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CHRISTIAN IN DEX AND SOUTH-WEST Eti\ BAPTIST. VOL. 48-NO. 31. A RELIGIOUS AND FAMILY PAPER, PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN ATLANTA, QA TERMS.—CIubs of Four, ($3.00 each! per annum...sl2 00 Clubs of Three, ($3.33 each) per annum... 10.00 Clubs of Two, (3.50 each) per annum 7.00 Single Subscriber 4.00 J. J. TOON", Proprietor. 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.