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CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SOUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST.
VOL. 49-NO. 28. {s3 00 HEAR.} FRANKLIN PRINTING HOUSE, ATLANTA, GA., THURSDAY, JULY 21, 1870. Isß 001 YEAR. 1 WHOLE NO. 2498.
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So Near and yet so Far.
Man dvrellg apart, though not alone.
He walks among his peers unread ;
The best of thoughts which he hath knowD,
For lack ot listeuers are not said.
Yet dreaming on earth’s clustered isles.
He saiih, ** They dwell not lone like men,
Forgetful that their sunflecked smiles
Flash far beyond each other’s keu."
He looks on God’s eternal suns
That sprinkle the celestial blue.
And saith, “ Ah, happy shining ones,
I would that men were grouped like you I”
Yet this is sure, the loveliest star
That clustered with its peers we see,
Only because from us so far.
Doth uear its fellows seem to be.
—Jean Ingelow.
The Seven Ordained by the Apostles In the
Church at Jerusalem. Acts vi.—Questions:
Second Series.
Ist. Is the word Deacon merely the repre
sentative, in English, of the Greek word dia
konos, or is it a translation of it? And if its
representative, can it by any possibility, pos
sess greater extent of meaning than dia konos,
which it represents —that is, must it not al
was be used to mean just what diakonos does,
nothing more, nothing less?
2nd. If any Greek word in the New Testa
ment, when translated into English, is univer
sally rendered by such words in our language
as signify the same thing, or fully harmonize
in meaning, does not that fact fix its meaning?
And is there any law of language, either
Greek or English, by which that word can be
made to signify another and a different thing ?
3i-d. Does not diakonos, primarily and only,
signify, in our language, minister or servant,
ineveYy instance in the New Testament where
it is translated, and do not these two terms
harmonize in meaning? For is not every min
ister, of either church or state, its servant, and
every servant of either, its minister in the
same sense ? Or, as Webster has it, are they
not “ equivalents ?”
4th. If deacon is not a translation of the
Greek word diakonos , does it not follow that
it is either a corruption of it, as the word
bishop is of the Greek word episcopos, or, that
it is m purely an Anglicism of it as baptism
is of the Greek word baplisma ?
sth. Moreover, if deacon is either a cor
ruption or an Anglicism of diakonos, does it
not follow that in either case it is strictly and
only a representative of its Greek original,
and as such, cannot mean more nor less than
it does, viz., minister or servant?
Gill. Were not the“ Seven,” as also all the
apostles, evangelists, elders, etc., ministers or
servants of the church? And is not apostle,
evangelist, elder, the title of each of the last
three respectively ; And do we not, by our
usaore, recognize deacon as the title ot the
“ Seven ?”
7th. Is not minister one thing, and his title
another and different thing ? For instance,
if I use the word minister in your hearing and
do li<it mention his title, nor use any words
so descriptive of his title that you could learn
it therefrom, could you tell whyther the min
ister spoken of is Secretary or State or any
other minister of government, or whether it
is apostle, one of the “Seven,” or any other
minister of the church? Does it not require
another and a different word from minister to
define its title, and some times several words ?
bth. If tfie premises and conclusions sug
gested in the first five questions of this series
are true, do they not show conclusively that
deacon is not only not a translation ot diako
nos, but that it must be either a corruption,
or an Anglicism of it, and therefore only
its representative in our language; and
that, whether it is a corruption or an Angli
cism of it, it must mean just what its original,
diakonos, does, viz., minister or servant?
Moreover, do they not as clearly show (upon
investigation of the meaning of diakonos, in
the New Testament,) that, in every instance
where it is translated, it signifies minister or
servant; that those two words harmonize in
meaning, and that, as a consequence, the
meaning, in English, of the Greek word dia
konos is established to be minister or servant,
and that it cannot be used to signify anything
else ?
9th. If the Greek of minister is diakonos,
and the English of diakonos is minister, are
they not strictly equivalents of each other,
equals in meaning? And if equals, can either
be allowed a greater latitude of meaning than
the other ?
10ih. If, therefore, minister and diakonos
are equals in meaning, and the word minister
cannot detine the title of any minister of its
genus, but always another word, and often
other words, are required to express it, or so
to describe it as that the title may be learned
from the description given, does it not follow
that diakonos, its Greek equivalent, cannot
define the title of any one of .the genus min
ister 1 ? (See question 7th.)
11th. If, then, diakonos cannot define the
title of any minister of its genus, is it not con
clusive ttiat the word deacon can not be
either a translation of diakonos, or the title ot
the “Seven?'' And yet, does not the word
deacon, as a name for their title, rest all its
claims upon diakonos?
Rkmakk. —If, in the discussion of this sub
ject. the views 1 have suggested in the above
stated questions should be sustained, in my
next series I will direct the discussion to the
consideration of “ Eider” as the scriptural
title of the “Seven,” and which, I think, is
tounded on scriptural evidence not so doubtful,
by tar, as that upon which rest the claims of
Deacon to that title.
For the benefit of brethren who may wish
to. examine the passages in the Testament in
which diakonos occurs, I cite them : Diakonos
occurs 27 times in the New Testament, to
wit: Pnii. 1 : 1 ; 1 Tim. iii: 8, 10, 12, 13, it
is rendered deacon, or rather Anglicised.
Translated servant three times, viz: Mat. XXii:
13, xxiii, 11 : John xii : 20. Translated nine
teen times minister, to wit: Mat. xx ;26 ;
Mark x : 43 ; twice in liom., xiii; 4 ; xv :8;
Gal. ii :17 ; Eph. iii: 7; Col. 1: 7, 23, 25 ;
Col. iv : 7, 17; Thes. iii :2 ; Tim. iv: 6; l Cor.
iii :5; it Cor. iii: 5; 2 Cor. iii: 6; v: 4; xi:
15, 23. In Mat. xxii : 13, it is applied to the
king’s servants, as olfieers of the law. In
Rom. iv: 13, twice to ministers of the Roman
government; Rom. xv: 8, and Gal, ii; 17 to
Christ as a minister; 2 Cor. xi: 15 td the
ministers of Satan ; 33d verse ot same chap
ter to false apostles; in other passages, to
Paul, Epaphras, Tychicus, Archippus and
Ttmoiheus; and in other passages above
ciied, to oilier ministers of Christ; and in
John xii: 26, its use shows that it applies to
any one that serves Christ. Deacon.
Jane SOth, IS7O.
The word deacon, in our version of the New
Testament, is simply the Greek word Anglicized
(or Englished.) Os course, when transferred to
this version, it can have no meaning except that
which it bears in the original. The question
which our correspondent raises, then, is, Whether,
in the original, diakonos has, or can have, a two
fold meaning—one general, and the other specific.
We think it can have. We think it has. This
is the verdict of our translators, as shown by the
fact that they sometimes translate and sometimes
transfer the word. They transfer it where they
regard the meaning as specific, and translate it
where they regard the meaning as general.
Take a parallel case by way of illustration.
Apostolos has the general meaning of messenger,
It is applied to Christ, as the messenger of the
Father; and to Epaphroditus and certain associ
ates of Paul, as messengers of the churches. And
yet, when our Saviour chose the Twelve to a spe
cial office, ‘He named them apostles' (Luke vi;
13.) He clothed the word with a specific mean
ing, as the distinctive title of those who held that
office. It was used afterward, alike in the old
sense and the new ; and without ambiguity—since
the connection showed which of the two senses it
was designed, in each instance, to bear.
Presbuteros, (elder,) has a like latitude of sig
nification. The inspired writers employ it, “with
reference sometimes to persons advanced in age,
sometimes to Old Testament saints, sometimes to
a class of officers in the Jewish sanhedrim, some
times to certain heavenly ones whom John saw in
vision, sometimes to the apostles.” And yet, in
the hands of these writers, it serves to designate
office-bearers in the Christian church; and office
bearers of a precise and definite rank —for they
are identified-with “bishops,” and thus pointed
out as the “ pastors and teachers ” of the flock of
Christ.
In like manner, diakonos, in its broadest scope,
means servant. It is used in the New Testament
“in relation to table servants, to family servants,
to agents in the employ of another as his servants,
to magistrates as the servants of God, to the apos
tles and their fellow laborers as servants of Christ
and of the gospel.” In this general import, it ad
mits of application wherever service is rendered,
whether officially or unofficially, whether in tem
poral or spiritual affairs ; nor is the application
vague or doubtful, as thesurroundings of the word,
in every case, indicate the kind of service referred
to. Now, as was true of presbuteros, in one in
stance, and of apostolos, in another, why might
not diakonos receive a specific meaning, and
serve to denote an office-holder of a particular
class—a servant of the church in secular things
one having in charge its money and alms ?
• There was clearly this specific use of the word.
Paul, in his letter to the Pnilippians, distinguish
es “the saints in Christ Jesus,” the body of the
church, from the office holders; and this genus—
the office holders—he distributes into two species
—bishops (or superintendents) and deacons (or
servants.) Let us apply here, then, two logical
laws controlling distribution, or the partition of
the whole into the parts that compose it. One
law is, that the parts taken together must make
up the whole: and this compels the conclusion
that there were no officers in the church except of
these two species. The other law is, that no one
of the parts must include the other and, of itself,
make up the whole: from which it follows that
bishops and deacons were used as titles of separate
species of officers—that deacons was the name of
one species alone, not of the entire genus. We
find, accordingly, in Paul’s instructions to Timo
thy, that after defining the qualifications of bishops,
(as one species'of officers.) he proceeds to define
the qualifications of deacons (as an’other species)
—which marks a distinction of offices and estab
lishes the specific import of both titles.
The appointment of the Seven grew out of the
murmuring among the Grecian disciples, that their
widows were neglected in the daily ministration,
( diakonia, deaconizing.) The apostles, feeling
that it was not reasonable, on their part, to leave
their higher functions and serve (diakoneo, d.ea
conize) tables, constituted a class of officers to
perform this lower work. Their own purpose,
personally, was, to give themselves continually
to prayer and to the ministry ( diakonia , dea
conizing) of the Word. Here were two dea
conizings—two forms of official service, Calling
for two classes of servants. It was natural, when
these two classes were appointed in the church,
that they should be distinguished from each other
by separate titles. One class was entrusted with
the deaconizing in the matter of the Word—in
spiritual affairs; .but the Word rules, and those
whose office it is to declare the Word became so
far forth rulers; and this class, therefore, natu
rally took a title which involved the idea of over
sight, the idea of ruling, (in this case a ruling
through the Word,) —a title which Greek converts
found in episcopos and Hebrew converts in pres
buteros. To the other class was left the deaconi
zing in tho matter of tables—in secular affairs ;
and since the declaration of the Word was no part
of the work to which that office called them, their
service was service only : hence, just as naturally,
this class fell heir, by way of distinction, to the
title diakonos, which characterized those who
bore it as officers without rule—as officers who
were only servants. The specific use of the title
for this class was not necessary at the time of the
creation of the office, as the class of officers with
rule through the Word had not then been ap
pointed, and there was, therefore, no need to dis
tinguish the two classes; but when the necessity
arose, it was met, as the usage of Paul evinces, in
the very natural way which we have pointed out.
“The Laborer is Worthy of His Hire.”—l.
These are the words of Jesus, (Luke x; 7,)
and they were used to His apostles when
they were about to go forth on their first
preaching tour. They are words applicable
to the case of preachers in ali ages. Os
course true ministers are meant—neither those
of Satan, nor those of men. When Jesus
sends men to preach, they are known by their
lives of holiness, consecration to his work,
and faithful endeavor to learn and to preach
all that He has commanded.
I. The PreTacher is a Laborer.
1. He is not made a fit expounder of the
gospel in a day. The time when men were
inspired to preach, as were the prophets and
first preachers of the gospel, has passed away.
Men now have to study in order to preach.
Study is a siow ivpik. Asa flower cannot
be forced to expand before the laws of naLure
bring it about, so the mind must have time
to expand under the appliances of study.
Time must be had for this process, and much
time, in most cases, is demanded. While
this culture of the mind is being obtained;
the man is a laborer, and such is the intensi
ty of his application, in many cases, that he
dies from the effects, or lays the foundation
of diseases from which he never recovers. Is
all this time worth nothing? Does the busi
ness man count his time as worthless? Will
the clerk spend ten years in study attd in
practice under the master, and expect to re
alize no benefit from it afterward?
The professional man is willing to spend
years in study, but it is only from the hope
of after reward. When the physician rises
to the head of his profession, and enjoys a
large income, then he is repaid for his lost
time in earlier years. When the lawyer sits
in the senatorial chair, or fills his coffers with
immense sums in fees, he is reconciled to the
empty toils of his early manhood. But
without much time spent in preparing them
selves for their professions, the men could
never have been able to sit in the places of
distinction—never could have been rich and
honored. As with other professional
with the preacheP, time is demanded to fflt
him for his work. If he does not take that
time and use it well, he cannot be what he
should be, “a workman that needeth not to
be ashamed.”
2. As has already been intimated, study is
a severe toil. The common laborer of the
field or of the work bench who never read a
dozen books in his life, and who could not
make a speech in public if his being depend
ed on it, may look on a life of devotiou to
-books and to thought, as one of indolence.
He feels that Ac would have an easy time were
he to sit among books by the month. Let
such a man as this undertake to memorize
one page of a good author, and see how lyng it
will take him to do it. Let him assume the
task of originating out of his own brain one
page of sensible reading matter, properly
prepared for the printer, and he would find
the need of education before he was through
What mental labor means he would discover.
The truth is, the work of the hands is light
when compared with that of the head. The
former gives physical health and energy ; the
latter feebleness, disease and premature old
age. This is not always the case, but it is so
very often. Hundreds of healthful hearers
sit to hear the emaciated man of God. They
are well and he is sick, only because his work
is heavy and theirs light.
3. Thus far nothing has been said of the
physical labor of preaching. We now come
to that. After years spent in the culture ot
mind, and labor undergoue, such as the smith
or carpenter would not submit to, then comes
the specific work of delivering sermons. It
may be said that the preacher ought to be
calm in his pulpit efforts, and thus take care
of himself. Whatever may be his duty in
this regard, it is a known fact that he is not
commonly so, and it may be held that he
cannot always be so. It may, furthermore,
be assumed as a truth, that when preachers
become wholly calm in the pulpit, they had
as well cease to preach. The order to “ cry
aloud and spare not,” is from God to His
ministers, and is hardly reconcilable with
that calmness which leaves the preacher un
exhausted at the end of his sermon. But
this aside, we must look at the matter as it
is, and not as it should be. Asa fact, the
preacher is often worn out in the labors of
the pulpit. When away from the place of
meeting, especially in continued religious ex
ercises, his mind is busy on the subjects to
be developed, his sympathies are moved by
the situation of such as seek for light; he has
to move from place where duty calL; in
short, the whole man is sacrificed, to greater
or less extent, in the pressing duties of the
occasion. The attorney makes a great effort,
but his soul—his better nature —may have
nothing to do with it. lie speaks for glory
and for money. The labor as a consequence,
exhausts him little; the minister of God, on
the contrary, is so moved by the situation of
his hearers, that he would suffer enfeeble
mant, were he not to preach at all. As
it is, his soul and physical nature united
overpower and quite exhaust him. Labor
such as this has overthrown the health, and
been the means of shortening the lives of in
numerable ministers. Only preachers can
understand fully the truth respecting the sub
ject under discussion. - . r
11. The Preacher is Worthy of his Hire.
1. The Son of God says he is, and it must
be so. This is a sufficient reason for the
statement.
2. The facts we have mentioned concerning
the work of the preacher, go to show that he.
ought to be paid. No work in the universe
ought to go unpaid. And God has determined
that none shall. But, under this head let us
notice the value of the ministerial work as
compared with that of other professional
men.
It is higher than any other, being wholly,
when done aright, benevolent. Every pro
fessional man, the preacher excepted, works
for self, and hopes for a small reward, if not
for great prosperity. That the preacher, on
account of natural depravity, may have the
selfish element in his character to some ex
tent displayed, even in his duties, is admitted,
but the preacher, as he ought to be, is less
selfish in his pursuit than any other man.
By common consent, the world declares
that works of benevolence deserve admira
tion and reward. Hence a great man de
clared that if the modern missionary enter
prise had done nothing more than develop a
Judson , the time and money expended in the
scheme would not have been illy spent. In
accord with the same principle, the late Mr.
Peabody has left a name that the ages will
honor as widely as the English language is
spoken. If a man is honored for giving his
money to the poor, what should be his reward
when he gives himself ? But we will hasten
on to draw a contrast between the preacher’s
work and that of others. Let us suppose
that a teacher of science, possessed ot all
learning, and blessed with all the money
required, should undertake to educate the
children of the whole world. This mighty
task he fully perfects, so that not an un
lettered child is left on the globe. In ad
dition to this, the great teacher makes his
students of all countries as perfect in moral
deportment, as was the young man who came
to the Saviour desiring to know what good
thing he must do to inherit eternal life. A
benefactor such as this, would deserve the
reverence of all ages through all time. His
name should never perish. His worth would
be above all praise or reward.
Again, let us suppose that some physician
should arise, whose skill enabled him to cure
all diseases. Suppose he should ask little
for his services, only enough to feed and
clothe him, and should send his remedies to
every cornet of the earth, and absolutely
blot out disease, so that from the hour of in
fancy to that of death, no mortal should have
an ache or a pain, but ail should be well up
to the hour when old asje closed their eyes in
gentle, long repose. Os such a friend, who
could speak in terms sufficiently high? Who
could love him too much? Like the great
teacher, he must be honored—little less than
worshipped—through all ages.
Once more we make a supposition. This
world of ours, from time immemorial, has
been full of oppression and cruelty. Tears
of blood have been pressed from the veins of
crushed and murdered nations. In all places
the little are oppressed, and the grpaj; op*
pressors. This is the rule. Exceptions are rare.
Now let us suppose that some mighty patriot
should arise to put an end to all misrule
among men. Not in hostile array, but in
peaceful mode he reorganizes every govern
ment on earth, and leaves not an oppressor
in power, nor one who is oppressed under
power. Under his reign ML nations become
peaceful, prosperous and
als of Adam’s family are set free. More
than this, let us suppose that this legislator
shall so manage as to perpetuate this happy
state of things for ages. *What would the
millions of the oppressed say of such a ru
ler? How should his name be mentioned?
AH peoples, and nations, and tongues must
call him blessed. To the end of
ers to their sons must transmit his imperish
able fame.
But what have these—the teacher, physi-
cian, legislator— They have made men
happy here, and have done absolutely nothing
for their souls, or their future wellbeing.
Their happy world is Still exposed to the wrath
to come. In contrast frith their achievements,
let us notice the one work of the gospel min
ister. He may not bS able to raise a nation
from ignorance, to curtail bodily infirmities,
to lay the foundations fX government aright,
but he preaches “the everlasting gospel,”
God's instrumentality for the salvation of
souls. Let us suppose he spends his life in
this business, and proves the means of call
ing one soul —only one—from the way of
death to that of life/n§ has done a nobler
work—more permanent and more glorious—
than that of the three great philanthropists
mentioned. When their work has been con
sumed and forgotten,it may be, by all sub
ordinate intelligencies in the universe, that
one saved soul, more bright than all the stars
of heaven, will bloourMn the ever-increasing
felicity of the Divine Presence. And there,
too, in that happy, tyjagy land, will be the
minister who preached, the'truth to save that
soul. How great the privilege of saving one
soul! How full the rapture of the meeting
of that soul in glory ! How must it be with
those men of God who have called their hun
dreds or thousand to Christ! Better to
meet them in ha.-uteJ than be Napoleon in all
his glory throughout as'fendless reign. “ They
that turn many Jo righteousness shall shine
as the stars forever and ever.” But I wander.
Now, Christian, speak your mind. Do not
the men who are whining souls for God—do
they not deserve their hire? If they are the
best friends of the human race; if they are
doing, or are seeking to do more for their
feliowing beings than any others on earth, do
they not deserve their wages? If they are
doing work that wiA stand forever, should
their services be underrated ?
Cheerfulness Taught by Reason.
I think we are too r«s<ly with complaint
In this fair world ot b' •d’s. Had we no hope
Indeed, beyond the zenith and the slope
Os yon gray blank of we might be faint,
To muse upon eternity’s constraint
Round our aspirant s. uls. But since the scope
Must widen early, is it well to droop?
O pusillanimous heart, be comforted!
And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road,
Singing beside the heijjgi What it the bread
Be bitter in thine inn. and shoes unshod
To meet tne flints? At least it may be said,
“ Because the way is short, I thank thee, God I”
—Elizabeth Barrett Drowning.
Ought it to be so?
Some time since I visited the beautiful vil
lage ot L—. I was struck with the pleasant
appearance of things, fur it is a place where
nature has been propitious in preparing a
home for man. I went to the post office and
inquired of the master of the office how many
papers were taken at his post, and was pleased
to hear him say about sixty. I askedhow
many of these were; religious papers, and
was pained to hear hijfi answer, three; and,
upon further inquiry, was more pained to
learn that none of these were taken by Bap
tists. I asked w hether there were any Chris
tians there, and learned that in the suburbs
of the village there was a Baptist church
with a hundred members* Istood astonished !
I asked, do none of these take a religious pa
per? No, sir, was the cold reply, tasked
again, do none of these 4‘hurch members read
any paper? O yes. a'k'.’.ut, yi>e. “third ot thfe
papers, coming to the£ t ' .Tee J*re taken by them.
How strange that brethren will so act. 1
went to one of these Ufurch members and
asked, brother, don’t you want to subscribe
for a religious newspaper ? He replied that
he was too poor; but 4 found, on inquiry at
the office, that this very brother was taking
two political papers. Think of this, brethren,
as you read what I wSy: a Baptist brother
too poor to take a religious paper for himself
and family, but yet rich enough to take two
worldly papers! 1 cent not writing a fable;
lam stating a fact, A Baptist brother too
poor to take a religious paper, but rich enough
to take two worldly pipers! O! brethren,
brethren, this ought not to be so? What
does it look like? You are compelled to an
swer, that it very plainly sets forth the idea
that they are more interested in political
news than they are in the things which per
tain to the church of the “living God.” Such
brethren may deny that this is the logical
conclusion that must be reached in their case,
but what argument will they adduce to prove
their position? I ask for an aigument; in
the name of my Master, demand an answer.
No, brethren, no man will undertake an ar
gument of that sort. We read what we want
to read. If a mail refuse to read the Bible,
and instead thereof, reads Josephus, can he
prove that he loves the Bible more than Jo
sephus? No. -W.-a man refuses to read reli
gious papers, and reads instead thereof polit
ical papers, can he prove that he loves the
news of Zion more than the news o£ the
State? No. It is, brethren, clearly a want
of interest in the news of Zion that causes
us to refuse to support and read religious pa
pers; or, it is the result of some sort of
prejudice we have against “ larnin." If' it is
a want of interest' in the news of Zion that
causes it, we should be alarmed at our condi
tion, and pray the Lord to bring us into a
more pious frame. If it is our prejudice
against “ larnin ” that causes it, we know not
what to advise, unless we call upon all the
brethren to pray the Lord that He would in
duce by His Spirit ministers in those re
gions to preach the gospel in'tead of trying
to prejudice their flick against education.
This, you may say, was a sad state of
affairs at that village, of which we spoke.
True, it was; but it is equally true of many
villages all over our land. Talk about sup
porting our Mission Boards, while seven
tenths of the Baptists of the South do not
feel sufficient interest in religious news and
denominational enterprises to read a religious
newspaper! You bad as well talk about a
boy’s piogressing well in mathematics who
only has an imperfect knowledge of the mul
tiplication table. We mfiy sqpport the
Boards somv, but it will only be some, while
this state of affairs continue to exist.
Reader, let n>e ask you to ask your neigh
bor Baptist, who does not take a religious
paper, the following questions : Are you a
Christian ? He must answer, to say the least
of iit; that he hopes he is, for he is a member
of the Baptist church, and they dont receive
none into the church unless they think they
have been converted. Do you love the breth
ren and _ the news of Zion more than politi
cians and the news, of the world ? He must
say yes, J love the news of the church most.
Then whido y<>u take the Montgomery Ad-
World, Courier Journal, (or
whatever paper he is taking.) in preference to
the Index and South Western Baptist, The
Baptist, Texas Baptist Herald, Western Re
corder, Baptist Sentinel, etc.? Press the de
mand for an answer until you get it.
In conclusion, brethren, we must read or
we cannot be acquainted with the great inter
ests which we wish to further. There is no
practicable way to become intimate with our
great interests but by reading; and nearly
half the Baptists of the South are as ignorant
of the proceedings of the Southern Baptist
Convention, as 1 am of the Chinese worship.
You may say, “O, no, not so bad as that.”
I repeat, it is true; and if you insist, I can
and will present the proof that I am nut r»t«.
taken.
Then we must read. If you want your
Mission Boards to succeed as well as they
may, urge every missionary in the field, as
he goes, to insist upon the brethren to take a
paper. Let every preacher friendly to our
great denominational enterprise beg his peo
pie to read—let every layman who wishes to
banish local prejudice against our denomina
tional interests, beg the brethren to take a
paper, that they may see what other Baptists,
all otfer the land, think and say about mat
ters, and thpir prejudice will be broken down.
We are disposed, as human beings, to follow
the multitude. As Christians, we are told
that in the multitude of counsellors there is
safety. I know of no other way of breaking
dottn these local prejudices against our de
nominatianal enterprises, but by getting such
brethren to read, that they may see what the
multitude of Baptists say about it. _ There
fore we cannot do without the reiigfous news
paper, and we need not try. Let it die, and
all your enterprises will languish. The reli
gious press is a power, and the sooner we
learn it, the better for us.
J. P. SIIAPFER.
Lineville, Ala., June 24, 1870.
The Bundle of Wool.
The article, “A Peck rs Rye,” in the In
dpx of July 7, reminds me of an incident re
lated to me by the preacher to whom it oc
curred. Said preacher had been preaching
for some time for a church, apparently much
to the gratification of the members, but with
out compensation. On a certain occasion he
went from preaching to spend the night with
an old gentleman and lady, members of the
church, who were rich. Alter dinner, while
sitting by the fire, he saw, in an adjoining
room, the man and his wife at a desk, which
was open, engaged in very earnest conversa
tion, and casting frequent glances at him.
At once the idea was suggested that they
were intending to make him a contribution;
and as he was poor, and had a dependent
family, and moreover, felt that he had fairly
earned what they might propose to give hirn,
it was a very pleasant thought. After a
while the desk was closed, the parties separa
ted, and the old lady caine and took a seat
by the preacher,and addressing him in alow,
confidential tone, said, “ Brother K—, my
old man and I think you have been preaching
for us so long and so faithfully, that you ought
to have something for your trouble. We’ve
just been talking about it, and we’ve conclu
ded when we shear our sheep, we’ll give you
some wool to knit you a pair of socks.” The
poor preacher was dreadfully crestfallen, hav
ing hoped for a valuable gift of money. But
he made the best of it he could, and hoped
to hear no more of the matter. Not so.
Sheep shearing time carne, and one Saturday,
as the preacher entered the pulpit he saw in
tie comer, a small bundle. He felt sure it
was the wool, and determined at once that he
would evade its bestowal. So when services
were over he hurried to his horse, intending
to leave before the old lady could accost him.
He failed, for just as he mounted she came
running out of the house, and calling in a
loud voice, “ Brother K—, brother E—, stop !
You’ve left your wool, brother K—; you’ve
left your wool.” lie must needs pause, and
the old lady handed him a little parcel of un
washed wool, about sufficient for a pair of
socks. ■ * * *
* ■ The*Friend. •*
Mournful long I stood and lone,
Oft my deepest soul made moan;
H‘>w forsaken was my case,
Since I wou and so fain embrace
A friend,
And still bad none.
Ah I no, not one
Who iuved me truly.
Warm and quickly beat my heart
Oft for joy, and oft for smart,
Gladly would it overflow,
Share its pleasure and its woe
With a friend,
And still bad none.
All! no, not one
Who loved me truly.
Oft my tearful eyes around
Longing, searched, but no one found,
Who to know my heart was given;
And my prayers besieged high Heaven
For a friend;
Ah I but for one,
A faithful one,
To love me ever.
See! then from the heavenly land
Jesus came aud laid His hand
On my heart, which then grew still;
Peaceful thoughts my bosom fill
Os a friend.
The earth hath none
Such faithful one,
Who loves me ever.
Translated by Mrs. M. E. Anderson, from the Ger
man of Julius Pubst.
Female Education—l.
Female education is a subject that ought
surely to concern, more deeply than ever be
fore, the people of the South, as it is one
touching its immediate and vital interests. It
is one to which Southern women, 1 should
think, would especially give attention, since
they constitute that class who were the great
esi sufferers by the disastrous results of the
war.
One has but to take a sweeping survey of
the misery and demolition invasion left in
its track to realize that something ought to be
done, and that speedily, to lift the head of the
mourner, of the widow, of the orphan, of
the poverty stricken. Hundreds, in conse
quence of it, have filled untimely graves,
thousands survive but to eke out a miserable
existence —r*bt so much out of disinclination
to do, as out of inability to do.
Such a reverse was not anticipated, a few
short years ago, when perhaps many of the
victims returned from a fashionable boarding
school to gladden the hearth stone of home,
and to begin anew and untried life—a life of
leisure, luxury, fashion, display ; in a word,
what is known as a joyless life. Here her
progress in the practical part of the educa
tion, as peifect—or most likely imperfect—
as it might have been, was nipped in the germ.
L’he hours, weeks and years spent in equip
ping her for a brilliant debutante fete were
flung away in fashionable life. No stimulus
was offered to her still further improvement;
and, as education, unlike the sun, as centre
of the solar system, is not stationary, but
retrogressive, if not progressive, it must be
daily, and even hourly, fed, or it will be pre
cipitately dissipated upon the arid plains of a
burning desert.
It is remarkable, as well as lamentable, at
what rate it becomes fugitive when unguarded
and untended. A scholar may look for naught
but stagnation and utter destitution if he
uegleots it, The reflecting, in regarding one
whose name is inscribed on the “roll of
honor” of his alma mater, now impoverished
by consuming rust, experiences a bitter regret
that it was not either entirely dispensed with
or in the end made available.
How soon the young man resting on his
baccalaureate degree, whether conferred by
a Cambridge or an Oxford, I care not, will
show signs of mental idiooy ! He never
ceases to remind his hearers that he is a col
legian, but does not stoop to look back to
behold his laurels trailing in the dust for the
lack of culture. It this be true of youth
graduating under the most favorable auspices,
is there not some palliation in the crime of
the stupidity of the girl, who pass
ed from the college halls with more flippant
ornament than substantial education ?
Regarding from such a stand-point the I
tendency of abused educational interests I
and its ultimate consequences to the posses
sor — as we may see in innumerable instances
everywhere —it does seem that the South
would be impelled to an effort to join with
the schools a motive to higher attainments
than ever known before in any country. It
is unmistakable, written in living letters upon
its pages of gore and destruction.
An interest to educate did spring up at the
close of the war, coeval with the struggle to
reinstate lost fortunes, but to what extent it
continues lam not informed. I trust, how
ever, it is still alive, making its power felt in
the legislative halls (so called) even of the sev
eral States. To reach the masses, it must be
legislated upon, for private aid would be in
adequate to the demands. In New York city
—I am not sure it is so in other parts of the
State—it costs nothing but the time to obtain
an education—not so much as the expense of
books, for these are furnished; and besides,
oppoitunity is afforded to the ambitious to as
cend almost to the topmost round of a most
compeite and thorough scholarship. But this
is a digression from the main subject.
Female education is necessarily imperfect,
since it has been but a few years conceded
that woman should be educated at all. When
it began to agitate the public mind, it wa>
repeatedly asked, “ What can be the use oi
all this tomfoolery ? It will subserve her
nothing in her sphere. It will make her un
ruly r , ambitious, discontented. Un the whole,
it is better to keep her as slaves are kept —
ignorant.”
Knowledge then was reckoned, as in other
property, according to its money, value, and
not that it has a purpose, and that for every
human being, which is the systematic and har
monious development of his entire moral and
intellectual nature. All are born with germs
of faculties susceptible of the highest improve
ment, which can Le done in no other way
than by good, practical education.
The intellectual cultivation of girls, now
that it is agreed she shall receive instruction,
is regulated, not by any established order,
but by the whims of the fashion of the hour.
Its general character, however, is to get a su
perficial smattering of a few high-sounding
text books, aud much of the ornamental.
The poor, delicately-reared female bends
beneath the burden of French, La’in and
Greek Lexicons, a Euclid, Butler’s Analogy,
Karnes’ Criticism, music on the piano, music
on the harp, music on the guitar, vocal les
sons, drawing, painting in oil. pastel and
flower work, and embroidery. This is one
extreme, the most common, but there are
others, one of which I will mention : it is that
languages and mathematics —not liberal at
that—are, in order to gratify the folly of a
teacher or the ignorance of a board of trus
tees, allowed to absorb the time that ought
to be devoted to that indispensable and ines
timable portion of every person’s education,
male or female—the natural sciences. Can
one reject this and not feel a compunction of
conscience akin to that of prohibiting the
Bible being used in school? In a woman’s
education it should be begun with her first
lessons and continued through the last. The
retirement which her sex naturally forces her
to, demands it. In her seclusion, with this
book of nature intelligibly spread before her,
she will not feel so keenly the want of intel
lectual companionship ; but, Jbusy at her
work, she can at the same time hold sweet*
converse with the beauties of Him “who
made them all.”
Whether her studies be few or many, ap
propriate or inappropriate, well studied,
half studied or studied not at all, the over
strained creature is expected to keep on a
forced march, fight all her battles, to make
the conquest and return home flushed with
victory before shereaches the extreme old age
of sixteen. Then she is ready for a settle
ment.
Now she is to begin the career which her
whole life has been spent in preparing her
for, viz : to get a husband. It was pictured
to her as sortie fair Eden, with ivy bowers,
winding walks, sparkling fountains, singing
birds, fragrant woods, peopled with Cupids
ar.d good chances ; that her part of the labor
to perform would be to deck herself in her
most becoming robes,to walk forth on a stroll,
to be shot at, and to captivate and to bear off
her spoils with triumph.
Alas! too soon— aye, too late, she learns
that there is not a tnan for every woman, and
she withdraws from the field covered with
shame, overwhelmed with mortification and
disappointment, to pine over, if not to die
over, what was not her mistake, but the mis
take of over kind, inconsiderate friends. She
becomes the butt of ridicule—a privilege her
neighbors do not sparingly use. She gives
away to ennui, which is a living death ; she
seeks solitude, if not driven to that
of alt ills ,” the convent. If she, by dint of
further misfortune, is awakened to any inter
est, it is to discover that her education, neg
lected like her tinsel gauzes, is perishable,
and that she is left miserablysdestitute indeed ;
for all, at the close of her school days, had
been surrendered and sacrificed to the pursuit
of one object— a lost cause.
How different would it have been with her
had she been instructed as was her brother
at her side, to “seek truth and maintain it;
know evil and shun it; be, conscious of recti
tude and bear the world’s laugh ; feel your
own strength ; struggle to aspire and face the
battle of difficulties, dangers and temptations”
with a stout heart! Daughters “may be
resolute characters, but they must enforce
diffidence in conduct and opinion; they may
inspire generous and holy aims, but they must
beware ofkindling ambition ; they may train
the energy that overcomes difficulties, but
they must let the bold spirit and strong will
that generally accompany energy, to be con
tent with submission; they must despise the
world’s baseness and folly, but they must in
culcate deference to the world’s opinion ; they
may earnestly strive to train their spiritual
nature to the full development of all its pow
ers, which is its indefeasible right, but they
must fit the woman for a career of depen
dence, of narrowness and repressed action.”
If such an one should, in the event she did
not get married, become lifeless, hopeless,
is she not an object of compassion rather than
of oensure? Should impossibilities be ex
pected of such a frail mortal 1
If from the first she had been taught that
she is a responsible being, in the possession
of both physical and mental faculties, for the
proper cultivation and care of which she her
self was accountable before God, she would
then have have been fortified as man is to ac
cept any position with grace.
In the progress of her training, both educa
tional and domestic, she is repeatedly rer
minded that to be called learned, literary,
strong-minded, is masculine, and that she
must by all means shun the opprobrium, blue
stocking • that all this is distasteful to the
gentlemen, and makes them afraid of women.
Is not such teaching capable of disarming
the strongest muscular and intellectual ge
nius 1 So long as an educated woman is held
in such ill repute, and so long as dignity U
withheld from exertion on the part of wo
man, just so long will she he silly, weak
minded, fickle.
Is it right ? Is it right to set the plant to
growing, then suddenly withdraw from it all
nourishment —the light, the sun, the earth,
Uw rains, and dews, apd winds of heaven 1
This is what is done when a girl is carefully
educated, and then, on return from school,
robbed of all stimulus to the growth and ma
turity ot what was begun, viz : the expansion
of the mind into its fullest propot tious. Be
fore you charge her with feminine weakness,
pause to consider at whose door the sin lies.
Clembkha.
The Noble Nature.
It is nnt grrowirtg like a tree
In bulk, doth m<u> better be;
Or standing Img an oak, three hundred year, .
To fall a log at last, dry, bald and sere.
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in Mnv:
Although it fall and die that night,
It was the plant and fl over of lignt.
In small proportion* we just beauties see ;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
—Ben Johnson.
Smiles and Tears.
Both swords and guns are strong, no doubt,
And so are tongue and pen,
And so are sheaves of good bank-notes.
To sway the souls of men ;
But guns, and swords, and gold, and thought,
Thiugh mighty in their sphere,
Are often poorer than a smile,
Aud weaker tb tn a tear.
How Fortunes are Made.
There has always been in the human mind
a disposition to honor those possessed of
wealth, and of late years it has been quite
the fashion to revere those who, by their own
efforts, have accumulated fortunes. The first
of these feelings we regard as wholly unrea
sonable. The mere possession of wealth does
not argue any kind of merit. The veiiest
blockhead or villain might, by inheritance,
become possessed of a vast estate. That one
has accumulated a fortune does presuppose u
certain kind of merit; but if we examine the
question as to how these fortunes are made,
we will conclude that this merit is not of the
highest order. Few millionaires have attained
that position by means that would bear the
scrutiny of a rigid moralist, industry, so
briety, prudence and economy are assuredly
good qualities, and without all or mo»t of
these, the accumulation of property may be
deemed an impossibility. But these are often
found so intermixed with their kindred vices
that it is difficult to condemn the one and
commend the other. Frugality, with many,
takes the form of parsimony, *and foresight is
but too often a regard for one’s own interest
and an ignoring of the welfare of others.
This selfish disregard of others displays
it sell more strikingly in trade than in any
other business. VVe all know that those spec
ulations by which etiormous profits are some
times realized by a single transaction, are
made by taking advantage of the necessities"
of others. The financial operation which
pours half a miiliou into the coffers of some
already wealthy capitalist, entails suffering
on hundreds—it may be thousands. It is as
suredly not worthy of praise that in such
transactions capitalists have an eye to the
pecuniary benefit that shall accrue to them ;
that they never take into consideration the
fact which a li.tle. thought would make evi
dent, that their gain must be some other per
son’s loss.
Ol'couise we do not intend in this to in
clude all forms of speculation. There is, theo
retically, and we trust practically, such a thing
as legitimate trade, where no more than just*
compensation is sought for the timv, trouble
and risks. But jn these cases the profits are
small, and the accumulations slow. “A
princely fortune” may, after a time, be heaped
up by these gradual gains, as a continent may
be formed by the drifting sediment of streams;
and when men get rich in this way, they may
do so without entailing misfortunes upon
others. Coming in this way, wealth increases
the happiness of its possessor, and does not
diminish the happiness of those who do not
possess it.
The merciless selfishness of fortune seekers
may be seem more strikingly, perhaps* in
traders than in any other class ; but they are
by no means the only class in which it exists.
Very many of those who make haste to get
riches by other occupations are more than
half dishonest and wholly unjust. In farm
ing, many cheat their laborers, and force those
who court the field for crops, to endure cruel
privations that their own gains may be in
creased. The manufacturer not seldom takes
advantage of the necessities of the poor to
drive hard bargains, that make the poor
man’s bread harder to win. The moneyed
man, in whatever way he may use his money,
if his chief end be his own gain, will be very
apt to gain at the expense ot others. He will
regulate his conduct by maxims that seem
eminently wise, in a business point of view,
but which are sure to be harsh, and often
cruel. He will fail to notice, and, of course,
fail to care, what effect his schemes may have
upon others. Tne one question that he pro
pounds is, “ will they make money for him?”
and no motive of general benevolence is al
lowed to control either one or the other.
We fear that the moral influence ot money
making men is almost wholly bad. They
seem to think—and perhaps they are too near
right—that if they are only successful, the
manner in which they achieve success will
never be scrutinized, and hence are little scru
pulous. Some times they would seem anx
ious to atone for their ill means of getting by
spending it well. But let us be cautious here
in bestowing our laudations. If a man has
accumulated a fortune by fraud, and by
taking advantage of the necessities ot his fel
low-men, he should not screen himself from
our censure by bestowing a few of his wrongly
gotten thousands on some benevolent enter
prise. *
Creeds.
Every evangelical Christian—outside, per
haps, of the small body of “ Covenanters” or
“ Seceders”—knows that on their admission
to the communion of the church they were
never asked to subscribe the articles of reli
gion, the Confessions, or the creeds, which
the churches of the Reformation constructed
from the Word of God as a safeguard against
false teachers and rulers in the Church: That
a promise to maintain (he gospel as set forth
in systematic form of their creeds, is exacted
only from office-bearers on precisely the same
principle that though private citizens are not
called upon to accept as political truths the
Constitution of the State, or of the United
States, yet no office-bearer in the government
is allowed to assume office until first he pro
mises, under oath, to be governed in his office
by the Constitution : That thus these creeds
are really for the protection of the people
ecclesiastically, as the Slate Constitution is
their protection politically. The church of
Christ is a constitutional government j it pro
tects its citizens against the Jacobinism of
rulers and teachers who seek to be a law unto
themselves.
A Welcome.
One of our exchanges published, some
weeks since, a poetical welcome from the *
Sunduy school to the newly elected pastor of
a certain church. The first verse read thus:
With parents and friends all rejoicing to-night,
The children in gladness their voices unite,
To welcome the pastor, the shepherd and guide,
Who comes ia their midst for a time to abide.
The first three lines almost drew tears from
our eyes. Here, we thought, is a sine re
welcome—here will be a permanent pastorals.
But the fourth line completely undeceived us
r—how did it strike the pastor]