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CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SOUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST.
VOL. 49—NO. 85. Is3 00 AYEAIU
A RELIGIOUS AND FAMILY PAPER,
PUBLISHED WEEKLY IE ATLANTA, OA
AT $3.00 PER ANNUM,
Invariably in Advance.
J. J. TOON, Proprietor.
Who is my Neighbor?
Thy neighbor? It is he whom thou
Hast power to aid and bless,
Whose aching head or burning brow
Thy soothing hand may press.
Thv neighbor? ’Tis that weary man,
Oppressed in every limb,
Bent low with sickness, age and pain;
Go thou and comfort him.
Thy neighbor? ’Tis that little child
Exposed to want and sin;
Go speak to her in accents mild,
Bo patient, teach and win.
Thy neighbor? ’Tis the heart bereft
Os every earthly gem ;
Widow and orphan helpless left;
Go thou and succor them.
Whene’er thou meet’st a human form,
Less favored than thine own,
Let sympathy thy bosom warm,
Give ear to sorrow’s moan.
0 pass not, pass not heedless by;
Perhaps thy kindly care
"'tay save som o heart from misery ;
Go cany blessings there.
Tuke with thee smiles and geutle words
The suffering ones to cheer.
Walk in the footsteps of thy Lord,
His Spirit will be near.
O point the wanderer’s eye to Him,
Kneel when thou mayst in prayer;
And thou in Heaven may meet with them
Whom thou hast guided there.
Camp-Meeting among the Seminoles.
Would >on like to be here a little while,
just to see how the Indians live, how they
worship the Great Spirit, and how the mis
sionary gets along among them ? I know
you would like it. Then bear me company,
and listen while l make the paper talk; for it
is easier to make a missionary tour on papei
than in any other way. Let us go to the
Seminole camp-meeting, commencing August
10th. It is 85 or 90 miles west, and the
mercury stands above 100; but we must go,
for these people have been neglected by the
for the last five years, and it will
never do for us to neglect them any longer.
They are inclined to be Baptists. Their prin
cipal Chief—John J umper—is one of our na
tive preachers. He was once a Presbyterian,
and the Presbyterians have a good missiona
ry among them, —Dr. Ramsey,—and it would
be a burning ijhame on us if we failed to go,
especially, as they have killed the tatted calf,
and sent a special invitation, saying, ‘All
things are. now ready ;” 11 Come over and
help us.” We are among the Creeks, it is
true, but then, Seminole means wild, and they
are only the wild Creeks, and are our people,
and speak our language even better than we
do.
The Outfit. — We go through a wilder
ness uninhabited. Several Creek Baptists
wish to go with us. They are good singers,
and krfow the way. They will be of service
in the meeting, and as some of them are poor,
“ war-wudows, we must have an outfit . Let
us see: we have here one boiled ham,
i cfHff&dfe.v?'*.-,
four cans of strawberries, (the gift of my old
freed interpreter,) tour cans of sardines, some
light-bread, and an abundance of biscuits;
but our chief reliance is upon a sack of “cold
flour,” as the traders call it; but iibuskd, as
we call it. This is made by parching roast
ing-ears until quite brown, and then pound
ing in a wooden mortar until it is fine meal,
and mixing with sugar to suit the purse and
taste. Put about three spoonfuls of this
mixture to a pint of water, (more if you like,)
and drink ad libitum. It will take us tour
days to get to the meeting, and we can well
afford to fast on what we have. It is enough:
hitch two horses to the ambulance for the
missionary and his family, and for sleeping
purposes, put under the seats a straw mat
tress, buffalo rug, etc. Next, we hitch one
large yoke of oxen to a “Studebaker wagon,”
for the accommodation of four Creek fami
lies that go with us, and this wagon must
contain skins, blankets, kettles, cups, etc., etc.
Now all is ready, and off we go, full flf hope
and good humor.
First day. —We must travel slowly, for
we have oxen, the weather is excessively hot
and much of the road (if it is worthy of be
ing called a road) has not been travelled since
the war. We can make but twenty-three
miles to-day, mostly over prairie, except one
rocky, timbered mountain. Now it is high
time"“to noon,” as we have come fifteen miles,
and to the place where once worshipped the
members of the Second Took a p.ichee Baptist
church. So many memories, both [pleasant
and sad, cluster around this spot, that we
must muse while we “noon.” No inhabited
house is here now, where once lived and wor
shipped the members of a flourishing church.
All is ruin and desolation! “An enemy hath
done this /” Where stands that lone chimney,
once lived Jack-ee lit nee and his pious wife, —
Aunt July,—two of the first that joined the
Baptists, and for which offence each received
one hundred stripes on the naked back ! How
oft have I enjoyed their hospitality ! But
they are now with the martyrs of Jesus,
crying, “llow long?” etc. That fallen house,
on the l ight, was once occupied by a whole
souled Baptist, named Billy Harjo, and where
that chimney stands, on our right, was his
store. He was so sanguine in the cause of
liberty, that he went alone, of all his tribe,
to the battle of Elkhorn, and fell a martyr
to “the Lost Cause.” Ah! brother Billy,
you died in a good time, for you were spared
the humiliation of this hour, “ when vice
prevails and wicked mer. bear rule;” “when
knaves do thrive through craft, and fools
through fortune, and honesty goes frost bitten
in a summer suit.”
Qui Vive! —Who is coining yonder? lie
looks quite like a XV Amendment.
Neqro. Good rnornio’, Mr. Buck. 1 hard
ly been know you. When did you get back
to our country ? 1 ’claro to goodness Iso
glad to see you !
Buckner. You have the advantage of me.
Who are you ?
Neff. My name is Mr. Adam. I member
ob de nation Council. 1 big man now ; chief
a heap ! Don’t you 'member me? Joe Rily
was my step daddy. You use stop wid Joe
Rily when you been here.
Buckner. “O, yes ! you used to black my
boots. I remember you well. 1 remember
once when you came to Barnwell’s store, and
asked for a pair of fire proof boots; and I
remember when you stole a sack of coffee
from the Confeder ate commissary, and put a
sick of peas in place of it. 1 remember”—
Neg, •* 1 was small den; now I’sa man. I
be happy see you at next Council. It meet
in October. 1 belongs to de upper house ob
kings. Good-by.”
Buckner . “Good-by, Adam,”
“ 0 mores ! O tempora !"
Let us travel on. We have been “nooning”
three hours, and it is growing late. We can
but notice that, in this beautiful prairie, where
Flora, in days of yore, lavished the choicest
ot her stores, many of the flowers look faded
and drooping, as if our country's gloom had
settled upon them. The dwarf roses drop
their unpretending heads like blossoms in a
hail-storm. lam reminded of the beautiful
lines of Miss Nettie, on finding her favorite
prairie flowers dying:
Sr me, my flowers, lire for me;
'our lowly heads and smile again ;
>e that my poor, fated lore
ge, dark blight even on you hath lain.
ir sweet pink faces unto mine;
ipee more, y<j,nr wondrous beauty see ;
not so, I cannot let you die,
;rue comfort yon have been to me.”
own. This timbered creek is a
o eamp to-night. But let us get
mound, lest the musquitoes
presendfeillsfor settlement. The Indians call
them okeehaimaler-wolf. Appropriate name.
Bell the the horses, spread the
mattresses under the wagon—for we have no
tent—and assemblefor supper and for prayers.
How sweetly sounds the praise of God in the
wilderness! The stars look down like the
angels’ eyes, and God lends an attentive ear
to the voice of praise and prayer. I started
a favorite Creek song —
“lyise, iyUe, iyite pom-ekrennum ,”
I go, I go, Igo to my heavenly home,
and all unite, “ with the Spirit, and with the
understanding also.” After this, we join in
prayer, and all retire —my two daughters in
the ambulance; wife, son and myself under
it. The Indian women sleep in at A under
the wagon, while the men, like Virgil’s Tit
rius, repose “sub tegmine patulae fagi .”
Here we learn, from experience, that the free
night air is conducive to health and sleep, and
that it is also good for the appetite.
Wo pass by the second and third day’s
travel, lest you, reader, should become as
weary as we; remarking only, that the way
was rough and tiresome, across prairies, rocky
hills, and almost impassable streams. We
travelled fifty miles before w'e came to a
house that was inhabited. On the evening of
the fourth day we began to see signs of being
near the camp-ground. Here and there we
could see wisps of dried hay, where the In
dians had cut grass to cover the arbor, and
also, we could see where they had cut forks
and poles for the same. For twenty miles
back, every Indian, in answer to the question,
“how far?" had answered, “ dwOlis,"—it is
near ; and now we began, in chorus, to'shout,
dwOlis, when in the distance we could see the
curling smoke ascending from the camps of
the assembled Seminoles. The Indians in
my wagon had made themselves sick by eat
ing half-ripe grapes, and drinking warm
branch-water by the wayside. We got into
camps quite late in the evening of the fourth
day, and found a substantial arbor, 50 by (50,
thickly thatched with prarie hay. There
were five or six hundred Seminoles assembled,
and we were welcomed by all, and hospitably
cared for by Elder John Jumper, the princi
pal chief. I know that by this time, kind
reader, you are weary ; so 1 will let you rest
until next week, and then give you a particu
lar account oI the camp meeting.
11. F. Buckner.
Micco, Creek Nation.
First Love.
The Saviour had an account against a
church, because first love” had been de
parted from. What is this first love ? It i*4
vvh:)f Clharfi o *- V)v'*v!c\y curjs, in Ti>e <■; ins
plainest, sweetest hymns, “ earliest love.”
It is the love to God and to the saints which
kindles in the soul, when the sinner finds him
self at peace with God through faith in the
Lord Jesus Christ. From direct experience,
all Christians—regenerated persons—know
what this love is.
It is a truism that God should never be
loved less by His children, nor should they
ever love each other less. On the contrary,
as the reasons for loving both are ever in
creasing, so should the love for both ever in
tensify. God’s blessings descend in one un
broken current; the saints are each moment
coming nearer to heaven. But such is the
power of love in exercise toward God and the
saints, to give happiness, the thing that all
are in search of, that it most richly deserves
exercise on mere selfish grounds, were there
no higher. Is there one way—only one—to
be happy, and shall the seeker cf happiness
refuse that? Natural love of darkness alone
can account for such conduct. But we must
not linger here. It is a painful truth that
Christians may, and often do, leave their first
love. Instead of loving God and His family
more every day, they often come to love
them less ! Whose fault is this? Is it God’s?
Nay, verily. He does not change. His lan
guage to the saint is, “ 1 have loved thee with
an everlasting love“ I am the Lord, and l
change not ;” “ Jesus Christ, the same yes
terday, to day and forever.” The blessed
friend of sinners did not cease to love Peter
even when he had sinned. If the Lord changes
not, who does ? The Christian changes. ILe
departs from his first love. We might pause
right here and ask, what reward the backslider
receives for his coldness toward his Master?
He gets the devil’s good promises to pay,—
if anything good can come from such a source,
—but they never are more or better than
promises. When the Christian finds out that
he has bartered the joy of God’s salvation for
the devil’s worthless pledges, will he not
turn back and live in the light and atmos
phere of love again ? Satan will not allow
him, if he can help it, to remember the past,
but keeps luring him on to something new,
and the poor dupe, like a ragged gold-digger,
runs to the ever exciting call of the deceptive
enemy. This is the situation of many called
Christians, and who once seemed to be zeal
ous disciples of the Lord. So it is a fact that
many leave their first love. Some of these
would give much, it may be, to escape from
the distress they are in on this account. Can
we give them any light on such a subject?
The effort shill be made. An illustration
may serve our purpose. When a child has a
good and affectionate parent, and the child is
like the parent, if alienation of feeling ever
takes place between them, how will it
about ? The child will produce it by ?niscon
ducl, real or supposed. If only the latter, the
harmony of the family is likely soon to be
healed. The parent is not angry, but the child
is ashamed, suspicious of his parent’s willing
ness to forgive his fault, and too degraded to
love the noble and upright. Here is one of
the unvarying effects of sin, whether in the
regenerate or unregenerate man: it so degrades
the soul that love cannot be entertained for
the pure and lovely. Here is the situation of
the child. He is below his former level, and
cannot approach the parent as before, so long
as he adheres to his evil way. And even after
he shall have ceased to do evil, the scars, so
to speak, of his sins will be left, and, conscious
of their presence, the child will feel coolly
toward the parent. It is plain, in this case,
that if a thorough reconciliation ever takes
place, the parent remaining unchanged, the
child must abandon his wicked indulgences.
The illustration scarcely needs an applica
tion. The Christian knows that he is at fault,
and not God,Jgwhen his first love has cooled.
God stood still, so to express it, but he wan
dered. Sin was added to sin till the guilty
one was far, far from that early love, and no
nearer to happiness than to love. He felt
that God was as angry as He had been fro
ward. He could not believe that God would
pardon him,*nor*could he love that holy One
any more than he could look at the sun in the
heavens. And when love to God was gone.
FRANKLIN PRINTING HOUSE, ATLANTA, GA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1870.
or almost gone—for it is never quite out of
the Christian heart—then love to the saints
went with it. Such an one as this is in a sad
place of dwelling. But we set out to tell just
this poor offcast how to come back. Is it not
plain that if God stands still, and the child of
His has removed, the child must retrace
his steps —must come away from all his sins,
back to God ? If God never ceases to love
His people, and therefore still loves this wan
derer, will He not receive him back as the
father did the prodigal son ? If God forgave
this poor sinner at first, when all his load was
upon him, is he not willing to take off this
second burden of sin? If God was approached
in faith the first time, and through that faith,
for Jesus’ sake, took the sins of the penitent
away, can he not be ti usted a second or a
thousandth time to do the same infinite kind
ness? Are not all things possible to him
that believeth ? Is there, cau there be any
pardon for him that believes not? Why
should the heart-chilled Christian remain
away from his Father? O, brother, sister,
why will you be miserable away from God,
when His arms are open to you ? Can the
ways of sin ever be a compensation for spirit
ual winter? Brother, sister, come back to
God now, and do just as you did when first
you knew the Lord. Do again the works of
yd’tr first love, and if you are Christians iu
deed, your love will revive. Scrap.
“ Faults of Milusters.’ ,
In reading this article by “Somebody,” in
the Index and Baptist ofcAug. 25th, we were
constrained to ask, Is not the charge too
broad ? While a few may have been guilty,
the mass of our clergy are not guilty. “Some
body” says, “ Os all classes in our country,
we know of no one, comparatively speaking,
so completely demoralized, with few excep
tions, as ministers.” This serious accusation
is based on two examples, as proof. One min
ister of high rank in scholarship and piety, was
invited to visit a country village, etc., and
could not go because it was off the railroad,
—free transportatiori assured, etc. Another
tore himself loose from his charge without
any premonition,and he himself acknowledged
it to be one of the best missionary fields : he
went against the wishes of the brethren who
were willing to secure him 1 a support,
etc. As to the two ministers as examples I
have nothing to say. They may or may not
have erred. Every minister has a right to
decide where he will live, under the direction
of Providence ; just as much right of choice, as
the lay membership. But let that be.
Somebody makes another assertion,the sub
stance of which is, that formerly the poor.had
the gospel preached to them, but now, as soon
as a man acquired any character as a preacher,
he is transferred to the cities, where the peo
ple are enlightened, leaving the people in the
backwoods to grope in darkness. This Is a
grave charge, which I think lies at another
door; namely, of the churches in the country
and villages. In the first place, these churches
have preaching only one Sunday in the month,
and the miuister serves them has to
travel over half time, living at home
scarcely at all. Secondly, but not least, they
do not pay the /minister enough to live on.
# And while he is Aiding from place to place
tie- '--M lays at borne, instead of'
reading and preparing himself for the great
work of preaching the gospel, he has to engage
closely in secular employment, and, wearied >
in body, perplexed in mind, goes forth to labor
in the vineyard of the Lord. Why say it is
a fault when a minister is invited by a church,
(a city church, it may be :) “ Come and live
with us ; devote you whole time to the flock,
and take care of the lambs ; study to show
yourself approved, a workman that needeth
not to be ashamed, and we will see that your
barrel of meal shall not fail and the cruise of
oil shall be supplied.”
Again let me repeat,- the fault is at the
door of the churches. A few noble exceptions
and examples too, demonstrate the truth of
the argument. Two village churches, the
membership composed largely from the coun
try, worship two Sundays in the month, se
cure the services of the best talent, learning
and piety, or at least the head, so to speak, of
the Baptists South, and in high position in
our State University. Two other country
churches rise up before me who took one of
Mercer’s most promising and devoted minis
ters from the school mom and said, preach
for us; we will supply you and family.. In
stances multiply.
Allow me to glance backward a little, and
give an incident showing the hard lot of the
minister who engages in secular pursuits and
serves four churches. In conversation the
other day with a father, 1 asked, “ Is * George’
going to Mr. ’s school again next term?”
He replied, “ Nc, it does not suit me; I have
no objection to him ; he is a good teacher :
but he ha- to lose so much of his time in at
tending funerals, marriages, and often Mon
day forenoons in getting home from his
churches. No doubt he makes up for all lost
time, but Georgia has to board, and I have to
pay for all the time, etc.” Now, lam some
what like David was about Saul, God’s an
nointed : though Saul was an enemy, yet he
mourned lor him as the anointed of God.
So let me feel about the minister of God,
looking upon them with an eye that thinks no
evil. Let me love them as the heralds of the
gospel of peace and salvation. Yea, Ido love
them, and hope the day may not be far dis
tant when every church in country, village
and city, may meet every Lord’s day, have
its own pastor, and see that he is supported.
“ For the laborer is worthy of his hire.”
Femme.
Macon , Aug. 2G, 1870.
The Dove, the Raven and the Eagle.
A nobleman had a dove, a raven and an
eagle, belonging to his palace. There was
no sociability or fellowship prevailing among
them. The dove fed on its own food, and
hid herself in the clefts of the rocks, or in the
dove-house near the palace. The raven fed
upon dead carcasses, and some times picked
out the eyes of little innocent lambs, if she
could pounce upon them in a chance place;
she also nestled in the tops of the trees. The
eagle was a royal bird, flying very high, but
yet of a rapacious character. Sometimes he
would not mind eating some half a dozen of
the doves for his breakfast. He thought him
self king of birds because he flew higher than
they all. The doves greatly dreaded his
strong beak, his watchful eye and his sharp,
grappling claws. When the gentleman threw
wheat for the dove on the pavement, the raven
would have a piece of an ear or foot of a lamb
in its beak ; and the eagle was for taking up
some little child from the cradle to its nest.
The dove is the pious, diligent Christian;
the raten is the dissolute and the difficult to
be managed ; and the proud, selfish professor
is the eagle. These three cha/acters are too
frequently to be found together, and there is
no denomination, in church or chapel, without
these three birds, if there are any birds at all
there. It is impossible for three birds, so
different in their dispositions, ever to be
happy together. Brethren, pray for the unity
of the Spirit in the bond of peace.— Sermons
of Christmas Evans.
Burdens. —“ Cast thy burden upon the
Lord.” It may be some will say, “ How ?”
Roll it on Him with the two hands of faith
What Hast Then Done?
What has thou done to ahow thy love,
To Him who left His throne above;
His glorious throne in'yonder sky.
And came to earth for theg to die?
soul!
What hast thou done iu all these years.
Since Christ, in love, lii ipeiled thy fears,
And in their place gave tWe to find
Access to Him, with fijfWkJkmind?
Teh r. a), ray aoul!
Hast thou the world reaui«nced entire,
And for its praise felt no desire?
In folly never turned agtay..
But sought still joys that last alway ?
Tell me, my soul!
Whene’er a brother in' Ns need, ,
Appealed to thee to clod) ■ or feed ;
Didst thou with reply,
And for Christ’s deny ?
Tell me, my soul!
Hast thou e’er dried th-WpdftV’s tear?
Or sought the to cheer?
Hast thou e’er raise4jjic&Jle'n up,
And bidden him once iimo'to hope ?
my soul!
Or hast thuu lived in seltUh ease^
Seeking atone thyself ** please,
Forgetful that thy God "reuld claim
Thy service, if tbou here His name ?
Tell .-ae, my soul!
Forget r ot, soul, that Tttpd by,
A reckoning comes sky,
Whei Chris»t'thee,
“O soul! waai a*st'for me?”
I
Dream of a Young (London, 1814.)
I thought I was walking in the wide street
of a great city. Many people were walking
there beside myself. was something
in their air which immediately struck me.
They seemed thoughtful sHidcheerful, neither
occupied with business pleasure, but hav
ing about them such a dignity of repose, such
high and settled purpose,_su#j grace and such
purity as never were-Ramped on mortal
brow.
The light of the strange. It
was not the sun, for the _w as nothing to daz
zle. It was not the for all was clear
as day. It seemed an w-mosphere of light,
calm, lovely and changeless. The buildings
seemed all palaces, btjj*f>t like palaces of
earth. The pavements all alike of gold,
bright and shining, as glass. The
large and glittering seemed like di
vided rainbows, and* wt r * made to transmit
none but the rays of gladi.ess. It was indeed
a place to which hope v..u> bend, and wherein
charity might dwell. ! could not help ex
claiming as I passed —These are the
habitations of righteous °ss and truth. All
was beauty, bright and r »ifect.
1 could not tell what vas wanting to make
me wish for an such a place, and
yet its very purity oppressed me. I saw
nothing congenial, thou h looks of kindness
met me in every face oi that happy throng.
I felt nothing responsive*^returned in silence
their friendly greetings, walked on alone,
oppressed and sad. I savr that all went one
way, and l followed wondering the reason.
At length 1 saw them approach a building
much larger and finer than. the rest. I saw
them ascend its rnassi and enter be
neath its ample porch, felt no desire to
go with them further to the foot of the
steps. *Tapproached euriosit”. 1 saw
persons enter who cessed in every
variety of costumes of ti** nations but they
disappeared within the porch, and then crossed
the hall in white. O that I could describe that
hall to you. It was not marble, it was not
crystal, it was not gold, but light, pure light
consolidated in form. It was the moon with
out its coolness—it was the sun without its
dazzling ray, and within was a staircase
mounting upward all of light, and I saw it
touched by the snowy feet, and white and
spotless garments of those, who ascended. It
was indeed passing fair, but it made me shud
der and I turned away.
As I turned, I saw on the lowest step one
looking at me with an interest so intense,and
a manner so anxious, that I stopped to hear
what he had to say. He asked me in a voice
like liquid music—“ Why do you turn away
—is there peace elsewhere, is there pleasure
in the works of darkness';” I stood in silence.
He pressed me to I neither an
swered nor moved. Suddenly he disappeared,
and another took his place with the same
looks and manner. I wished to avoid him,
but I seemed riveted to the spot. “Art thou
come so far,” he said, “ and wilt thou lose thy
labor? Put off thine garments and take the
white livery here.” He continued to press
me till I got weary and angry and said : I will
not enter; Ido not like your livery, and lam
oppressed by your whiteness. He sighed and
was gone. Many passed by me with looks
of pity, and pressed me to follow on with
them,"and offered me a hand up the stairs
which led to their mysterious change, but I
rejected them and stood melancholy and dis
tressed.
At length one bright, good messenger came
up to me and entreated me to enter with a
voice and manner which 1 could net resist.
“ Do not turn away,” he said ; “ where canst
thou go? Do not linger, for why shouldst
thou weary thyself for naught?, Enter thou
and taste of happiness. Do .not all tribes and
colors pass into that hall? Are they not
clothed, and washed, and comforted? He
gave me his hand and I entered along with
him. Here I was sprinkled with pure water,
a garment of pure white was put upon me,
and 1 know not how, but I mounted the white
staircase with my happy guide. O what a
light burst upon me when 1 reached its sum
mit ! Mortal words cannot'describe it, nor
mortal fancy conceive it. Where are the liv
ing sapphires? Where are the glittering
stars that are like the bright adasnant on which
I stood? Where are the forms, or the looks
of love that breathed in the innumerable com
pany before me? I sank down, overpowered
and wretched. I crept into a corner and tried
to hide myself, for 1 felt I had nothing in uni
son with the blessed creatures of such a place.
They were moving to the harmony of sounds
that never fell upon mortal ear. 'My guide
joined in raptures, and I was left alone. I
saw the tall torms all fair and brilliant in their
ineffable felicity, their songs and looks of
gratitude, forming the circumstances and dif
ferences of each.
At length I saw one taller than the rest —
—one every way more fair, more awful, sur
passing thought, and to him every eye was
turned, and in his face every face was bright
ened. The songs and the praises were to his
honor, and all seemed to drink from him their
life and joy.
As l gazed in speechless and trembling
amazement, one who saw me “Ifft the com
pany and came where I stood. “Why,” he
asked, “ art thou silent ? Come quickly and
unite in the praises and song.” I felt a sullen
anger in my heart and I answered with sharp
ness : L will not join in your song, for 1 know
not the strain. He sighed, and, with a look
of surprising humiliating pity, returned to his
place. About a minute after, another came,
and addressed me as he had done, and with
the same temper I answered him in the same
words. He seemed as though he could have
resigned his own dazzling glory to have
changed me. If heaven knows anguish, he
seemed to feel it, but he left me and returned.
What could it be that put such temper in my
heart ?
At length the Lord of the glorij ms.com-
saw me, aud came where I stood. I thrilled
in every pufie with awe. 1 felt my blood
curdle, and the flesh upon me tremble. My
heart grew hardeued, and my voice was bold.
He spoke, and deep-toned music seemed to
drop from his lips. “ Why fittest thou so
still when ail around thee are glad? Come
join in the song, for I have triumphed. Como
join in the song, for my people reign.” Love,
ineffable, unutterable, beamed upon me as
though it would have melted a heart of stone,
but 1 melted not. I gazed an instant and then
said, I will not join in the song, for I know
not the strain.
Creation would k hsve fled at the change in
his co<!litenance. His glance was lightning
and his voice thunder, fie said, “ Then what
doest thou here?” The earth quaked. The
floor beneath me opened, and I sank into tor
menting flame. With the fright I awoke.
The young lady,related the above dream to
her pious sisters, who had often entreated her
to become a Christian, and she had as often
resisted. A few days after, she was found in
her room a corpse. She evidently died with
out disease, and without change.
Communion.
The following anecdote was narrated to the
writer by the reverend gentleman whose
policy* it reveals. He was settled in the
“ land of steady habits,” was a popular
preacher, and of good repute. It
tially as follows: “ I was for a considerable
time pastor of a Congregational church in
k There was a large, influential Baptist
church close by. But I never used to preach
upon baptism. Nothing is to be gained in
that way ; for everybody will believe that
immersion is baptism, and young converts
generally prefer it. I was in the habit of
preaching and talking against close commun
ion. I made all I could outot that, especially
in times of revival. This had the desired
effect, for it prejudiced people against the
Baptists, and in this way drew more or less
of the converts to our church, who, no doubt,
would oiherwise have joined the Baptists.”
Th is speaks for itself.
Another anecdote of a different character
may serve as a counterpart to the forego.ng:
Towards the close of a religious awakening
in a neighborhood where there were no Bap
tists, it was whispered in the ears of the young
converts, of whom there was a goodly num
ber, that Baptists held to close communion.
The writer soon heard of it; whereupon he
made a few visits ; the first, to an elderly lady
who had been a member of a Pedobaptist
church for about twenty years, ft was soon
ascertained that she had never communed out
of her own church. The next was to quite an
aged man, and a member of the same church
from his youth up. He said he had never
communed with any other denomination, that
his own church afford him frequent opportu
nities to celebrate the Lord s death, and that
he never had a desire to commune elsewhere.
A third professor was visited with similar re
sults. Attheclose of public service on the fol
lowing Lord’s day, the above facts regarding
the visiting were announced to the congrega
tion. Whether “ this had the desired effect”
or not, others may judge, after being tolif that
1 nottiiVg more was heard about close /com
munion, and that nearly all the converts, and
a lew from other churches, were baptized into
the fellowship of a Baptist church —Rev. J.
F. Tolman, in Standard.
The Origin of Protestant Missions.
Near the close of the last century there was
living in England a young Baptist minister,
very poor, with but little education, and a
family to support. In addition to the small
salary he received for preaching on the Sab
bath, he derived something of an income from
making shoes, or teaching school, during the
rest of”the week. While he was engaged in
the latter employment hi sometimes had
occasion to instruct his pupils in geography.
His studies in this subject, and the reading of
a book at that time widely circulated—the
once popular Voyages of Captain Cook—
brought the moral and religious condition of
the far distant heathen portion of the world
vividly to his view. As he reflected on their
benighted state the question often arose in
his mind, if the time had not arrived for the
Church of Christ to give these perishing mil
lions the blessings of Christianity. He often
preached on the subject to his own congrega
tion, and urged it also upon the attention of
his ministerial brethren in his intercourse
with them. But he received but very little
sympathy or encQuragoment from any quar
ter. He was generally regarded; by his
friends as a visionary man, who in the com
mon parlance of the present day, had the
heathen on the brain. The young enthusiast,
as he was commonly considered, bore the
name of Carey.
A.few years rolled on, and Carey found
the means of attending the theological school
of Dr. Ryland, one of the most eminent men
in the denomination. At this seminary it
was the custom for the young men to hold a
discussion ever week on some religious topic
which had been proposed “by one of their
number. On one of these occasions Carey
propounded as a theme the question, Has not
the tim *. arrived for Christians to send the
gospel to heathen nations? The question
was so new and so contrary to all the precon
ceived notions of the Christian world upon
the subject, that it so startled Dr. Ryland he
arose at once from his seat, and indignantly
exclaimed, “Sit down, young man. When
God wishes to convert the heathen, He will
do it without your aid, or mine.”
This strange rebuke of his theological teach
er did not, however, quench the missionary
zeal of Carey. Not long after he left the
seminary, having received an appointment to
preach before the General Baptist Associa
tion, he selected for his subject the evangeli
zation of the world. The general drift of
his discourse was, “Ask great things of God,
expect great things from Him, and attempt
great things for Him.” The effect of the
sermon upon his audience was such that they
were all unanimously converted to his views,
and became enthusiastically interested in the
conversion of the world. A missionary so
ciety was immediately formed, Andrew
Fuller, the great Baptist divine, was appoint
ed the secretary, and a sum of over fifty dol
lars—which at that time was reckoned as
very large—-was raised before the Associa
tion dispersed.
As soon as the newly-organized society for
the propagation of the gospel among the
heathen had raised the means of sending forth
a missionary, Carey was solicited to inaugu
rate the enterprise by devoting himself to
the work, and establishing a mission in India.
He consented to undertake the arduous aud
self-denying service on condition, as he said,
that his friends at home would hold the rope
while he descended Into the dark cavern of
heathenism abroad. Not long after this
agreement he sailed for the far distant shores
of Hindostan, never again to visit his native
land. By his untiring zeal, devoted piety,
superior ability, and vast oriental learning,
exhibited through a period of forty years, he
placed himself foremost among the warriors
of the cross who within the present century
have planted the banner of Christianity on so
many oT the strongholds of heathen darkness.
Thu3originatedthegrea^ProtestanM7T^|i^^
of Carey, the shoemaker, the schoolmaster,
and obscure Baptist preacher, and who, though
the object of ridicule to such men as Sidney
Smith, Jeffery, and Brougham, was, notwith
standing, as it has been said of John Milton,
one of God’s noblest Englishmen.
While the missionary ’spirit was thus en
kindled in England, its beginning in our own
country prociWed from a similar humble ori
gin. Early in the present century three or
four young men of Williams College, Massa
chusetts, met together by appointment behind
a haystack, and there solemnly dedicated
themselves to the work af preaching the gos
pel among the heathen. This interesting fact,
as soon as it was known, awakened such a
zeal on the subject of foreign missions among
the churches of our land that it led, eventu
ally, to the establishment of the American
Board, the oldest and the most successful of
our American missionary societies.
Scarcely eighty years have run their course
since the organization of the first missionary
society in England by the labors of Carey.
The Missionary Herald, the organ of the
American Board, thus sums up the result of
this great Protestant movement of modern
times : “ Forty-two missionary societies, rep
resenting almost every branch of the Chris
.tian Church, and eighteen hundred mission i
ries vie with each other in the fulfillment of
the Redeemer’s last command. The contri
butions of the churches annually amount to
the sum of five millions of dollars. Eight
thousand native preachers, in more than an
hundred languages, unite with the missiona
ries of many lands in repeating the story of
the cross; and three hundred thousand disci
pies, gathered from almost every tribe of the
children of men, bear witness to its saving
power, and the blessed hopes it inspires.
And then there are the Bible and a Christian
literature in these many tongues ; the under
mining of heathenism, the despair of the
popular faith; the conviction that the truth
is with us; and all the vast preparation for
the final conquest.”— Buffalo Christian Ad~
vocate.
Immersion of Oriental Women.
Whatever obstacles may be supposed to
exist to the immersion of multitudes in Pales
tine must be supposed to exist in Hindoostan.
There the men are not more robust, there the
women are not less timid and secluded ; mul
titudes, nevertheless, are immersed there at
their sacred festivals.
“ There are a great many springs and pools
consecrated by superstition, and much re
nowned for the spiritual effects which they
communicate to those who bathe in them.
When the year-and the day arrive for bath
ing in those sacred waters, a crowd of people,
almost without number, arrange themselves
all around the water at the happy time. They
wait for the favorable hour and moment of
the day ; and on the instant of the astrologers
announcing it, all—men, women and children
—plunge into the water at once.” — Dubois,
p. 125.
“ But of all festivals, the most famous, at
least in most countries, is that which is called
Pongol, celebrated in the end of December,
or the winter solstices. The second’ day is
called Surya Pongol,,or Pongol of,the Sun.
Married women, after purifying themselves
by bathing, which they perform by plunging
into the water without taking off their clothes,
and coining out all dripping with wet, set
about boiliflg rice in the open air, and not
under any cover.”— Dubois, p. 387. “In the
full moon, at Asharhu.many thousands of Hin
doos assemble at Prutapurguru, a place to the
west of Lucknow, and bathe inthe Godavery.”
Ward, vol. iii., p. 218. “On the last day
of Choitru, a large concourse of Hindoos, some
say as many as twenty thousand, principally
women, assemble at Uvodhya to bathe in the
Suruyo.”-— lbid, p. 219. “On the banks of
the Yumoona, on the second of the moon, in
Khartickhu, vast crowds of Hindoos assemble
in different places to bathe.” — Ibid, p. 219.
“ On the thirteenth of the decrease of the
moon, in Choitru, the people descend into the
water, and, with their hands joined, immerse
.themselves.’ The people repeat after the
priest certain significant words, as the day of
the month, the name of Vishnu, etc., and then
immerse themselves again. On this occasion,
groups of ten or twelve persons stand in the
water in one spot, for whom one Bramhun
reads the formulas.”— lbid, p, 212. “At
sacred spots, such as Benares, one hundred
thousand men are often seen assembled on
the banks of the Ganges, especially at the
time of an eclipse ; as soon as the shadow of
the earth touches the moon, the whole mass,
upon a certain signal given, plunge at once
into the stream.”— Weilbrecht, p. 116.
All that can be imagined against immersion
in Judea might with equal plausibility be ad
vanced to prove that there are no immersions
in India. If to bathe in their clothes would
injure the disciples of John at Bethabara, so
it would injure the devotees of Vishnoo at
Benares. If the secluded habits of the Jewish
women would forbid their immersion at bap
tism, so would their more secluded habits
forbid the women of India from being im
mersed at their festivals. But as it takes
place under the eye of the British government
in India, notwithstanding the imaginations of
its improbability, so did it take place in the
Jordan, notwithstanding similar arguments to
the contrary. Let the reader observe that
these Hindoo baptisms are not cited to justify
the practice of immersion—it needs no justi
fication ; but simply to obviate imaginative
arguments against the historical fact derived
from the supposed seclusion of Jewish women
and the supposed danger of immersion to
their health.
Religious Literature. —The Free Chris
tian Commonwealth says : “No religious
books written by men can supply the place
of the word of God ; but it may be assumed
as invariably true that those who are most
familiar with the word of God, are the same
who appreciate most the writings of Christian
men. And the professing Christian of abun
dant means, who talks of his Bible as enough
for him, is the n.an who is least acquainted
with the Scriptures themselves, and least con
cerned for the promotion of the gospel. The
mind which delights most in the word of God,
delights also to.commune with other minds
which have drawn supplies from the same rich
stores of wisdom.” We commend this thought
to those Christians who will not take a reli
gious paper, because “ the Bible is enough for
them.”
God, in False Philosophy. —Matthew
Arnold protests against theology somewhat
earnestly. Acoording to him, the only con
eeption that a scientific man can form of God
is “ that stream of tendency by which all things
strive ta fulfill the law of their being, and
which, inasmuch as our idea of real welfare
resolves itself into the law of one’s being, man
deems the fountain of all goodness, and calls
by the worthiest and most solemn name be
can, which is God.”
A Bread and Butter Religion.—Froth
ingham, the N. Y. Unitarian, says : “ The re
ligion which Christ most approves is a bread
and butter religion. He takes no note of
prayers and professsions; of Bibles and tracts
for the poor ; but when one goes forth laden
i$S 00 A YEAR.}
“Within You.”
O prize of all that struggle,
O hope of all that wait,
0 home for all the homeless,
Swing wide thy glowing gate!
O pardon for the sinning,
O refuge for the tried.
O safety for the tempted,
Let us in thee abide I
What distant blue enshrines thee?
What far-off starlight sees?
What wearv path guides thither?
Who holds the golden keys ?
Though eyes grow dim with watchiug,
We’ll seek that safe retreat,
With toil and stain of travel,
But unretracing feet.
But lo! its walls draw closer,
Its voices clearer speak,
Nor frowning are its portals,
Nor very far to seek.
For every patient longing,
For every strife with sin,
They open wide with blessing
The kingdom is within!
—Mixs E. M. Johnson.
“El BahrlZEl Bahr!"
The cool night arrived, and at about half
past eight I was lying half asleep upon my
bed by the margin of the river, when 1 fan%
cied that I heard a rumbling like distant thun
der; I had not heard such a sound for months,
but a low, uninterrupted roll appeared to in
crease in volume,although far distant. Hardly
had 1 raised my head to listen more attentive
ly, when a confusion of voices arose from the
Arabs’ camp, with a sound of many feet, and
in a few minutes they rushed into my camp,
shouting to my men in the darkness, “El
Bahr! El Bahr!” (the river! the river!)
We were up in an instant, and my interpreter,
in a state of intense confusion, explained that
the supposed distant thunder was the roar of
approaching water. Many of the people
were asleep in the clean sand in the river’s
bed; these were quickly awakened by the
Arabs, who rushed down the steep bank to
save the skulls of my two hippopotami that
were exposed to dry. Hardly had they de
scended, when the sound of the river in the
darkness beneath told us that the water had
arrived, and the men, dripping with wet, had
just sufficient time to drag their heavy burj
dens up the bank. The river had arrived
“like a thief in the night.” On the 24th of
June I stood on the banks of the noble At
bara river at the break of day. The wonder
of the desert! yesterday there was a barren
sheet of glaring sand, with a fringe of with
ered bushes and trees upon its borders, that
cut the yellow expanse of the desert. For
days we had journeyed along the exhausted
bed; all nature, even in nature’s poverty,
was most poor; no bush could boast a leaf,
no tree could throw a shado. In one night
there was a mysterious change —wonder of
the mighty Nile—an army of water was
hastening to the wasted river; there was no
drop of rain ; no thunder cloud on the hori
zon to give hope; all had been dry and sul
try, dust and desolation, yesterday ; to-day a
magnificent stream some five hundred yards
in width, and from fifteen to twenty feet in
depth, flowed through the desert
i Explorations of ifte jS/ile Tributaries'
Transubstantiation Outdone.
The lata Henry Drummond, the wealthy
English banker, was a disciple of Edward
Irving, and having adopted extreme views of
the sacraments, was thought to he in danger
of perversion to Romanism. When visiting
Rome, the Jesuit head of the Propaganda
undertook to convert him to a belief in tran
substantiation, when the following conversa
tion occurred:
Mr. Drummond asked whether it was the
doctrine of “the church” that natural bread
and wine were so changed by the act of con
secration as to become what they were not
before. The General of the Jesuits replied,
“Beyond all doubt.” “Then,” said Mr.
Drummond, “supposing that some of our
great chemists, say Raspial or Faraday, were
allowed to analyze the elements after conse
cration, would they find any change to have
taken place?” The General paused and then
said, “Sir, if such an impiety were to take
place, I believe the elements would be found
restored to their natural state.” Mr. Drum
mond rejoined, “Then I understand that in
this case the elements would be the subject
of fwo miracles. By the act of consecration
one miracle would be performed, by which
they would be transubstantiated into the body
and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ; but by
the act of desecration a second miracle would
be performed, whereby the elements would
be restored to their natural state.” The
General of the Jesuits could bear this no
longer. His face reddened, and he rose in
great wrath, saying, “Sir, 1 perceive that
you are only a speculator, and not at all dis
posed to hear the church; and let me tell
you, that if you continue in your present
state, infallibly vans irez aux enfers.” Mr.
Drummond said, “I thanked the irate priest
for the warm interest he took in my welfare,
and so we parted.”
WHOLE NO. 2505.
Methodist Probationers. —A correspon
dent of the Examiner & Chronicle, N. Y.,
says: A Baptist brother of my acquaintance
has resided in the town in this State in which
he now resides, about ten years. During
that time several persons, residing in that
town, have joined the Methodist church, or
the classes, on probation, from three to five
times each. The process is this: In a time
of religious excitement persons would “join
class;” but, failing to unite in full connection
at the end of six months, they would drop
out of class, and then, when the next time of
revival or excitement came, they would be
stirred up, “join class” again, and so on in
definitely.
Creeds. —Whether creeds be good or bad
for the individual, we shall not now discuss;
but that they are to religious denominations
the breath of life, there can be no doubt
whatever. When we hear people talking
about a church having no substructure of
affirmation, we are always reminded of the
old Scotch Judge’s account of society in the
Highlands, which he 9aid was based on “ the
grand fundamental principleo* wanto’breeks.”
The Nation.
A Great Distinction. — Henry Ward
Beecher says in one of his sermons: “ I love
goodness a thousand times more than I hate
badness.” A noble sentiment. But, ah,
how often is it not true, even among Chris
tians! The belligerent element seems to be
most developed. It is the church militant,
the church hating badness, rather than the
church with serene brow, loving and cultiva
tiug goodness.
Atheism. —Within the short period of ten
years not less than three millions of human
beings are supposed to have perished in
France by the influence of Atheism.— Dr.
Dwiyht.
Psalmodv. —It is easier to sing heresy into
people than to preach it into them. A great
many persons know more of their hymn
books than they do of their Bibles.