism
was not to be found. Here was a quandary,
and time was rapidly passing; but the Cap
tain was not to be foiled. The quartermaster
oK tlie watch was set to work, and its a few
nmiutes the bright-colored signal-fl ; gs of the
Shamrock were at the mast head, and the as
tonished officers of the other ships read—
‘ There will be religious diving on shore at
2 P.M.’
An Irreverent Yorkshireman. —The Lon
don Baptist Freeman has the hardihood to
say that there is a story current in Yorkshire
to the effect that when the Congregational
Union met at Halifax, the presence of so
many ministers in the streets excited much
inquiry amongst the “hands.” “What be it
all about?” exclaimed one spinner. “Oh,”
replied his companion, who thought he had
solved the mystery, “the parsons be come to
swop sermons with one another!” Just.as if
an evangelical minister ever preached an
other minister’s sermon ! Baptist ministers
dont do such things, as every body knows.—
Ex db Chron.
WHOLE NO. 2451.
A. Tale Unfolded.
The Count he w«s riding home one day,
But meeting his groom upon the way,
“ Where are you going, groom?” suith he,
“ And where do you come (rom ? Answer me."
“I’m taking a walk for exercise’ sake j
And besides, there’s a house l want to take.”
“To take a house!'’ said the Count. “Speak out;
Whut are the folks at home about?”
“Not much has hnpponed,” the servant said,
“Only, your little white dog is dead.”
“Do you tell me my faithful dog is dead?
And how did this happen?” the master said.
“ Well, your horse took fright and jumped on the hound,
Then rail to the river and there got drowned.”
“ My noble steed, the stable’s pride I
What frightened him?” the master cried.
"’Twas when, if I remember well,
Your son from the castle window fell.”
“My son? But I hope he escaped with life.
And is tenderly nursed by my loving wife?”
“Alas I the good Countess has passed away,
for she diopped down dead where her dead son lay,”
“ Why, then, in time of such trouble and grief,
Are you not taking care of the castle, you thief?”
“ The castle I I wonder which you mean 1
Os yours but the ashes are now to be seen.
As the watcher slept, misfortune direl
la a moment her hair and her clothes took fire.
“ Then the oastle around her blazed up in a minute,
And all the household have perished in it,
And of them all Pate spared but me.
Thus gently to break the news to theel”
— hrom the German of Grun.
I Will Give N thing.
“There is that scattereth, and.yet iucreasoth ; and
there is that witbboldeth more than is meet, but it tend
eth to poverty.”— Prov. xvi: 24.
A minister soliciting aid towards his chapel,
waited upon an individual distinguished for
his wealth and benevolence. Approving the
cause, he presented to his minister a hand
some donation, and turning to his three sons,
who had witnessed the transaction, he advised
them to imitate the example. “My dear
boys,” said he, “ you have heard the case ;
now what will you give?” One said, “I will
give all my pocket will furnishanother
said, “I will give half that I have in my
pursethe third sternly remarked, “ I will
give nothing.”
Some years after, the minister had occasion
to visit the same place, and recollecting the
family he had called upon, he inquired into
the actual position of the parties. He was
informed that the generous father was dead ;
the youth who had so cheerfully given all his
store, was living in affluence; the son who
had divided his pocket money, was in com
fortable circumstances; but the third, who
had indignantly refused to assist, and haught
ily declared he would give “ nothing,” was
so reduced as to be supported by the two
brothers.
The above anecdote is a striking illustra
tion of the words of Solomon. Men of prop
erty should contribute largely: they should
recollect that they are responsible to God (br
the use they make of their fortunes, and He
will hereafter call for the account. — London
Christian Witness.
Coining Clean ont of Babylon.
Dr. Guthrie, in his “Gospel in Ezekiel,”
in reference to the exit of the Presbyterian
Church from Rome, says: “Three hundred
years ago, our church with an open Bible on
her banner and this motto, ‘Search the Scrip
tures,’ on its scroll, marched out from the
gates of Rome.” Then he asks : “Did they
come clean out of Babylon?” In answering
his question, he says : “J- fear that,, on de
parting from the church of Rome, we carried
into our Protestantism —as was not unnatu
ral —some of her ancient superstitions.”
Among these, he mentions “the extreme anx
iety which some parents show to have bap
tism administered to a dying child.” “Does
not this look,” he asks “very like a rag of the
old faith ?” “To what else,” he asks again,
“than some lingering remains of popery can
we ascribe it?” And a writer in an exchange
says: “To what else can the baptism itself
be ascribed, but to the ‘lingering remains of
popery,’ cherished and maintained within the
pale of every Pedobaptist Church ? The bap
tism itself is but a ‘rag,’ a superstitious rite,
of superstitious and corrupt Hume.”
Very Close Communion. —Grace Green
wood tells the story in the Independent, of a
queer ex-minister whom she knew in her
youth, at Farmington, Ct.: “He got into
ecclesiastical hot water, came under censure,
and was suspended from his church privi
leges. He took the discipline in a most un
sanctified spirit; went regularly to meeting,
always coming rather late, stamping up the
aisle, and scowling around him in unconquer
able defiance. On communion Sundays he
actually brought with him his own bread and
wine—the latter in a vial suspended from his
neck by a string. There could hardly be im
agined a sight more shocking, and at the
same time ludicrous, than the stout, fiery old
recusant, sitting bolt upright in his pew, eat
ing from his little private store of bread, and
drinking from his ‘vial of wrath.’ This seems
to me about the closest communion on re
cord. Taken in that way, from the vial, the
wine seemed to choke him, as. after a swal
low, he always gave a sharp ‘Ahem !’ which
resounded through the meeting-house.”
A Short and Easy Method. “Last
summer, when expressing our surprise to an
English clergyman that a man like Dr. Lit
tledale should be suffered, without challenge,
to speak in such a style of the Reformers, we
were met by a summary declaration or ex
c’amation, which put an end to all further
discussion on the subject. ‘Dr. Littledale!
Dr. Littledale is an ass /’ ‘ We are beginning
seriously to think,’ says the Presbyterian,
(Edinburgh,) ‘that we shall be obliged to re
sort to this short and easy method of dealing
with other extreme Ritualists.’ ”
No Objection. —A zealously busy Epis
copalian rector, not many miles from us,
called upon a lady, a few days since, and
urged her to join “the ohureh.” “But,” said
she, “do you not think a person ought to ex
perience a change of heart, and become con
verted, in order to taking that step?” “Well,”
replied the clergyman, “I do not knowsihat
that would be any objection, but you need not
wait for that!” Doubtless the lady should
feel comforted by the possibility that con
version would be “no objection” to member
ship in the church.— Chris. Secretary.
Folly. —ln reference to the presents made
to the Pope, on the recent fiftieth anniversary
of his first celebration of the mass, amotmk
ing to some $4,000,000, the London
the Presbyterian Banner says: Thetfjiii p
story going to the effect that a wealthy j§lg|
lishman presented a cap, or flexible hat,
with gold sovereigns. All he asked-in return*
was a present of a cap that had been worn
by the “holy father.” Whereupon a cham
berlain was called, and ordttKftd to
what was asked lbr—th© dupe and fool re
ceiving it exultantly ! isl
Very Important to a re
cent ordination service in Illinois, the cayndi
date being the son of the
Beecher, D.D., late of Galesburg, the mini#-
ter who gave the young man his
ennily addressed him thus: “I charge ]|fn
never to forget that you are the son of yowl
father, the grandson of your grandfather ,
and the nephew of your uncleP He should
have added, and also the nephew of your
aunt.