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LKCTCRE TO STCDKITS.
University on Georgia, May 23, 1875.
BY IIENRY n. TUCKER, CHANCELLOR.
Ecclesiastes xn.
Reiuembe- now thy Creator in the days of thy
youth, while th 9 evil days oome not, nor the
years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no
pleasure injthem;
2. While the sun, or the light, or the moon, or
the stars be not darkened, nor the clouds return
after the rain:
3. In the day when the keepers of the house
shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow
themselves, and the grinders cease because they
are few, and those that look out of the windows
be darkened;
4. And the doors shall be shut in tbe streets,
when the sound of the grinding is low. and he
shall rise up at the voice of tho bird, and all the
daughters of music shall be brought low ;
5. Also when they shall be afraid of that which
is high, aud fears shall be in the way, and the
almond-tree shell flourish, and tho grasshopper
shall be a burden, and desire shall fail; because
man goeth to his long home, and the mourners
go about the streets;
6. Or ever tho silver cord be loosed, or the
golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken
at tho fountain, or the wheel broken at the
cistern.
7. Then shall the dust return to the earth as
it was : and the spirit shall return unto God who
gave ft.
Much of what I shall say in this exposi
tory lecture, may be found substantially,
though in various forms, in books —in books
with which the world is familiar. All that
I can claim for myself is, that I have called
no man master, and that what I shall say is
said in my own way, and that some of the
thoughts perhaps may be new.
Doubtless thousands have read, and ad
mired this chapter, without the slightest con
ceptioa of the meaning ol many of its ex
pressions. They perceive in them a wild
beauty, without being able to define it, aud
a mysterious meaning, of which they appre
hend just enough to please the fancy and ex
cite the imagination, but not enough to in
form the understanding. Even when thus
imperfectly understood, there is in the chap
ter much ol beauty, much ot solemnity, much
of pathos, and much of sublimity.
I remember once in my early years, read
ing a work of fiction, which closed with
these words; “The silver cord was loosed,
the golden bowl was broken.’’ 1 did not
know that the words were taken from the
Bible. I had not the slightest idea of] their
meaning j but they affected me deeply—per
haps to tears. They seemed to me to be a
beautiful figure of some heart-breaking catas
trophe. They spoke of joys past, aud sor
row present, of bright hopes and bitter disap
pointments. The loosening of the silver
cord figured to me the giving up of some
cherished prize; the broken pieces of the
golden bowl lay scattered before me as the
wreck and ruin of that which was loved.
And thus, without the least conception of
what was in the mind of the writer, when
the words were written, I still enjoyed them.
And thus it may often happen that while
our conceptions are exceedingly vague and
shadowy, they may still be comforting and
valuable. The ill-instructed, and the ig
norant, may have very dim conceptions of
divine truth, and au undefined view even of
the saving; truths of the Gospel, and still be
the happier and the better for them; aud all
of us who love God, are delighted in spirit
when we think of Him, aud always elevated
in spiritual life by communion with Him,
while, at tbe same time, we know that our
best ideals ot Him are imperfect and utterly
inadequate.
But the more we know of Him, the more
we appreciate Him; the more we know of
anything, the more we enjoy in it that which
is enjoyable. As to the chapter before us, the
more iatclligeutly we read it, the more we
shall see in it to admire, and the more wc
shall be impressed by its teachings.
The chapter, taken as a whole, is a poetic
and allegorical description of old age and
death. The decrepitude, the infirmities and
the wretchedness of old age, described in lit
eral and graphic terms, would surely not ex
cite our | erception ot the beautiful; aud the
object itself is one which wc should not sup
pose would awaken the genius of the poet.
does say—
Fortunate Senex ! hie inter flumina nota,
Et fontes saoros, frigaa captabia opacum,
Hinc, alta sub rupe, cauet fronlatorad auras
Nee tamen intorea rauco , tua cura palumbea,
Nec gemcre acria ccessabit. turtur ab nlmo.
But while his address is to the happy old
man, his description is of the landscape, aud
of rural sounds and pleasures, rather than of
the failing powers aud shattered constitution
of old age. Shakespeare is more bold, and
actually describes the painful sight of a
man drivelling in octogenarian infancy, and
falling helpless in arim of death—
The sixth age, shifts
Into the loan and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacle* on nose, and poach on side;
His youthful hoso well saved a world too wide
For his shrunk shank ; aud his big manly voioo
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mero oblivion,'
Bans teeth, saus eyes, sans taste, sans every
thing.
In the vivid description of the Bard of
Avod, there is much that is striking, but all
is revolting; there is no tenderness, no
pathos, no sublimity. Indeed, here is a
striking want of that affectionate reverence
which is due to the venerable patriarch
bowed down by the weight of many years,
and like the shock ofcoru ripe for the sickle,
and ready to be gathered by God’s harvesters
into that great garner house of excellence,
prepared fur His saints, and where the mortal
has put out immortality. It is interesting
to notice the immeasurable distance between
the inspirations of genius, and the inspira
tion of genius aided from on high. Even as
unpiotmsiog a spectacle as that of human
life in its last stage, is charmed into beauty,
and touches the lenderest heart-strings, and
awakens sentiments both deep and delicate,
and at the same time inspires emotions of
solemn grandeur and majesty by the genius
of the royal poet and sage of Israel.
Cicero, it is true, in his charming essay De
Seneetute, breathes a much more amiable
spirit than Shakspeare, and his meditations
are as wise, and as comforting as could be
expected from a heathen philosopher—nay,
more so; and he was probably indebted lor
some of his views to these very living oracles
which lie before us. But Cicero, while he
had the highest order of talent, was not a
man of genius; he wm not a poet, he was
not a man of God, and, above all, he was
not inspired. Ilia extended essay contains
not a tithe either of the knowledge or of the
wisdom, to be found in these lew lines of
Solomon; and to affect the heart it is power
less. Tue contrast between his essay and
the brief chapter before usjs the contrast be
tween knowledge and ignorance ; between
diluteness and concentration; between
poetry and prose; between the sublime and
the commonplace; between pathos and
apathy; between solemn and awful warnings
that can never be forgotten, and well-souud-
Ing but insipid platitudes, which please but
for the moment. The essay De Seneclute,
THE CHRISTIAN INDEX AND SOUTH-WESTERN BAPTIST December 26.
read before this chapter, makes an impres
sion favorable to the writer, but not strongly
as to his subject. Read after this chapter it
makes no impression at all.
But now, let us look to the particulars.
The expression “while the evil days come
not, nor the years draw nigh,” is a specimen
of the parallelisms which characterize
Hebrew poety. A favorite method with the
Hebaew poets was to repeat a seutiment
with varied phraseology. Illustrative of
this, is the speech addressed by Lantech to
his wives, when he said: “Adah and Zillah,
hear my voice: Ye wives of Lantech heark
en into my speech ; for I have slain a man to
my wounding and a young man to my
hurt.” Innumerable instances of like kind
might be adduced, similar to “while the evil
days'oome not, nor the years draw nigh,”
when the second phrase is but the echo of
the first, ii English poetry, the lines are
often made to rhyme in sound. In Hebrew
poetry, the rhyme is in the sense. “When
the evil days come not and the years draw
nigh” is simply a rhyme.
The picture of old age, is adroitly relieved
of its revoltingness, by the fact that it is
a present presentation of the future portrait
ure of the person addressed, and not of an
other. Btiug thus brought home to the
man. and lastened on himself, it disarms ir
reverent criticism, and inclines to lenience
and forbearance. “When the evil days
come not, nor the years draw nigh, when
thou shall tsay, I have no pleasure in them.”
The description is first brief, and in generic
terms, of a period when there is no pleas
ure. There is no positiveness in this state
ment. It is simply a negation. Old age is
represented simply as the period when the
enjoyments of life are over. But in the next
verse, the statements are more positive, as
well as more specific, and the poet speaks of
the particulars which are the cause of failing
pleasure.
“While the sun, or the light, or the moon,
or the stars be not darkened.” In this in
direct and delicate way the poet refers to
failing sight. He does not mean that the
sun and moon and other luminous bodies
are actually darkened, ,but only that they
seem so to one of weakened vision. Thus
with an expertness, known only to genius,
is the subjective translated into the objec
tive, and tbe actual coudition of the man
set forth by the seeming condition of out
ward things. Nothing looks to the old as it
does to the young. The grass is not so
green, nor the sky so blue nor so bright, nor
the fiowersso gay, nor the mead so inviting,
nor even the sun so glorious, as to the eager
aud inquisitive and easily delighted eye of
youth. All these objects ol sight lose their
charms one by one, until, finally, the very
sun may be said to be darkened.
“Nor the clouds return atter the rain.”
When the rain has ceased, we look for
bright skies and sunshine; if the clouds re
turn we feel disappointed, and if this should
be often repeated, it is apt to superinduce gen
eral gloominess and dejection of spirits. Un
der this figure, the poet describes the constant
ly recurring infirmities and disppointments
of declining years. One pain is relieved, and
another lakes its place. The clouds return
after the rain. One misfortune or bereave
ment is endured, and as the sorrow is abont to
pass away, there is a moment of hope, but the
clouds return, and another affliction is on
hand. Thus not only some, but all his “days
are dark and dreary.” By a single stroke,
the merest touch of the artist’s pencil, he has
brought out that, which after using many
words of explanation, is not so vivid as when
he simply said, “The clouds return after the
rain.”
"In tha day when the keepers of the house
shall tremble.” Under the figure of a house,
the human bod/ is referred to, as the habita
tion of the soul; and by the keepers of tha
house, is meant, the hands and arms, which
are its chief protectors and defenders. There
is no coarse and bald description of the palsied
hands, andshakiug limbs, but uadtr the im
age of brave men terror-struck and trembling,
is the idea presented to the imagination.
‘‘The strong men shall bow themselves.”
The tact is not mentioned in literal terms
that, as years advance, the stature diminishes,
the joints approach each other by the drying
up of the lubricating fluids; the muscles be
come fltccid and fail to hold the frame work
closely together, and as these and the sinews
loosen, the lower limbs become bent outward
or inward, the erect attitude of you this gone,
and the old man is bowed down. All this is
expressed by the royal writer in the words,
“the strong men shall bow themselves."
“The grinders shall cease because they are
few.” The figure is of those grinding at the
mill, by hand, in companies, and one after
another leaving, until all are gone. Refer
ence is had to the teath, which disappear as
years advance, until finally the natural prep
aration of food for the stomach ceases entire
ly. The literal fact is painful to contemplate,
the figure used to describe it, is simply sadden
ing but not revolting.
“And those that look out of the windows be
darkened.” It has been supposed that this
referss to the eyes, as these are windows which
open from the soul to the outer world. But
there are two objections to this: 1. Failing
sight has been already spoken of, and the
present expression is too far from ths first to
be considered as its paralellism. 2. It is not
the window iltel / that is darksned, but those
that look out of them. Hence, I suppose, it
refers not to physical but to mental vision.
The power of clear conceptions, and conse
quently of drawing nice distinctions becomes
sensibly weakened in the late decline of life.
Men not only fail to me clenrly, but they fail
to think clearly; these internal powers of
thought are they that look out of the windows
upon the objective world, and it is they that
are darkened.
That this is the proper interpretation, ap
pears probable, from the fact, that if thia ex
pression does not refer to decaying mental
powers, then that peculiar infirmity incident
to old age, is left out altogether ; for there is no
other expression that refers to it, and it is not
to be supposed, that Solouiou would omit so
conspicuous an item.
“And the doors shall be shut in the streets
when the sound of the grinding is low.” It
has been said that this refers to the fact that as
age advances, men keep out of the streets and
are stayers at borne. I do not believe that
this iB the correct interpretation. When is it
that the doors shall be shut in the streets? It
is when the sound of the grinding is low.
This shows that the lose of teeth, is wbat cau
ses the doors to be shut in the streets. The
mere loss of teeth, would not cause one to stay
at home; and lor this reason, I think the com
mon interpretation is wrong. That which is
spoken ot as streets must bare some connexion
with the teeth. The expression “doors shut in
the streets” then, must mean the failure of
something which depends on the teeth. It
can refer to nothing else then, than the (towers
of digestion; the stomach and bowels being
compared to Btreets, and the doors or gates
being shut, simply imply that these impor
tant viscera, being not supplied with proper
material, a-eume abnormal conditions, and
cease fo perform their functions.
“Aud he shall rise up at the Voice of the
bird." Insomnia is a common complaint of
the aged. It is the well known habit of such
persona to wake early in the morning. Their
nights are long and wearisome and they long
for the approach of day; and if they fall into
light and momentary slumber, they awake at
the first chirp of the bird ; and in tropical and
semi-tropical climates, the birds begin to whis
tle at the earliest approach of dawn.
“And all the daughters of music, shall be
brought low.” The daughters of music are the
voice which produces it, and the ears which en
joy it. Uader this delicate figure, representing
music as a matron, and the voice of hearing
as her daughters, the sacred writer, whose
taste is as exquisite as his fancy is inventive,
describes the tact, that when other powers fail,
the voice, too, loses its power of making melo
dy, and the hearing become* dull and inap
preciative.
"Also when they shall be afraid of that
which is high.” The aged are made dizzy by
looking down from high places, or from look
ing up to them. It is not only fear that they
feel, it is something more; it is the nervous
ness which shrinks Irom the sight of anything
to which the eye is not accustomed. A young
man when debilitated by sickness, will for the
time, while his nerves are unstrung, be afraid
of that which is high; and this condition
which is temporary with him in youth, will
become chronic when he is old.
“And fear shall be in the way.” The great
characteristic of age is timidity. Old men
fear death and danger in any form, more
than the young. One would suppose, that
they would care much less for death than the
young: and so perhaps they do: but, in the first
place, they have formed the life-long habit of
cautiousness and care; in the next place they
are governed more by their sensibilities than
by their judgment; and finally, their weakened
nerves can bear no strain, lienee wherever
they go, fears are in the way; and sometimes
they excite an affectionate smile, when they
caution a vigorous and active young man to
take care lest he full while walking in a place
of perfect safety.
“And the almond tree shall flourish.”
Here is described the whitened locks of tho
man of many years. It is remarkable, that
the poet does not compare the white hairs of
the aged, to anything that is perishing and
passing away, but rather under the figure of
the flowering almond, to that which is fresh
and blooming aid blossoming into life.
“And tho grasshopper shall be a burden.”
To the aged and infirm everything is a burden.
They are a burden to themselves. Gertai nly
they are not capable of enduring fatigue, and
such is their dread of cflort, that they shrink
from that which even loots like effort. How
often the aged parent fails to write to the ab
sent, though much loved son, just because he
scarcely feels able to write. To such, even so
sntult a thing as a grasshopper, would be a
berdeu.
“Aud desire shall fail.” This is the first
specification that is made in literal terms. AU
the senses became blunted-all the appetites
lose their keenness, the passions din out; all
that nervous system which is the avenue of
pleasure to the young, is inoperative with the
aged, and their chief desire is to be let alone.
Instincts which once loudly asserted them
selves, are now quiet and ask for nothin)
“Because man goeth to liis long home.”
This is the grave. It is oompered not to a
dungeon, ner to a loathsome place, but to a
Home, end not to a temporary stopping place,
which has none of the real sacrednesa of home,
though it be called by that name, but to a long
home, which is a real home, and therefore a
place not to be dreaded but to be loved.
“And the mourners go abont the street*.”
The expression is again literal and refers to
the funeral obsequies, whsn mourners walk
the Btreeta in lamentation.
“Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the
golden bowl be broken.” The silver cord has
reference to the spinal marrow, which is a
kind of elongation of the tirain, and which is
the great nervous centre of the whole system.
When this fails, all fails. Its rupture is cer
tain death. Iu isflamalion produces the dis
ease known as meningitis. Recent experi
ments, are said to show, that it is to some extent,
the seat of intelligence. When the brain is
entirely removed from some animals, they
stdl show some Bigns of intelligent theught,
so long as the silver oord is unbroken. It
may be that three thousand years ago, Solo
mon knew what has been discovered by us
within the last few monthp. This spinal mar
row called by anatomists madulla oblongata,
has the appearance of a silver oord, and hence
the figure.
The golden bowl, is a kind of membranous
basin of a goldsn color, iu which the brain is
contained. It is the casket in which the gem
of all gems is kept. W hen the cisket is brok
en the gem is lost.
“Or the pitcher be broken at the fountain,
or the wheel broken at the cistern.” The
fountain is the left ventricle ot the heart,
whence the blood is pumped out to supply the
demands of the system, whence it may he
properly called a well or fountain, as it seems
io be the source of supply. The pitcher is the
aorta, a large artery which first receives the
blood from the well. The wheel is that power
of contraction and dilation called by anatomists
systole aud diastole, which causes the circula
tion of the blood. When the pitcher is brok
en, that is, if the aorta is ruptured, instauta
neons death must ensue ; and such also would
be the care if the wheel were broken, that is, if
from asthenia or other cause, eilher the con
traction or the expansion of the heart should
cease.
Observe, that in describing the awful
phenomena of death, the poet delicately
evades a cruel literality, and represents the
iacts uuder figures, which, though sadden
ing, are not heart rending.
Never before, I suppose, and never since
has so terrible a castrophe as the bursting
ot the heart, or the stoppage of its functions,
been described in terms at once so graphic,
and so exhaustive, and, at the same time, so
softened by tender sentiment, ami poetic
imagery, as to deprive them of all severity.
We are spared the rude shock which the
the statement of the facts would have made,
if clothed in harsh words, or even in plain
words ; while yet the presentation is more
vivid, than if it had been literal. Tuere is
not the cold description of the anatomist in
scientific terms ; there is not the rudeness
of the vulgar, or of the thoughtless ; there is
not the coarseness of the unfeeling ; all is
solemn, impressive, touching, beautiful,
even in ghastly death. None could have
done it, but one who was at osce a poet,
a genius, a philanthropist and a saiut ; and
none can appreciate it, who have not.to some
extent at least, oorrcspondfng qualities.
“Then shall the dust return to the earth
as it was, and the spirit shall return to God
who gave it.”
Here again the kingly preacher-poet, usos
literal terms which need not be explained.
Now, in regard to the production as a
a whole, notice:.
Ist. The inimitable and astounding skill
of Solomon as a rhetorician, as an artist in
words. This little piece of composition
alone would have made any man immortal.
He has no peer in lipman literature.
2d. Notice his profound knowledge of Ihe
demaeds of human nature. The intellectual
element calls for plain statements that can
be clearly understood. The sensibilities
call for that which will assuage the severity
of the purely literal; and the sacred writer
breathing the spirit of poetry into every
line, meets every demand, excelling the
| scientist iu exactness and equalling a Se
raph in tenderness.
3J. Notice his scientific knowledge.
Anatomy is not one of the recent sciences,
it is an old sciei.ce revived. Two hundred
and fifty years ago Harvey, in England dis
covered the circulation of the blood, and the
world was startled by his announcement.
But Solomon had known all about it three
thousand years before. We are elsewhere
told that he wrote an extended treatise on
botany, describing every plant “from the
cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop that
spriugetli out of the wall,” and also a trea
tise on zoologry, deesribiug every beast ana
fowl, and creeping thing, and tho fish of
the sea. His philosophy was spoken in
three thousand proverbs, and his poems
were a thousand and five.
4th. Notice finally, Ilia affecting appeal to
youth. He describes to them that old age,and
that final catastrophe to which they are has
tening as fast as time on its ceaseless,tire!esß
wiugs can waft them. He puts before
them, in colors glowing enough to startle,
and subdued enough to be inviting, the
decrepitude, the imbecility, the listlessness
the nervelessnoss, the sorrows, the pains of
the evil day, when even the grasshopper
should be a burden ; and lastly, of the fiual
end, aud of the funeral, and the grave and
the dust, and of the immortal soul, and of
judgment and of God, and by all these things
lull of soul-stirring solemnity, he beseeches
them not as a mass, but one at a time, say
ing :
Remember now tiiy Creator in the
days of thy youth. Remember that he is
your Creator. Remeralier that you are,
therefore, responsible to him for the life he
has given you. Remember that you are
under supreme obligations of gratitude, rev
erence, obedience and love. Remember
that time is short and that death is certain.
Remember, that when old age shall over
take you, which it will do apace, your fail
ing power will incapacitate you loan radical
change ot life. Remember that God will
bring every work into judgment with every
secret thing, whether it be good or whether
it be evil. Remember all this. Remember
it now—uow while you have the opportu
nity. Give your hearta to God now while
they are young and fresh, and,at leaat, com
paratively pure. Wait not for the evil day,
but remember now thy Creator, in the morn
ing of life, and at its midday He shall pros
per thee, and, when eveuing comes, thy sun
shall set on a sky that is cloudless.
She
lateraationai Sunjay-Sclool Lessons.
Lesson ll January 12,1879.
TUB DCDHMTION—Fzra tI : 14-29.
b. c. 515.
CONNECTION.
Shalinanezer 721 B. C., conquered Samaria,
and put an end to the Kingdom of Israel, car
rying the peoplo captive to Assyria. Their
places were filled by colonists from Media and
Assyria, who, in process of time married Isra
elitish women who had been left behind.
These people were afterwards called Samari
tans. When these Samaritans heard that
Zerubbabel was building the temple they
requested that they might be permitted to
assist. This Zerubbabel and his companions
declined. Angry at this refusal these men
used every ineaus in their power to hinder the
Jews in their work. So effectual was their
effort that the year after the foundation was
laid all the work on it ceased, and was not
resumed for fourteen years. This was the
beginning of the feud between the Jews and
Samaritans, which lasted for centuries, and
resulted in buildi.g a temple on Mount Geri
zin. In tho second year of tho reign of Darius,
B. C., 520, the buildiug of the temple at Jeru
salem was re commenced and B. C., 515 it was
completed.
OUTLINE.
I. The completion, v : 14-15.
11. The dedication, v: 16-18.
111. The passover, v; 19-22.
ExroetlON.
I. The completion.
V. 14. “The elders,” Zerobbabel, Joshua
and others. “Builded.” Resumed building.
“Through the prophesying.” Those prophets
were God’s messengers to arouse the people to
the work. “ Ilag’-ga-i ” prophesied in the
year B. C., 520, and Zecharish two months
later in the same year. Compare llaggai i: 1
with Zech. i: 1. They reproved the Jews for
their neglect of God’s house and encouraged
them to earnest work to rebuild. See espe
cially Hag. chap. 1, and Zech. chap. 8. “ Son”
or grandson of Iddo. They builded acoording
to the commandment of the God of Israel in
Ex. 25 to 30. “Of Cyrus.” See chap. 9: 1-4,
“and Darius,” chap. 6: 8-10. “Arlarxerxes.”
Same as Darius, it being a title of Persian
kings, as Pharaoh was of Egyptians.
V. 15. “The month Adar.” The twelfth
Jewish month, andcorresponding to the latter
part of February and the first part of March
with us. “Sixth vear, * * of Darius.” B.
C. 515.
11. The dedication.
V. 16. “ The children of Israel.” Those be
longing to the ten tribes who had returned with
the Jews. ” “ The rest.” Those of the tribes
of Judah and Benjamin. “ The dedication.”
Devoting the house to God. “ With joy.” A
national thanksgiving.
V. 17. “Offered.” Burnt-offerings and
peace-offerings. Contrast this offering with
that at the dedication of Solomon's temple, 1
Ki. 8: 62-64. “For a sin-offering,” a sym
bolic expiation for tha whole nation. It said;
We are guilty and our lives are forfeited. It
denoted that remission of sins was obtained by
the shedding of blood. So they dedicated
with confession of guilt and with thanksgiving,
while they symbolized the coming sin-ofler
ing, our Lord Jews. Both the kingdoms of
Israel and of Judah had been destroyed, and
though most of the returned exiles were of the
tribes of Judah and Benjamin, yet many be
longing to the other tribes had availed them
selves of the permission of Cyrus to return.
The twelve tribes were once more one people.
Wc must not, however, assume that repre
sentatives of every tribe were actually present.
V. 18, They resume at once regular
worship. In the time of David the whole
number of priests was divided into twenty-four
classes or families, each being required to
attend at the temple in succession for one
week. 1 Cliron. 24: 1-18. Thus each course
was actually employed only one week in
about six months. The change of one class
for another took place on the Sabbath. At
the time of the dedication of the new temple,
twenty of the old families were found without
representatives, and it was therefore necessary
to make anew diatribution in order to get the
twenty-four classes. David divided the I,e
vites into four great classes. The Ist assisted
the priests; the 2d were officers and judges
throughout the land ; the 3d were porters and
the 4th musicians. The first class was divided
into courses which followed each other, each
performing ssrvice one week. See 1 Cliron.
xxiii: 3-6. Although David thus divided
1 the Priests and Eevites, Moses had assigned
to them their rights and privileges. See
Nunt. 3: 6-49.
111. The Passover.
Y. 19. The temple was finished on the
fid day of the 12th month, and the exact
time commanded by the law (Ex. xiiixxvi)
for keeping the Passover was the 14th day of
the 2nd month, or early in April. This was
the first of three great festivals in order of
him alter the dedication, and this the nation
now kept. It was called the Passover because
the Lord passed over the dwellings of the
Israelites when he smote the first-born of
the Egyptians, Ex. xii:.\xvii. It was called
also theFeastof Unleavened Bread because
only unleavened bread was eaten during its
continuance. Ex. xihxv. It lasted seven
days. Ex. xii:xviii. A lamb was killed
and eaten by every family, and was typical
of Christ, the Lamb of God.
V. 20. “Purified.” Cleansed according
to the method mentioned in Numbers viii:-
6-15. “Killed” by the Levites. In early times
the head of each family killed the lamb for
his own family. Afterwards it became tbe
custom for each man to bring his lamb to
the priest to he killed, commencing it
would seem at the great Passover of Htz
ekiah, IlChron. xxxixvii. \. 21. “All such
as had separated themselves.” Probably de
scendants of Jews who had not been car
ried into captivity, and who had fallen into
heathen practices. They now renounced
heathen worship and heathen social customs,
and their heathen wives. Sec Nell. x:2B 30.
“Filthiness.” Idolatry, so-called becauseof
the moral and ceremonial pollutions con
nected with it.
V. 22. “Tbe king of Assyria.” Darius.
Assyria had been conquered by the Medes,
and bad thus become part of the Medo-Per
sian empire.
PLAN OP TEACHING.
Let the class read the passage, each mem
ber getting out for himself the great divis
ions . (See Outline.) Relate to the class the
connection as given above. Fix the year in
which the buildiog jvas finished aud show
how many years had elapsed between laying
the foundation and finishing the temple and
why. Let your scholars tell all they can
about the dedication. Do the same us to
the I’assover, keeping especially to the ac
counts given in the lesson, both ol the Ded
ication and of the Passover. Make all your
instruction bear Oa this point viz : that all
who desire to be God’s people must serve
Him in the way He has commanded.
OBITUARIES.
CRANE.—Died, on tho 23rd of November nit.,
at her rcsirlenoe, in Wilkes oounty, Ga., Mrs.
Patsy Crane, at the advanced age of eighty-foar
years She and her husband,Mr. Joshna R.Craue,
whom she leavos behind, had lived together
sixty-nine years. She was a Baptist for a great
while, and an exemplary Christian. She has
gone to her reward. B. M. 0.
ARNOLD,—Died, at her resmence, in Wilkes
couuty, Ga., on the 6tli of December, Mrs.
Eunice Arnold. She was about seventy-nine
years of age,aud had been a member of tho Bap
tist church at Sardis, in said county, more than
fifty years, having joined in July, 1828. Hav
ing lived the life of a Christian, she died in hope
of a bleesed immortality. B. M. C.
Elder J. A- Pros tori.
Died, in Paris, Texas, Nov. 4th, 1878, of ty
phoid feyer, Elder J. A. Preeton, in the forty
seventh year of his age. Thus liaspassed away
to the region beyond the stormy land, a spirit
just, generous, noble aud true. Ho was born in
Walton county, Georgia, in 1832 ; baptised in
Washington, Georgia, iu 1856, iu a meeting con
ducted by Roy. T. C. Toasdale. D. D. Rev. 11. A.
Tuppor, D.D., Pastor of the Baptist church iu
Washington at that time, and now Correspond
ins Secretary of the Southern Baptist Conven
tion, baptized him.
He studied Theology in Mercer University,then
located at Penfield,Georgia, uuder tho tuition of
l)r, W. W. Williams. Dr. N. M. Crawford, being
President.
In January. 1860, he was ordaiuelto the min
istry in Washington,Ga., and iu March follow
ing he was united iu marriage to Miss Cornelia
C. Davis, her brother-in-law, Rev. T. J. Bowou,
officiating. On the 18th of the same mouth they
left Georgia for the Indian Territory, he being
sont out as missionary by tho Georgia Associa
tion. The wr broakmg out tho follownig year
they returned to Georgia. Again 1872 they re
turned to the Indian Territory nuder appoint
ment of the same body. Ho was there two years,
and failing in a support for his family, he settled
in Paris, Texas, Lamar county, about twenty
miles off tho dividing line between the Territory
and Taxas, whore he opened a school. It was
with regret that ho relinquished his field of la
bor and only after fair trial. He continued to
preach to various churches until his death, serv
ing several churches at various times as pastor
or supply. In the Ited River Association he was
highly respected and influential, and did more
than any other man to mantain by fearless ex
position of Bcriptural teaching the purity of her
churches. ll# devoted himself to teaching os
a means of living, and purchased the “Shiloh
Academy,” six miles west of Paris, where he es
tablished a High School early in 1877, A month
before bis death he returned with his family to
Paris, hoping the change would benefit him.
Elder J. A. Preston was a true man and Chris
tian gentleman. His nature was frank, strigbt
forward and outspoken. He knew principle
only, not policy. Ho was affectionate, quiet,
impulsive, ardent, faithful and true. These are
not hap-hazzard adjectives, unweighed in their
meaning or misapplied in their bearing. They
are inspired in the writer by a brotherly fidelity
on the part of the deceased, in corroding faults
and encouraging in the right. He never fawned
for favors, but lived pre-eminently for the puri
ty of Zion. He never swerved from what he
considered duty for fear, favor or affection. He
was a|model husband and fat her,as well as sound
theohgian and able Bible expositor. He was a
Baptist on liible ground. Hoary customs and
denominational usage held no place iu Ins pol
ity or practice. The Bible was his authority iu
matters of religion. Few men sustained purer
lives. He died as he had lived, in full faith of
his acceptance with Christ. From the beginning
of his sickness ho despaired of recovery, and only
regretted leaving his family whom ho loved with
fervent tenderness to mourn his loss. On the
very first day of lilts illness he called his boys to
his bedside, reminded them of how he had tried
to raise them, told them his career was almos .
ended, and committed their mother to their care.
When he saw her weeping ha said : “Don't weep
for mo, there is not a cloud that darkens mv
horizon—not a shadow between me and Jesus.'’
He sent for his castor,Elder John James,arrang
ed for his own funeral, and oven for this obitu
ary, and expressed himself as having joyful an
ticipations in view of doath On Sunday bo
clasped his wife's hand, aud whan asked by her
what he wanted, replied: ‘Only to press your
hand and say good bye.” When Bhe asked.
“Oh what will wo and > without you?” he an
swered : “God will take earo of you.” At times
he was in a very happy frame of mind, and
would repeat part of the 23rd aud 4Gth Psalms,
dwelling particularly upon the last verse of the
latter : “The lord of liosts is with us; the God
of Jacob is our refuge."
He leaves a wife aud six children, the three
older ones being faithful members of the church.
As Jesus left his mother to Juhu, so he left his
wife to his sons. His trial of leaving thorn was
a trial to his affections, not to his faith. Thus
has passed from the earth a missionary whoso
name deserves to be onroiled in the aiiuals of
our Baptist Zion along with the names of Jtid
son aud Cary, aud others iu tho far east, and
those of Buokner and Murrow and others iu
the near west. Iu him was exemplified the lines
of a recently deceased poet.
"He so lived, that when death's summons camo
to join
Tha iunnumerable caravan that moves,
To The pale realms of shade, whore each shall
take
Ilis chamber in the silent hails of death.
He wont not, like the quarry slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and
soothed
By an unfaltering trnst, approached the grave,
k 8 ou® who wraps tho drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.”
T _ _ —S. A. Ilayden.
Jefferson, Tex., Nov. 8, 1873.
CLARKE.—Our venerable and beloved
Christian bro., Jas. Clarke, fell asleep at his
home in Atlanta on the afteruoonof the T2th
iustaut, at the ripe age of four soore years,
“coming to the grave in a full age like a
shock of corn cotneth in his season.”
B'-other Clarke was born in Putnam coun
ty, Georgia, August 28th, 1798. He was
educated under tiie care of the distinguished
Dr. Church, (after wards President of Frank
lin College), read law in the office of Judge
Strong, and graduated from the celebrated
law school of Litchfield, Connecticut. His
kinsman, the Hon. Mark A. Cooper, and
himself, were at the same time admitted to
the bar iu the city of Augusta, and a copart
nership was at once formed between them
for the practice of law in Eatonton.
In 1828, Mr. Clarke married Miss P. TANARUS,
Wellborn (sister of the late Hon. M. J.
Wellborn, of Columbus; and in 1837, he re
moved to Lumpkin, Stewart county, where
he continued actively in the practice of his
profession. The unusual legal acquirements,
stirring energy and high principle which he
brought into his business in that new and
rich county, soon commanded remarkable
success, and in a few years he was able to
retire from the active duties of his profes
sion, to devote himself to planting, the ed
ucation of his children, and the religious in
terests of Southwest, Georgia. Only on one
occasion cau lie lie said to have forsaken the
retirement he lovtd—which was when he
was called to serve in the great Union Con
vention of 1850.
In 1859, he removed to Atlanta, a reason
able competence enabling him to live in
comfort, and to cultivate injquiet retirement,
the mental and spiritual graces which made
his life a blessing to his family, to society
and to tbe church. He was honored bv be
ing permitted to live to sou bis children of the
third generation gather about him.
His death was most merciful. During his
last day on earth he converted freely and
cheerfully with his children—all of whom
were ut his bed side, about his approaching
departure, his heart being full of the love of
Christ and the precious promises of the
Bible. Ilis last words were: “We know that
if our earthly home of this tabernacle were
dissolved, we have a'buildingot God, a house
not made with hands, eternal, in tbe heav
ens,” and so, with a smile on his face, he
passed away.
“The end of this man is peace.” A most
excellent and tender funeral discourse was
preached by Dr. H. 11. Tucker, in the Second
Baptist church on Saturday the 14th instant,
from the text brother Clarke had himself se
lected—John xi:2s; “lam the resurrection
and the life,” etc. He was buried according
to hisrequest in a wooden coffin. About 25
relatives followed the remains to the grave
The fife of this good man was a success
rounded and complete. Acute and broad in
intellect, modest and courtly in manner,
sagacious and brave in action, true and firm
iu principle. Brother Clarke was among the
few.nohle men remaining of a generation fast
passing away. His faith in Christ was hum
ble, sincere and vital, with large culture and
great fondness for pure literature. The Bible
was to him the Book of books, the inspira
tion and truth of which could not be ques
tioned in his presence. Its divine principles
enlightened and guided him through life, and
made him eminently a just man. For the
death of such a man, under such circum
stances, there is occasion for no personal
grief. His high example remains to ani
mate those who follow after him, so that,
when the dread hour comes, we may
“Not sore distressed,
Bat folding life’s dull garb away, '
Lie down in peace to wait the coming day,
And fiad our rest.”
fission fDqhuttucnl.
STATE ITIISSIONS.
Rev. J. H. DeVot'o, D.D., Corresponding Beo
lotary. Post offioi— Atlanta, care of The In
dex.
Hon, Jno. H. James, Treasurer, Atlanta.
Missionaries of the State Mission Board.
Rev. T. C. Boykin, Sunday-school State Evange
list.
Rev. J. H. Campbell, D,D., Columbus Factories,
and Columbus Association.
Rev. \V. D. Atkinson, Black shear and Piedmont
Association.
Rev. D. G. Daniel, Walthourville and Sunbury
Association.
Rey. E L. Vaughn, P. O. Cliauncy, Brunswick
Railroad.
Rev, Alfred Cone, P. O. Blairsvilla.
Rev. W. J. Morecock, P. O. Forsyth, Rohoboth
Association.
Rev. Edward Bailey, between Brunswick and
Florida lino.
Itov. J. R. Fields, Houston Association.
Rev. T. C. Tucker, Dale county, Coosa Associa
tion.
Rev. A. C. Ward, Brunswick City.
Rev. C. H. Htilweli, Cave Springs and Oostana
ulla' Association.
Rev. D. H. Moore, P. O. Knoxville, Rehoboth
Association.
Rev. J. M. Wood, Flint River Assoc.all on. and
Evangelist.
Rev. J. H. Corley, Evangelist and, Superintend
ent Colored Mission.
Rev. G. B. Mitchell, Messenger to Freedman.
Rov. I. W. Lauier, Ogeechoe Dot riot Union
Association etc.
Rev. E. K. Love, Colored Evangelist to Freed
men.
Rov. Collins Lyons, Sunday-school Evangelist
to Freedmeti.
Rev. J. C. Bass, Bethel Assoaiatioa, Evrly and
Miller counties.
Rov. I. J. Peeler, Mt. Vernon Association.
dtev. J. J. Pepkin, Mt. Vernon Association.
dtev. J. M. Wood, 24 Mt. Vernon Association.
Forelgu missions.
Bov. C. M. Irwin, Agent for Georgia. Poat-offieo
Atlanta, care of The Index.
llev. tl. A. Tupper, Corresponding Secretary,
Bichmond Va.
Home Hlaslonis.
Bov. Wm. H. Mclntoh, D.D., Corresponding
Secretary, Marion. Ala.
Bov. W. N. Chaudoin, Agent for Georgia, At
lanta, care of Tits Index,
Aged aud Indigent Ministers’ Board.
Bev. A, J. Bock, Chairman, Milledgeville, Geor
gia. —tf
A Sudden Heath.
There is something terrible iu the thought of
having our friends stricken down at our side,
without a parting word of endearment or oottso
lation—one moment at our side in the flush of
vigorous life, cheering our hearts with their
loving sympathy; tho next at our feet, pale with
doath, deaf to our cries and heedless of our
tears. Every excessively fat person Is in instant
danger of such a death. Seven-tenths of the
victims of obesity die of heart disease or apo
plexy. Allan’s Anti-Fat, the only remedy for
obositv, reduces tho weight by regulating tho
and igestion and assimilation of tho food. It is per
fectly harmless-and its use will insuro, iu every
instance, a rftdllflttoitstf weight from two to five
l pauudg a weAk.
3