Newspaper Page Text
CHRISTIAN IN DM AND SOUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST.
VOL. 49-NO. 13.
A RELIGIOUS AND FAMILY PAPER.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY IN ATLANTA. OA
TBRMS.— Clubs of Four, (#3.00 eaoh) per annum...sl2 00
Club* of 'Three, ($3.33 each) per annum... 10.00
Club* of Two, (3.50 eaoh) per annum 7.00
J. J. TOON, Proprietor.
The Shepherd and the Best
0 pen tie Shepherd, guided by thy hand ,
My soul hath found her everlasting rest,
Thou leadest me toward my Father-land,
And on my way thy presence makes me blest I
Sadly and wearily I went along,
Tumult: and vain unrest on every hand,
Until thou drew’si me from the noisy throng,
And brought me to a quiet pasture-land 1
And ah. what sweetness 1 experienced there 1
The blue sk.v crystal clear, and from the trees
A thousand balmy odors fill the air.
Borne on the pinions of the vernal breece.
For heart and eye, how rich the pasture spread 1
When with unceasing change, bv day and night,
Like a fair garb, with jewels all inlaid, t
A veil of freshest flowers enchants my sight.
The noonday sun, unveiled by envious clouds,
Calls forth their varying tints in hues of light;
And when in evening shade his beams he shrouds,
The violets yield their fragrance to the night.
How well the unbroken calm, so deep and still,
My soul refreshes, —long with tumult filled;
And now,“tn«-thinks, my undivided will,
May to .oy Shepherd’s will forever yield.
Tholuok.
“ Non Omnis Moriar.”
When death comes near, with quickened paoe,
To chill me where I lie;
When his dark wing shall stop the race,
And fan the bloom from out my face.
Not all of me shall diet
When fades the mortal from my view,
Not all of me shall die I
When speak the lips their latest word,
In hurried whisptr, half unheard,
Not ull of me shall die I
A voice from out the Scripture saith,
“Not all of me shall die I"
Beyond this dying, and this death,
The soul shall draw immortal breath,
And never, never die.
When falls the curtain o’er life’s scene.
Not all of me shall diel
That curtaiD shall but intervene
Between this part and that unseen,
Beyond the starry sky.
Think, when you view those clods of earth
That shall our forms divide,
Though withered there the dead leaves lie,
And snows are sifted silently,—
“Not all ot her hath died.”
Or, when you tend spr'ng’s early flowers,
Unto my long rest given.
Weep not, but bless their fragrant birth,
They bloom and die but on the earth,
While souls bloom fiesh in heaven.
—Annie E. Clark, ti» Presbyterian.
Precepts.
First worship God; he that forgets to pray
Bids not himseli good-moirow nor good day.
Think what is just; ’tis not enough to do,
Unless the very thoughts are upright too.
To doubtful matters do not headlong run ;
What's well left off, Wore better not begun.
First think, and if thy thoughts approve thy will,
Then speak, and aftor, what thou speak'at lulfill.
Strive to live Well; tread in the upright wavs,
Aud rather count thine actions than thy days.
“ The Lord Will Provide."
In some way or other the Lord will provide:
It may not be my way.
It may not be thy way;
And yet in His own way
“ The f,>rd will provide.” ■ -
At some time or other the Lord will provide:
It may not ba my time,
It may not be thy time;
And yet in His own time
“ The Lord will provide.”
Despond, then, no longer, the Lord will provide:
And this be the token—
No word He hath spoken
„ Was ever yet broken —
“ The Lord will provide ”
March on, then, right boldlv, the sea shall divide:
Thy pathway made glorious.
With shootings victorious
We’ll join in the chorus, *
“The Lord will provide 1”
—Am. Messenger.
Harvest Home.
CHAPTER XHL
Christmas Eve came at last, bitterly cold.
A keen north wind whistled through the leaf
less trees, and blew the new fallen snow in
stinging particles, dry as powder, in the faces
of those who were hardy enough to brave its
fury. It was all Ilartly Montmarie could do
to keep his footing, as, with cap down over
his eyes and coat closely buttoned, he stood
on the levee waiting for the landing of the
steamer, which was to bring Emile. The
week before had been a busy week at Mr.
Montmarie’s. Such scheming, and planning,
and consulting; such arranging of rooms and
cooking up of dainties. Clara’s pantry was
overloaded, and if it is true that the French
have a natural genius for cooking, she inher
ited her full share. Helen and Lucy had
carried Mr. Montmarie off to Cunard’s, and
laid in a store of his choicest bonbons. The
presents which were to cause such joyful sur
prise, had all been prepared and hidden away
in the most mysterious manner. Every day,
when the carriage came from town, parcels
were sent in, which must be smuggled out of
the sitting room before “ somebody's" en
trance. Mr. Montmarie had locked the par
lor doors, and been carrying the parlor key
for several days. Nobody knew why, but
there were shrewd suspicions that it contained
a state secret. As Jack stood over Selim, in
the stable, giving his glossy coat a finishing
rub, he informed him, with a grin, “ Mas
* Meel ’ sure to praise him now.” So all was
ready at last, and the late dinner still delayed,
while an impatient group awaited the return
of Ilartly with Emile, from town.
“ There they are!” exclaimed Helen, spring
ing from the window where she had been
standing, to throw open the door, and in
another moment her arms were round Emile’s
necK.
“ Why, Nellie, how tall you have grown!
Clara must keep you in the background.”
‘•You have only forgotten how tall I was,
Emile,” returned Helen laughing.
“Zfu has grown taller and handsomer,” whis
pered Lucy to Hartly.
“Ah, Lucie! 1 heard that, and you intended
I should. A coquette already ?” asked Emile,
turning quickly towards her as she finished
speaking, and greeting her warmly; “ blush
ing, too. How artful!”
“ Come to dinner,” called Clara, “ and
make your compliments afterwards.”
And a merry set they were, as they gath
ered round the table.
“A dozen of your old friends are coming
out this evening to see you, Montie,” said
Hartly, “and Mr. Stanly is corning to be in
troduced to you.”
“ Highly flattering indeed ! but is that gen
tleman’s anxiety to see me, owing to the de
scription you have given him of me, or is his
interest in the rest of the family V’
“Both, of course,” remarked his father;
“ the ladies have praised—llartly and I were
too modest to say much, but our very silence
was eloquent.”
“And ominous too, perhaps,” laughed
Emile. “ Well, I shall see. I shall take obser
vations when he comes. My curiosity is cer
tainly excited by finding a comparative stran
ger so high in your regard.”
“To be sure, he is rather a stranger,” said
Mr. Montmarie, thoughtfully; “ but he has
ceased to seem like one."
The evening was colder and stormier than
the day had been. Some few adventurous
spirits, however, risked its discomfort and
found their way to Mr. Montmarie’s, and
Mr. Stanly, one of whose favorite virtues
was punctuality, among the number.
“A. man is false in everything who is false
to his word, Miss Montmarie.” This was his
greeting to Clara; “ a laggard in love and a
dastard in war.”
“ Then you deserve to be considered loyal
to night," was her smiling reply.
“ Loyal and true," echoed Helen from be
hind her sister.
“ You there, Miss Helen, and oruel as ever?
Lets sign a truce.”
“Agreed,” called Helen, as she ran off;
‘“for one night only/as the play-bills have
it."
Emile’s honest scrutiny failed to detect
anything objectionable in Mr. Stanly. He
found him, in the conversation they fell into
immediately after being introduced, as enter
taining as he had been pronounced, and as
quiet and unassuming as he was courteous
and gentlemanly. No wonder they like him,
he thought. lam already fascinated by him
myself. But the hero of the evening was nol
to be allowed to spend the evening finding
Mr. Stanly out. Several eager voices were
heard calling for him, in the midst of a very
interesting discussion between himself and
the former gentleman.
“Till another time,” Emile said, as he
bowed and rose, with an inward protest
against the interruption, to obey the call. He
was wanted to accompany the piano and vio
lin with his flute. A passion for music was
one ot the strong bonds which united the
Montmarie’s. Each one played on some in
strument, and they had been in the habit of
practicing together a great while. Emile’s
absence had been some interruption to this.
1 shall put you all out I know,” he-said
to Hartly, who was tuning his violin.
“Try it anyhow,” said the other; “since
these folks will have it so.”
And he did, the amateur concert causing
great delight in spite of his scruples. When
they had finished, and the group round the
piano was scattering, Emile gently detained
Lucy.
“ What do you say, little friend, to a quiet
chat on yonder sofa?”
“That 1 am quite agreeable.”
“ Come on, then, let’s compare notes.”
“This poteut sorcerer, who has bound you
all with his spell, is throwing his glamour
over me. But I forget, you were not quite
conquered. Do you still distrust him?”
“In some directions, yes. I think him
honorable—far too honorable for a mean ac
tion; but, Emile, there is no real safeguard
for any man, or, indeed, for any woman either,
but religious principle; and with all hisd-f
eience and respect for sacred things, 1 suspeol
Mr. Stanly is wanting there. He avoids the
subject. Politeness, you know, would pre
vent his expressing opinions which would
pain us. I think he would scorn to dissemble,
and would very much regret the loss of that
t-steem and regard he has inspired in the
family.”
“ More especially in one.”
“You mean, Clara. There is very little
doubt he seeks her favor most, but of his
success there is considerable doubt ’’
“ He is not disagreeable toJssr,..L*£&”
“No; she likes him, but the very frank
ness which allows him to perceive it, is dis
couraging, and proves it is only liking.”
“ Rather an old remark for so young a per
son. How long, pray, since you began to
make affairs of the heart a study ?”
“ Now you are laughing at me, Emile. I
shan’t say another word."
“ Forgive me, Lucie. I know some things
come to some people by intuition; but you
are really titty years too old, besides being
timid and bashful enough for one not half
your years. 'lf that is a paradox, 1 didn’t
make it, and am not bound to explain it.”
“ But you may be to prove it.”
“ There, you have broken your rash vow.
Now tell me if you think Mr. Stanly a man
likely to yield to difficulties ? lie strikes me
as one who knew no such word as fail—one
who had an iron will, and almost the intel
lect of Lucifer to sustain it. There is my
opinion.”
“ He certainly suggests unfortunate com
parisons to your mind—Gibbon and Lucifer.
Are you sure that is quite charitable?”
“ It fulfills an old proverb, at least, for here
he comes.”
“Miss Lorrimer; I have not seen you be
fore, this evening. Mr. Montmarie, I have
been expecting you to come and finish dis
cussing that contested point; but I see you
had the best of excuses. We will consider
it only a little farther deferred, not entirely
abandoned ; for I hope to see a good deal of
you, during your vacation—that is, if you
can spare the time from more important en
gagements. Good evening.”
And he took his leave. The other guests
departed, and thus ended the Christmas Eve
—Emile’s first at home after his long ab
sence —it had seemed a very long ab
sence to him, those four months. He was
awakened the next morning before it was
light, by the ringing of bells, the firing of
guns aud pistols, and the shouts aud laughter
of merry voices. He distinguished those of
Lucy and Helen at his father’s door. The
earliest visit was always made to him to ex
change a kiss and a present, and then there
was a loud rap at his own. They all met in
the sitting room as soon as a hasty toilet
could be made, and the state secret was out,
and each present exhibited and praised. Not
a servant was overlooked. In the general
jubilee, breakfast was almost forgotten, and
it was not until repeated attempts had been
made that the whole family could be collect
ed at once, to partake of the meal. There
was company to dinner, and a small party
invited for the evening engagements for the
next day and the next. The Holidays prom
ised unusual gayetv, and in that section of
the country, and at that time, they were usu
ally merry. Air. Stanly sought Clara con
stanily, was never directly avoided, and yet,
with consummate tajt that quite matched his
own skillful generalship, his attentions were
never permitted to become special or pointed.
“Brave sister, mine, thought Emile. I have
half a notion to let you fight the battle out.
Any interference might prove clOmsy, and
spoil the effeot of your splendid tactics. To
chili his intimacy here in the present position
of affairs, and with such unexceptionable con
duct on the gentleman’s part, would be a
delicate task at any rate.” And here we will
leave them f-.r the present.
Woman and Temperance. —A writer in the
New York Times charges that the practice
of indulgence in “private bottles” at home is
fearlully on the increase among respectable
ladies of New York.—Detroit is shocked at
the fact that a lady of refinement, and educa
tion, highly connected in Windsor, was found
in its streets, not long since, in a state ot
stupid intoxication.
A Slight Mistake.— A Chicago paper
says : —“ Erratum —In our paragraph yester
day concerning thirteen ministers who had
been spanked in infancy, for spanked , read
sprinkled.”
FRANKLIN PRINTING HOUSE, ATLANTA, GA., THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 1870.
was with his God. lie grew up to manhood,
and became a married man before his conver
sion; was what the world c*lis a moral man,
as he never indulged in profane shearing,
drunkenness, nor any of the grosser vices; yet
he was fond of gay company, and delighted in
the ball room and the dance. Often, however,
amid scenes of frivolity and mirth would
that deathbed scene and the faithful warning
of his dying father recur to his mind, and
drive him to retirement and prayer. He had
been married two or three years to a Miss
Pope, his first wife, (a most estimable char
acter,) had removed to Henry county, Ga.,
and was engaged in farming, when he was
fully awakened to his lost condition as a sin
ner. By what means he was awakened is not
remembered by the writer; but one night he
had become so troubled that he ooutd not
sleep, and retired from his house for prayer.
While thus engaged, Christ was revealed in
him as the hope of glory, and he was made to
rejoice in God his Saviour. He promptly
returned to his house, and told his wife of the
gracious change he had experienced. But he
could not stop there : he had a brother, about
sixty miles distant, to whom he must com
municate the joyful tidings without delay.
Next morning he took his breakfast before
daybreak, and set out on horseback to see his
brother. Before he slept, he had related his
Christian experience to his brother, and they
had bowed in prayer together before their
father’s God. It was not long ere that bro
ther was also rejoicing in hope.”
More than thirty years have elapsed since
the writer heard the foregoing relation, which
was given on the occasion of his ordination.
It is believed to be substantially correct. Ills
visit to his brother, as above stated, strikingly
illustrates his character. He was eminently
a rnan of decision and promptness. W liatever
his hand found to do, whether relating to
things temporal or spiritual, he did with his
might.
In 1833 he was ordained at McDonough,
Beitj. H. Wilson and J. 11. Campbell offioia
ting. Asa licentiate, he had been active and
useful, and now his influence was felt in all
ihe regions around. He was one of the four
ministers who were in the Constitution of the
Central Association. 'jtln-r Um-e being
B. 11. Wilson, J. T avis, and J. 11. C.itnp
bell,) performed his full share of the labor
which devolved upon them in the great revi
vals experienced in the ehurcnes ot that body
in those times. Day and night, for weeks
and months, wa« he engaged in those revival
meeting ; yet he seemed to know no weari
ness. In person, he was tall and slender, his
countenance exceedmgl y bemgn, bis voice mu
sical, and his e.ocution easy and natural. A*
a speaker, he was always pleasant, and some
times powerful. His sermons were short,
and his exhortations animated and effective;
and he could sing so sweetly! These things
rendered him popular as a preacher, especially
as a revival preacher.
In secular affairs, his attention was given
mostly to farming and merchandise, in both
of which he was quite successful. Indeed, his
native good sense, his sound judgment,
his probity and his energy qualified him for
almost any undertaking, arid would have been
a guarantee of success in almost any business
to which he might have turned his attention.
The writer, having been intimately associ
ated with brother Callaway for several years
as a member of the same ohurchand Associa
tion, most heartily adopts and endorses the
following tribute to his memory, from the
pen of Rev. E. B. Teague: “Brought to a
knowledge of the truth in early manhood, he
soon consecrated himself to the service of the
Master in the work of the ministry. En
dowed with good abilities and unusual solici
tude for souls, he overcame, in a great meas
*ure,the deficiencies of early training by making
full proof of his ministry in unwearied and in
cessant labors. He will long be remember
ed in Middle Georgia as the mode tand amia
ble coadjutor of such men as Sherwood and
Dawson, in the many labors by which they
sought to build up the cause of Christ in the
Central and neighboring Associations. Not
the least of the services of thisgood man, was
the nerve manifested in the advooacy of the
independence of the churches, assailed at one
time in that region by the influence of emi
nent brethren. Though but a licentiate, he
exhibited the calm courage of a veteran. It
is interesting to read, in this connection, the
special blessing of God on his minis* ry, in the
midst of obloquy and reproach. At a later
period, he labored with much earnestness and
success in Western Georgia. Few men have
been instrumental in winning a larger num
ber of souls to Christ.
His theory always was, that a man must
take care of his.fannly, and that the necessary
securalization is not incompatible with, or
opposed to, the successful prosecution of the
great work of preaching the gospel. Accord
ingly, he provided well for a very large
family, and preached more than most men do.
The.estimable character of that large family
is testimony to h>s uprightness, sincerity and
wisdom. Perhaps most ministers, towards
the close of l fe, if they do not endorse, yet
look with leniency on this theory. Unfortu
nate, with all the rest of us of late years, his
life and labors had so conciliated his acquaint
ance, that we trust those of his children who
are yet young, and his beloved wife, may
never want friends nor a helping hand.
Brother Callaway was a man of marked
traits of character. So sensitively pure and
conscientious was he, that any apprehension
that his fellow-laborers were actuated by
questionable motives, so damped and fettered
him that he was unmanned. He read men’s
motives with unerring accuracy. On the other
hand, unbounded confidence in those about
him, developed uuwonted energies, and kin
died him into unwonted fervors. He was, in
theology, a moderate Calvinist, and singu
larly free from all extravagance of views on
all subjects—eminently a safe and prudent
man. No man was more distinctively dis
creet in all things. He rarely or never did
anything imprudent or ill-tjtued. Constitu
tional modesty often induced him, iu our
larger gatherings, to withhold the assistance
for which his eminent wisdom fitted him. He
was, therefore, less widely known than he de-
Bev. William A. Callaway.
{Prom Campbell's Hietoryof Georgia Baptists.)
The subject of this brief sketch was born in
Wilkes county, Ga., about the year 1804.
His parents were pious members of the Bap
tist church. The author heard him relate his
Christian experience, in substance, as follows :
“From his earliest recollection, his father kept
up family worship. When taken down with
his death sickness, these exercises were sus
pended for several days. One morning, how
ever, all the family, white and o-dored, were
summoned into his room. (William was then,
perhaps, fifteen years old.) The sick man
was propped up in his bed, was much emaci
ated, and Breathed and spoke with difficulty.
He informed his family that ‘the time of his
departure was at hand,’and that he confidently
expected that day ‘to depart and be with
Christ.’ He then read a chapter, as usual,
and off. red such a prayer as none hut a dying
Christian can make. To each of the servants
he then addressed a few parting words, and
then to his children in their turn, ending with
William, who was the oldest. That scene and ;
those words of his dying father were never
forgotten. Before sunset, that father's soul
served to be. In protrjv&ed meetings and As
sociations, he preferred a subordinate place,
delighted if he might odeupy himself in hor
tatory disc >urse after had preach
ed, or, when occasion offered, in conference
and prayer meetings, tra these occasions, he
often became the soul n the meeting, enchain
ing tie riveted at»entk»n of’ his brethren, and
going home to the ooiit«i«nce of the impeni
tent by the simplicity,"fervency and ass otion*
ateness of his address, bwked by a confidence,
on their part, that kne* no limits.
No temptation could ever induce him to
offer any strange fire before the Lord. He
always spoke and acted ust as he felt, in the
pulpit and out of it. If cold, you could
scarcely wring a word exhortation or aser
mori from hm. If in i ason, he manifested
the utmost alacrity. H artlessness and-form
froze up his spirit and *»aled his lips. He
felt powerfully that God % a spirit, and seeks
such to worship him as worship in spirit and
in truth.
Ilis pulpit abilities Wfyegood ; his address
grave, decorous and tesSw*&L We often heard
the remark, that “be was-m preacher sh ipe.’
Withemly training, exmosive occupation in
the pulpit, and extens vtweaiing, he might
have been great. But h<> is gone—gone up
ro join the general assembly and church ot
the “first born.” Distibstful of himself, and
feeling the effects of lav-*years, as he often
said, of relaxation from the ministerial work,
inconsequence of the )triial failure of his
voice and nervous derangement, he was much
comforted during the ljst six months of his
life, especially during i,s long and painful
illness, by clear and pt.-eious views of the
adaptation of the SivUur to all our wants.
Retired upon his farm in iNfeighborhood some
what out of the way, be interested himself
very actively in the spiritual wants of his
neighbors. They had become greatly attached
to him. He was, indeed,- beloved wherever
he lived, confided in to lh« last degree, “a
living epistle, known of all men.”
He passed away in quiet a id holy triumph—
lingering with the brethren with whom he had
labored, and to whom fondiv attached.
Most of his life was spent at McDonough
and LaGrange, in which places and coutigu
ous churches bis labors were expended. He
has left, as a precious legacy to his children,
“a good name!' Three of his sons afe minis
ters of the gospel. His'death occurred in
June, 1865. Tne most cordial attachment
existed between him and he writer during a
period of thirty-five years
The Autobiography of au Old Pilgrim.
[Continued)
No church session was called to examine
me, no member of the (jhurch consulted in
reference to the propriety of admitting me to
membership, nor was I Required to answer
questions, or make a pubfo profession of my
laith, hope, or purpose, b fore the oongrega
Lion. All that was deemed necessary to se
cure the privilege of parjeipating with the
church in commemorating the deaih and suf
ferings of the Saviour, was the little bit ot
metal given me by my brother—which I
carefully deposited in my pocket. Oil the
next day, a long table war-spread in the aisle
of the church, and, after aAermon by the pan
ror, all who ha I obtained tokens-look seats
around it.—Just here I \«k to be indulged,
once more, in a digress’*r>a
It appears to me raiTTer'/singular that Bap
lists, who insist so strenuously on a Ooii
formity to the example of Christ in all tniugs,
especially in the administration of the ordi
nance of baptis n, are not equally strict in
conforming to His example in administering
the Lord’s supper around a table. It appears
equally strange that Presbyterians, who are
SO careful to Conform to the example of the
Saviour m administering the supper, that,
when the number ol communicants require it,
they wdl spread the table a dozen times, and
consume half a day, or more, in administer
ing it, rather than allow it to be administered
to one seated elsewhere than at the table—
it appears strange, l say, that they should be
so regardless of the example ot the Saviour,
in administering baptism, as to substitute
sprinkling for immersion, and unconscious
bapes for penitent believers. I pass no oen
sure upon them. To God they and we must
all give account in the great judgment day.
I ought to add, perhaps, that in alluding to
the practice prevalent among Presbyterians,
I have had in my mind’s eye, churches of
their order in Virginia that glory in tracing a
lineal descent from Johu Calvin, through
John Knox and the “Kirk of Scotland.’ -
As to the question of conformity or non
conformity to the example of Christ in
administering the supper, the Independent
Presbyterian church of M ■ •■■■, of which some
will have it I was burn a meruoer,—seem to
be like the Laodicean*, “neither cold nor
hot,” or, —to borrow a simile from a profane
author,—“like an afterdinner’s sleep, dream
mg on both.” It caused a table to be spread
but once. Around it all its higher class mem
bers, and as many of its lower class as could
be accommodated, took their seats. Such -as
could not be accommodated at the table took
their seats in adjacent pews, and were waited
upon after those at the table had been served.
Such a praotice appears to me very ambig
uous ; and, as far as it is ambiguous, it must
be reprehensible. The members of that
church would find it difficult, I imagine, to
answer the question, if asked in reference to
their practice: Whose superscription hath
it, Christ’s or carnal policy’s? If the exam
ple of the Saviour is binding or. one, it is bind*
ing on all. If it is the duty of one to partake
of the supper at a table, it is the duty of all
to do so. If the example of tbe Saviour does
not impose the duty to partake of the supper
at a table, the spreading of one is an act of
supererogation, and savors of ostentation.
It, moreover, imposes unnecessary labor on
the deacons on the Lord’s day, and the going
to arid from the table produces more or less
of confU'ion in the house of God, and diverts
the mind from the gospel truths which had
been presented fur its consideration. But 1
return to my narrative.
1 took my seat with others at the table.
An elder, or deacon, cirne around to see tnat
no stray sheep had entered the fold and min
gled with the iambs whom the great Sh-pherd
had caused to tie gathered, that He might teed
them fmm His love. 118 gathered up the
tokens, and afterwards passed around the
plate that contained the bread, the emblem ol
a Saviour’s broken body. 1 partook thereof,
but no sooner bad 1 done so ttian i felt eon
demned. 1 had obtained a token from my
brother, which entitled me to alini&sion into
the church and to a participation with her in
all the privileges and ordinance of the gos
pel, but 1 had neglected to obtain from the
Saviour a token of Ilis love shed abroad in
my heart—a token absolutely necessary to
insure admission to heaven, or a participation
in the j iys of salvation even here on earth—
the only token which cau survive the day
when, on ojr world,
‘‘By sin polluted and by God accureed.
Fierce a-uaee of reugeeuoe ihnU from bttrat,
and when
“Earth’s millions startled from their ffi-long sleep,
Shall see tae world on tire, aud Wail sad Weep."
All other tokens, by men imparted, are des
tined to be utterly consumed, amid the awful
conflagration that is to precede the great j tdg
meat day. Tfle love of Jesus—the only pa»e-
port to heaven—l had not. I turned my eyes
within, more searchingly than had ever oe
fore done, and discovered what had hitherto
been hid from them: that I had been in
fluenced, in the step I had taken, by a purely
selfish spirit., and not by the love of Jesus.
My object had been, not to evince my love of
Him, but merely to avert the wrath of God
aud save my soul! I had exercised faith, but
it was faith in my brother’s word, not in the
Saviour’s. Instead of joy, I found grief. I
had experienced a calm after my conversation
with my brother, the day before, but, alas !
it was a calm that served only as a precursor
to a storm more violent than any through
which I had previously passed. I was in the
predicament of the man at the marriage feast,
to whom the question was addressed, “What
dost lh'>u here, not having «>n the wedding
garment?” I was dumb—lcould not answer
it. My soul was shrouded in darkness so
dense that it seemed no ray of hope could
penetrate it. To sum up all in one word, I
was miserable —u miserable sinner.
The question occurred, What shall I do?
Conscience replied, Confess your sins and
plead for mercy at the feet of Jesus. Shame
t false shame—held me back. My native
diffiiecoe, which had prevented my perform
mg many a good act, and my innate obstinacy,
which had impelled me onward in many an
evil course, both protested against the good
counsel of conscience. They prevailed. I
shut my eyes to the consequences, and lived,
between two and three years, the life of—a
hypocrite! but—(thanks to God—) not a
contented one. The desire to become a true
Christian, enkindled in my breast a short
time after my arrival at college, as alrealy
-tated, was, 1 verily believe, enkindled by the
Holy Spirit, and, therefore, neither the tem
pests that beat upon me, nor the waves of sor
sow that rolled over me, could ever extinguish
it; for
“God’s Holj Spirit never leaves undone
The Work which He iu mercy has begun."
I suppose my walk in life appeared to the
world as irreproachable as that of any mem
ber of the church. I was as observant of the
outward forms of religion as any, as regular
in the discharge of my religious duty as any,
as decorous in my general deportment as any,
as zealous an advocate of Cnristianity as any,
and, probably, as regular a reader of the
Bible as any, certainly a more regular reader
of it than many professors were then or are
now. Notwithstanding ail this, I was an un
converted man. My true character was in
scribed in luminous capitals, not on my fore
head, to be read of all men, as was Cain’s, but
on iny conscience, to be read of God and my
self. It was as legible fn the darkest night
as in a summer’s cloudless noonday. Turn
where I would, I read that inscription, Ilrpo
Critb! I read it on my way to our morning
and evening vespers; I read it in my room;
I read it when I entered the sanctuary ; l read
it whenever I attempted to perform a religious
duty ; and ever did it appear to me most lu
minous when l attempted to lift up my eyes
and voice to Heaven and cry for mercy.
Bj it remembered, that I introduced thi
narrative of my own experience to illustrate
and corroborate the truth tiught in the Scrip
lures: that one may relbrm his conduct—
may have the form of godliness and yet be
destitute of the spirit of godliness—unrenewed
in heart —a stranger to the converting grac
wf >' ;.i, and to the puw.i of gisdliW**.
The iflan who reforms himself is like a still
born child. He may have all the parts (or
members) of the body that a living child, or
even a man in his maturity, has, but, untd
the H ly Spirit quickens him—breathes in
him the breath of life eleinal—he remain*
dead—“dead iu trespas*es and in sin*,” and,
unless quickened by the Spirit, must soon be
come a mass of corruption, never a living soul
NEVER. AbiUEL NeKoDA.
Christ Coming in His Kingdom.
REPLV Xu DR. HLLLYER NO V.
‘And they shall see the Son of man, com
ing in the clouds of heaven with power and
great glory.’ “To refer,” says brother H.,
“ ihese words to the second coming of Christ
at the day of judgment, would be a violent
sundering of the verse from its connections.
If all that goes before finds a satisfactory ap
plication in the destruction of Jerusalem, and
the dispersion of its people, it would seem
that this verse applies to the same things.
True, the language is boldly figurative,” die.
We would suggest, suspiciously so. Even
brother H. must have had some misgivings
that the figure is too bold. Nor can I agree
with brother H., “ that to apply these words,”
‘Shall see the Son of man corning on the
o'ouds with power and great glory,’ to the
second coming of Christ, would be a violent
sundering of the verse from its connections;”
but am constrained to believe that the appli
cation of it to the destruction of Jerusalem,
is utterly contrary to a common sense view
of the verse, and falls, in grandeur and glory,
immeasurably below what the language man
ifestly teaches. We would remind, and if
possible, impress upon the reader, what was
said, in the first number, of the Coming—
parousia, of the Son of man. The idea of
presence is absolutely required. This was
the ooming about which the disciples asked
Christ—for the whole conception of the king
dom was in the idea of His presence to ad
minister its affairs; and to which He shaped
His answer, as may be seen in the 37th and
39th verses ot the 24th ohap. Matt., where
the Coming occurs in the substantive form.
The term ‘‘great glory,” besides, is whol'y
at variance with the destruction of Jerusalem,
and cannot, without violence, be thus applied.
By comparing the oir.-umstances of Christ’s
cojning as given in Acts i: 9-11, 1 Thess.
iv : 7, and Rev. i: 7, the meaning of which
none can doubt, it will be seen that these
agree with what is said of the ooming of
Christ in the several Evangelists.
it may be asked, how can this verse be ap
plied to the destruction of Jerusalem, when
it is positively declared by Cnrist that this
coining in great glory was after the destruc
tion of the city, and, as we have seen from
Luke xxi: 24, after Jerusalem ceases to be
trodden down, and “ the time? of the Gen
tiles be fulfilled;” which has not yet come t<»
pass? Surely it cannot be that this coming
of Christ has yet transpired.
Moreover, this coining is to be visible, for
it is unequivocally declared that they “shall
see the Son of man c iming in the clouds,”
etc. We have seen that this ooming was
personal, and, therefore must be visible.
If this does not mean the personal, visible
coming of Cnrist, may not the remark be
ventured, that inspiration has failed to make
out the case ?
What a stretch of the imagination to have
the Christians of Koine in “ beholding the
long procession of captives as they were
dragged in triumph through the streets of the
city, see by the eye of taith, far above the
dust and confusion of the vast procession, the
form of the S>n of Cod in the clouds of
heaven, as the real and etficieut agent in the
scene which was passing before them ?” So
it seems that Christ came to Rome as well as
to the destruction of Jerusalem.
W« doubt not the triumphal arch decreed
Titus, upon theceutreof which was inscribed,
“Judea Uapta,” and also upon the coin of
Vespasian, told the story of Jerusalem, and
the fulfillment of Christ’s prophecy concern
ing its destruction, but not Chri*t's coming.
When He comes it will not be needed to raise
an arch «.f triumph, of masonry, and place a
human inscription up>>n it, n<»r enstamp gov
er iin*mt co nto tell of it. Every eye shall
se Him, the vault of the skies, radiant with
light, 'i|l ha Hi* triumphal arch, His reti
nue the heavenly hosts an! all the saints whom
He shall bring wiih Him, and His captive
train, desp died principalities and powers, of
whom He will make a show, openly tri
umphing over them. Brother H., it would
seem, has Christ almost weary of the work
of jucLmeiit. “Tne Saviour’s triumph ovu
rebellious Israel having been achieved, other
like events were to follow ; for He must reigi
till all enemies are subdued under His f’eer. ’
It would have been well for brother H. to
have told the reader what “events” these
were, aud where recorded.
“ Bu‘, having accomplished Ilis purpose in
the case of Jerusalem, He pauses in the ad
ministration if His judgments. He keeps
back for a time the lightning’s volley, anu
permits the clouds lodisiill their inercie* over
the earth. This is beautifully indicated in
the next verse:’’ ‘He shall send forth Hi.*
angels with the great sound of a trumpet, and
gather Ilis elect from the four winds, from
one end of heaven to the other.’ The term
angel is sometimes used to denote Christ’*
ministers. The trumpet is the metaphorica'
term to denote the proclamation of the gos
pel. Hence the verse figuratively foretell.*
the success of the gospel iu the age following
the fall of Jerusalem, and history confirm*
its truth. For it is a fact that the preached
gospel was carried wiih amazing rapidity
overall the nations of the then known world.”
Certainly here is “ boldness of figure ” enough
to satisfy the warmest advocates of brother
H.’s theory, and though their name may be
legion, the interpretation is far-fetched, and
does neither accord with the plain statements
of the text, nor the “ history ” in the case.
The period of the gospel’s grea'est success,
antedates the fall of Jerusalem, and the very
Scripiure upon which the statement last
quoted from brother 11. is founded, was writ
ten and fulfilled, and even Paul—the writer
— dead, before Jerusalem was destroyed.
See to what contradictions fal-e theories ot
interpretation will lead. The sending forth
of the angels by the Son of man at Ilis
coming, in this place, agrees striotly—indeed
is the very language used in other places con
cerning the same event. In the parable ol
the tares it is said : “ Ga'her up first the tares,
and bind them in bundles to burn them;
but gather the wheat into my barn.” And
then in the explanation it is declared :
“The harvest is the end of the world—ige,
and the reapers are the angels. . . Tne Son
of man will send forth His angels, and the)
will gather out of His king lorn,” etc. Again
the p irable of the n t: “So will it be in the
end of the world—ago. The ungels will go
forth and separate the wicked from among
the just.” Before this, it is said “ the good
are gathered into vessels" These parallel*
cannot be applie J t > the destruction of Jeru
salem, for no such event to ,k place at that
tune as are declared to occur at the “end ot
the. nge." In 1 Cor. xv: 32, the following
language is used: “ For the trumpet will
sound, and the dead will be raised ineorrupt
ib e," etc. 1 Th°ss. iv: 16, “Because t hi-
L rd Himself will descend fj-om heaven with
a shout, with the voice' of the archangel, and
with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ
will first rise.” Ctn poor Jerusalem be tor
tured out of these Scriptures? Here is the
“sound of the trumpet,” and my brother
will not dispute that this is the actual real,
literal coming of the Lord Himself, and no
mistake; ami yet it is very like what is said
iu Mitt,, and is, beyond and *ubt, the sane
event. This is natural and easv. but the
other view is far fetched and forced.
But if this be not satisfactory, there is an
other idea, and possibly the true'one; cer
tainly, it is entitled to consideration. We
mean, that the “elect” may be the Jewish
people, who are to be gathered from the four
winds, from one end of heaven to the other,
and reestablished in their covenant laud.
Whoever doubts this, let him study especial
l y the prophecies of I-aiah, Ezekiel and Zech
ariah, and if the eye be not tilled with such
“bold” and enormous “figures” as to shut
out everything else, the conviction of this
truth will be forced upon you. It may be
that these are the “fleet" ones who are to
be “gathered together.” Scriptures on this
point, could be piled up until the reader
would become weary. We have not the time
or room to do it here. They are to be Chris
tianized also, and in this respect are the
“elect,” as well as those who are gathered
from among the Gentiles. This is taught in
.Rom. xi chap., where it will be found there
is no po-sibility to apply the expressions to
the “Christian church,” as is commonly
done; but means the Jews in despite of all the
“figures” and tortures with which the lan
guage is plied Gho. F. Cooper.
Americas, March 15 th.
Response to some Queries.
Brethnn Brewer and Boykin have address
ed me some questions, which f, perhaps, in
deference to those brethren, ought to answer,
as best I can. Any reluctance I feel is on ac
count of the frequency with which 1 have lately
sought a place in the columns of the paper.
Promising to propose such a thing less fre
quently herea'ter, I a-k indulgence once more.
Brother Brewer says: “A short time since,
Isa van article from the pen of brother
Teague, in your paper, in which he declared
the infallibility of the apostles as teachers. If
it is meant by the expressian that they did
not err in the inspired epistles, or materially
err in their public instructions, then l concur
with brother Teague.”
“AU Scripture is given by inspiration of
God,” whether through the instrumentality of
“holy men of old, who spoke as they were
moved by the Holy Ghost,” or by apostles,
who spoke “not in the words which man’s
wisdom teacheih, but which the Holy Ghost
te&cheih.” It follows that the apostles did
not •‘materially” err, or err at all, whether in
their “ public” or private “ instructions,” an
apostles. If at any time betrayed by the
weakness of the flesh, as in the case of Peter
at Antioch, who was guilty of “dissimulation,”
the piovidence of God male it appear,in some
unmistakable way, that the flesh was warping
the spirit, or that i he heaven-accredited teacher
“knew and approved the better course the
worse pursuing;” or however, left him not to
instil error and mislead his hearers. For th -
reat, “men of like passions” with ourselves, I
kno# not how often or how far Peter and
Paul may have erred, the one twice, at least,
afraid of the face of man, the other influenced
as well by the “ law of the flesh,” as by the
“law of the Spirit.” Human nature walks in
the path of rectitude only as upheld by the
power ol God—is wise in reference to heav
euly things only as illumined from on high—
never impeccaole in and of itself. The Holy
Spirit exercised such supervision over the
apostles as to secure to us, in their writings,
truth uiimixed with error. This must suffice
as the best answer 1 can give to brother Brew
er’s preliminary paragraph. The questions
directly propounded are all, in the nature ot
supposed instance, illustrative of my misap
prehension of the doctrine of inspiration, anU
would, therefore, lead, if di-cussed, aside from
the tenor of the papers referred to in them.
WHOLE NO. 24 ( -3.
My brother will excuse me for an indUposi
tion just now to discus-* incidents' tooios. «
1. Brother Boykin asks ine “to define more
distinctly and fully the duties of those elders
who do not ‘labor in word or doctrine.' ” I do
not know that ( can. Th a y that “rule well”
must, I suppose, counsel, advise, exhort, gor
ern, administer discipline, control the bodies
they are connected with, in some sort, subs
ject, however, to the revision of the whole
church. I stated myself, before, ir. the words
hat the “eldership appear ordinarily to have
idministered discipline, subject to appeal to
the church as a whole.” Nor did I conclude
that they did not at all “labor in word and
locirine.” I suppose that in the mass of cases,
lifferences, questions, would he satisfactorily
lisposed of, by a grave body selected lor their
special qualifications, without farther trouble.
2. “Are those who do ‘labor in the word
tnd doctrine’ merely coadjutors of the elders,
>r pastors in chief, and subordinate to him, or
Jo all rank the same?”
It is not clear to my mind that there was a
‘pastor in chief,” or by distinction in any
sense, in all cases. The elders of the church
it Ephesus were all pastors or bishops as well
—no-distinction is indicated. The elders of
•ach church appear to have been equals in
office, and in the responsibilities of govern*
nent. If, in addition to governing or “ruling”
capacity,they had preeminent gifts for preach
ug, thut appears to have been ground, not for
superior official, but personal consideration.
3. There is no iutimatiou of the setting
ipart of deaconesses “ by prayer and the im
position of hands,” or other ceremony of de
signation. We are left to suppose their ap
pointment was by some less formal means, if
indeed the churches did constantly or occa
sionally designate those whom they approved
for this office.
4. “If a person professing faith in Christ is
baptized, have we any right to ask whether
he believes in election, predestination, final
perseverance, or any of the doctrines held by
us?”
1 suppose no Baptist church thinks of ap
proving a candi late for baptism who does not
arfbrd satisfiotiory evidence that he under
stands what is meant in their essential fea
tures by “repentance toward God and laith to
ward our Lord Jesus Christ,” and who does
not profess to have experienced these graces.
How clear the views of these indispensable
•lootrines must be, is a difficult question,
about which every conscientious chinch and
pastor must often have felt very solemn.
After premising thus much, I have to say,
that I do not see how we can, rationally, re
quire the candidate to subscribe an elaborate
creed, embracing in epitome a full length
scheme of theology, at his entrance on the
Christian life. It must often be imp<*s|ible
tor him to know what he is doing it subjected
to the requirement. Such a practio* has some
times reminded me of the custom of requir*
mg candid .tea for admission into the Univer
sities of Oxford and Cambridge, to subscribe
the XXXIX Articles. Ido not perceive that
this latter custom is more objectionable than
the former. In neither case o mid such act,
on the part of the candidate, be an intelligent
one. So soon as one understands what God’s
word says on any article of faith, that is an
end of all controversy, with ingenuous minds.
If it be said that the candidate ought to be
kept waiting umill be can be instructed hi all
the articles of our faith, atier the inuiner of
the catechumens of the earlier centuries, I re
ply, that that was not the practice ot apos
tolic times.
5. “Are all the churches to be regarded as
iinscriptural and in violation of New Testa
m -nt order that are not organiz and and main
tained upon the principles laid down by
Him 1”
l suppose a body, though imperfect, very
in pert* ot, may be a church. The chuiches
for whom Paul and Barn *b is ordained elders
on visiting them sometime after th« ir origi
nal organization, had had no elders, it would
seem, up to that time. They were, neverthe
less, churches already. The Curmtliian church
shamefully abused the solemn ordinance ot the
supper, y et Paul still recognizes it as a church.
Tnere were Christians enough in it, there was
order enough in it, to preserve a title to the
name. Some of the seven churches of Asia
were very defective in purity of faith and
Christian conduct, if not in reference to church
order, and yet the Saviour addresses them as
His chuiches. The same appears true of the
body or bodies to whom the epistle to the
Hebrews was addressed. Conybeare and
Howson pertinently remark, 1 apprehend, that
we are not to think of the primitive churches
as “associations of angels.” On such accounts
as these, I have never been disposed to
deny church character to many Pedobaptist
Churches, albeit, quite irregular in my view.
I have reoognized the exhibition of many
graces in many of them. I cannot, however,
give my consent to fraternize with them when
l have reason to believe my conduct would
be construed into connivance at unscriptural
practices. Neither can Ibe persuaded to fra
ternize with a Baptist church when the same
danger exists, or with a Baptist minister.
E. B. Tkaocb.
“I Will Give as Much as ‘ William?.’”
And Williams, who is thus chosen as the
standard of contribution, is known to give as
little as any member of the congregation ;
so that this is an excellent mode of refusing
some charitable design, and at the same lime
retaining the credit of liberality. But who
is Williams, that you adhere so closely to
him? Christ says we are to give from self
denying ability, and not according to the
deeds of others. Besides, you do not under
stand his accounts. He may reafly be una
ble to give half as much as you think he
should, and he may have perfectly satisfactory
reasons for his conduct, which he does not
think it necessary to disclose. Aud suppos
ing him to give far less than his ability : if
you insist ou reaching his standard of contri
bution, you must also expect to reach his
standard of contractedness, anil consequently
be exposed, as he is, to God’s displeasure.
No; let Williams do as he pleases, do you
act as responsible for yourself to God. As
it is, when A breaks his arm, B looks around
to notice how much C wtll give, thus showing
a much more liberal disposition with his
neighbor’s money than with his own: thus
almost every purse is closed until C opens
his, and consequently benevolent enterprises
languish and sometimes die, because one
stauds looking at another. However, the
time is soon coining when you must surren
der every thing, and you would do well “to
make to yourselves friends of the unrighteous
mammon, that when ye fail they may receive
you into everlasting habitations.”
Choirs.— The Occident says: “ Choirs are
a chronic disease. Tney remind us of Gen
eral C.’s remark upou the ministers of a cer
tain church. * When he heard A., he thought
B. was the better preacher; but when he
heard 8., then he preferred A.’ When we
hear a choir, we generally prefer congrega
tional singing ; but when we hear the cougie
gatiou sing, then we prefer the ot oir.
Love (?)—Uue of the Alex uiders used to
say to his class at Prmcetou : “ Never seek
controversy with the Baptists—love them to
death;” and some Baptists have fallen into
tha snare.