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About Christian index and South-western Baptist. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1866-1871 | View Entire Issue (Sept. 8, 1870)
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.
