Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

F. R. FILDES, Editor. VOL. VI. AMICUS’ LETTER,. No. VII. The reader may hare hastily come to the conclusion, that tho argument of my three last letters are mysterious and heterodoxies), inasmuch as I insist that there is no such a being as a Batan, a devil, a living, moving representative of the great principle ot evil; and then to assert that there was and is a neces sity for a Savior, a redeemer, and that . Christ came to earth to redeem and save a world of that be lived, died, and was resurrected to accomplish the Divine plan. Just here I anticipate the reader’s inquiry: What was the necessity of a Savior’s long life of sor low and painful death, and resurrection, J if there is no Satan—for without a satan, j there can he no punishment in the future j world? Having asserted repeatedly that there is no such being, and having clearly shown that your own scriptural; evidence utterly fails to establish his existence, I can safely agree with yon, that there is no punishment beyond the gravo. If we search the law given by God to man, in the garden, we find the penally threatened, to follow the act immediately, to wit: In the day thou catest thereof thou shall surely die. In God’s direct dealings with man, there is not an instance of record where any punishment was threatened beyond the I grave. In the first sad scene of death : ' on earth, the unprovoked and unmitiga- 1 ted fratricide that brought to earth the Judge and executive of the universe, to avenge the evil done, the same God That subsequently said to man, t ven geance is mine and I will repay, fTro nounced the sentence when and where it was to be executed: Gen. iv, 11, 12 — “And now art thou cursed from the earth, which hath opened her mouth to receive thy brother’s blood from thy hand.” When thou tillest the ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her strength; a fugitive and a vagabond shall thou be in the earth.” Was the punishment a sufficient expiation of the crime? II not, who dare to increase it? | Man dare not, for God said, “whosoever! slayeth Cain vengeance shall bo taken j on bim seven foldto wit: seven times | the amount of punishment Cain iiad to ! endure. Did God deal with duplicity! towards Cain? Did he only announce a jortionofthe sentence and reserve a! portion to be executed in another world, j without notifying Cain of the dread I consequences that awaited him there, ! without any means being provided, and j being made known to him whereby he j might avoid it? Hero we have God's positive decree; is it defective? By what authority do wo attack il? And j by what authority do we propose to j amend the recoid of tfrcl supreme Judi j catory? Isn’t it too manifest to admit of argument, that God intended a tem poral punishment for the temporal of fense? Isn’t it manifest that he did not intend an eternal punishment, from the declaration: “Whososlayeth Cain ven geance shall be taken on him seven fold”? If so, then the slayer of Cain would have suffered seven fold tempor ally, and seven eternities after death. I have no hesitancy in asserting that there is no such thing as endless pun ishment after death. Taking this nega tive position, I insist that the affirma tive cannot be sustained; that the posi tion is untenable; that it is not founded in justice or reason; that there is noth ing in nature or revelation to justify each a conclusion. Th> re is no proof positive, presumptive, or inferential, to bring us to the conclusion, that Gi and is Vindictive aud unjust. It is an iniqui tous libel against our maker, God, and the grossest infidelity to Jesus Christ, I Who lived and died’for us. Don’t mcr-, cy forbid it; and where, iu the great j principle of justice, do yon find it, and in what difficult and intricate portion of the law do you discover it; in what nook or corner in the temple of reason is it bid away, that he who honestly searches for it can’t find it? The truth is, in none of these is it to be found. Was the pun ishment provided and decreed belore man’s creation? If so, where is the jus tice in bringing ns into existence, so or ganized, constituted, and temporised,j that it is almost impossible for us to es cape it, upon your theory. How can there be justice in creating ns, subject to temptation, placing us in a world' Bnrronnded by vice and folly, and then ! send a devil, educated in Heaven, with all the native and acquired elocution of tho Angelic world, to win us from good ; to evil, from virtue to vice, from weal to woe, from peace and joy to misery and sorrow; from the bliss of a heaven, to the tortures of a hell; from tho associa tion of angels to companionship with de mons? If your God has treated you thus, for what do you love him? Why ask me to love such a God? lam human | and cannot. And if I believed these to |be the characteristics of God, and tell j you with my dying breath that I loved i him, I would die with a lie on my unhal , lowed lips. Was the pit dug and the j fire kindled after man's transgression jto inflict the penalty? If so, it does not apply to Adam’s transgression, for jus tice ignores an ex post facto law. I j wish I knew which position theologians take; whether the law in reference to endless punishment was in existence at ihe creation of man or not. If it was in existence, the penalty cannot, injustice, be enforced, because it was not known to Adam. If it was not in existence thdn, it is not God’s law, for his laws ate from all eternity, unchangeable, irn mnliblc. It was not my purpose, nor was it in accordance with my plan, to show the inconsistency' ot the doctrine of endless punishment, in this letter, but to reason upon the necessity cl the Savior’s advent into the world, the purpose of his life, his death, and resurrection. But the reader will perceive that the digression was almost inevitable and will therefore pardon it We h aye heretofore agreed with the theologians’as to the historical fact ol the Savior’s advent, his life, death, and resurrection. And.have also announced, that we differed wish them, as to what was to be accomplished in tho Divine plan, by' the life, death, and resurrection of the Savior. And just here, I will no tice what I conceive to bo the absurdi ties of the theology ot the day", in refer ence to the Divine plan of salvation. Their first position is that man was last, spiritually, by what they denominate the disobedience and fall of Adam, and that a'! tho race of mankind was con demned spiritually for the act of one. And to rescue man from that inherited condemnation, a Savior, the God incar ! nate, must needs die to save their souls from hell; and must be resurrected in order that man might be resurrected This is their theory on this subject. | Tliis is what is promulgated from the pulpit, and inculcalted, and indoctrina ted, and interwoven into the delicate | fibres of weak and simple minds. This |is the plan of their God, —not mine, i Sucli a theory does not asci ibe to God j infinite wisdom, but impliedly charges him witli aii overt act of imbecility and j the grossest fantacy of a lunatic. llow ! can such a plan be regarded by rath nal I and intellectual Icings, as perfect, or i even within the pale of the perview ol reason. Here is a synopsis of your the ology: God made man immortal, hypotheti cally; lie might die if lie chose to. God made man for his own glory; but in or der that the omnipotent I cart might grieve, and the Infinite mind repent, because he did make man, lie improvised a devil, in tlso shape of a serpent, en dowed him with Heavenly logic, and with seductive, bewitching and seraphic elocution, that he might deceive and mislead a man, made by God for his own glory, and thereby pervert the ob ject of Deity; and that God’s infinite de cree of man’s immortality might lie re voked, liy the deceit ol Satan and the act of man. Your theology further teaches us that God made a man, impro vised a devil, and therefore poor man is in a most inextricable difficulty. But the excellency if your theology pursues him, and teaches us that God in his in finite wisdom and mercy, opened Hie gates of Heaven, and provided a hypo thetical escape from Hell. Arid you, iu your exceeding benevolence, teach us the Divine scheme, and how it was ex ecuted. Here is your plan, God Incar nate died that man, who, by bis works are justified, might be saved from Hell. Now, tbe logical conclusion from the analysis of your theory, is that the for bidden fruit did not only deprive man of his immortality, but crucified Incarnate Omnipotence. Tbe couverts to this faith and theory, are your converts, not God’s. God's convcrtions are from the lovo of the world to the love of God. Your con verts go to Heaven, not from love and gratitude to God, and not particularly because it is a place of happiness, but because they are Hell-scared, and afraid of fire, I have been told by many of HERE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE’S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNA WED BY PEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN. QUITMAN, GEO. a SEPTEMBER 22, 1871. your pet saints, that if they believed there was uo Hell, they would not cate what they did. I wish to say to all such mistaken Christians, that they are not saved—they have not realized tho efficacy of the plan of redemption. Have you studied the plan of salvation from what you are to be saved, and how it is to be done? Oh, yes, jon understand it. And right here, with your face lengthened and your eye balls protrud ing, tortured to death in anticipation, you exclaim, I must bo lost in Hell, or saved iu Heaven. Now, reader, I propose to give you the Bible theory, as I understand it, and let you draw the contrast. God made man mortal, and man must die. God made man for his own glory, and in his creation lie will be glorified, for every knee shall bow, and every tongue shall confess his name. Man became wise, by what scented to be an act of disobe dience, but in reality it was in strict conformity to the will of his maker. If it was not IT is will, then there most be another will, and another power, supe rior to his, some where in the universe. He must have been the governing cause, or there must be some other gov eruor that snatched from him the scep tre of his dominion, and wields the su pterne power of the universe. My God says he governs all tilings agreeable to tho counsel ol his own will. Isay he governed Adam’s inclinations and con duct, and the result of Adam’s act was in stfict accordiyice with his will, or the Bible is a fable.* lUiejjovcrned Adam’s conduct and Adam id his will, tbero is no justice in damning him. God never made a devil and empowered him to ins llticncc his creatures to pervert his will. Man learned good and evil at the same time, and is as praiseworthy for the dis covery of good as he is censurable for tho discovery of evil; and is jusl as criminal for the act by which ho pos sessed himself of the knowledge of good and evil, as the moon is for reflecting the rays of the sun. Jesus Christ did not die to save souls from endless Hell, nor did the resurrection of matt depend upon his resurrection. Man’s soul was never, under any Divine law, a subject of endless punishment. Hit resurrec tion was just as certain before Christ’s resurrection as it was afterwards. Do you not see that the execution of these plans, originating in the Divine mind, did not, nor could not, depend upon mortal contingcnces? If they did, there is no distinction between Infinite and finite plans. I think I have laid down the basis of your theory as you preach it, and mine as I belie ve it; and I foci confident that the whole tenor of the scriptures, sustains my views, and iu no wise sustains yours. And here the issue is made up. Now for tho purpose of Christ’s ad vent, life and death. First, he came to live, to accomplish one purpose, and to die to accomplish auothcr. Neither one of which purposes is embraced in your theory. That the purpose of his life may be manifest to tho reader’s mind, we must concede that the human family had alienated themselves from God, by the love and practice of evil. That by the persistent practice of sin they had brought upon themselves its dread con sequences. They had departed from the holy principles of good and from God. The world of mankind had be come, morally, prostitutes and debauch ed; and God’s children were suffering the terrible consequences of their own acts —the had effects of theirown bad causes —the great principle of evil controled (hy tlie ascendency it had trained over then:) their every thought and action. There was no power within the grasp of their minds to lead them to tho paths of virtue and peace, and to enable them to resist the evils of their nature. They were children lost in the woods, away from their Father, God, and mother, Mercy. The piteous cry of their bewil derment in the wilderness reached the parent’s sensitive ear, and God in pity came down to live with them, to show them tbe paths of virtuo and to lead them to peace and joy, or, in other wotds, to point out the way of escape and the way of salvation from their sins. The language of the Savior is, “I came to save men from their sins.” llow did ho propose to do it? By the establishment of tbe kingdom of Heaven on earth, that they might come into it, npon the terms specified, there to receive Divine instruc tion, to enable them, iu the future, to avoid the consequences of evil,. Re- : dexnption and salvation arc two separate and distinct offices. Man was hopeless ly lost in sin, alienated from his fathers house, and knew not how to return. Ho knew no good. And when lie would have done good, lie was overpoweted with evil desires. The office ol Redeem er was to rescue man from the thraldom of iniquity, sin, and suffering, in this world, consequent upon his depravity. And then the office of salvation was to save him from sinning, in Christ’s king dom, on earth. Then the plan of redemp tion and salvation was and is complete. But all were not saved, and why? Will bo explained in the next. EVA, THE MASON’S CHILI). Chatter I. Faster and faster spread the flames, and now the ship was enveloped in a fiery sheet. Men and women rushed madly over tho side to seek a quicker Jhul less painful death. Tho boats, with one exception, had been over-loaded and capsized. There were hasty prayers, and heart rending ctics of misery and distress. Death hovered, vulture-like over his victims; some clung desperate ly to the vessel’s side, some supporting themselves in the water by articles snatched hastily from the burning ship, and with which they had leaped wildly into the sea. The Captain sang through his trumpet “take heart, and sustain yourself as long as possible. A ship is coining to our relief.” James Durant stood upon the almost deserted deck, with his only child, hut four years of ago, folded closclj iu his arms. His eyes swept tho horison in search of ti e ship to which the Captain had alluded. He discovered it at length hut it wap at least four miles off. Be fore the ship could arrive, they must be burned to ucath; or, if lie sprang as oth ers did down into tho water, both he and tho child would bo drowned, for he was not a swimmer. . The little arms were twined about his neck, the pale check rested confidingly against his own, but the brave child did not tremble. ‘O, my God, is there no help?' cried the doeparing father, as the flames swept nearer, and ho felt that his present po sition could he held but a little longer. ‘Hera, give the child to mo, and I will save her,’and turning quickly Mr. Du rant stood face to face with a stranger who held a life preserver in his hand. ‘Quick!’ there is no time to bo lost. The child can have my life preserver, and it will float her easily. Yonder is another ship; I have been watching it the past five minutes. It will reach us in half an hour at most. 'There, is that fastened securely. Now, liitlejgirl, lam going to throw you into the water. You are not afraid?’ ‘No, no, but my papal’ The father caught her frantically in his arms. ‘My darling Eva, you may never see your father again; hut do not fear—God will guard you, and somebody will find you and care for you. If you tiovor see papa again, remem ber he is in heaven with mama.’ ‘Has she no relatives?’ asked the stranger. Q • ‘None ill thy: country: I am from Eng land and am traveling for her health.’ ‘Take that, pin from your bosom and fasten,it to her clothing.’ ‘Heaven help you for the thought, said the father; and in a moment tho square and compass was glistening in the bos om of tho child and tho Blrangor took her from her lather’s arms, saying: ‘I am stronger than you; sho must be end beyond the reach of these poor drowning wretches, or they will rob her of her lilt preserver.’ The white drapery fluttered through tho air, ondsank below the waves; then rising, it floated, lightly upon the wa ter*. James turned to the stranger with tearful eyes: •May God bIeRS and preserve you, no blest of niett. But you and myself must bo lost.' ‘No, I am a good swimmer, and here is a p : cco of a board with which you can sustain yourself till relief arrives. The father cast another glance at the white speck floating rapidly away and with an inward “God preserve her!” sprang into the sea, followed by the stranger; but the two floated io differ ent directions, and they saw each other no more. Two hours later, James Durant a woke, as from the sleep of death and found himself in the cabin of a strange ship, with kind and sympathizing faces all around him. In a moment ho real ized all that had past, and said eagerly, though feeble: ‘My child, my iittlo Eva; is she safe?’ There was no response, and a low moan escaped the father’s lips. ‘Courage sir,’said a lady with tearful eyes, ‘some of the passengers were saved hy another ship.’ The father’s countenance lighted. ‘God grant that she nay be saved!’ Mr. Durant recovered his usual strength in a few hours, and sought a mong the saved for the stranger who had proven himselt so true a Masonic broth er, but he was not to bo found. ‘He must, be on the other ship,’said Mr. Durant, ‘and he will care for Eva.’ Both ships were at port in New York 1 tho following day, but although Mr. Du- rant found tho stranger who had be friended him, and who proved to be a Mr. Waldsworth, from a Southern city, Eva, had been seen by uo one, and was given up as lost. Chapter 11. ‘Here, wife, is a child that has just been washed upon the beach. She is not cold and stiff, but I think she is now dead. Let us have some warm flannels immediately, and tell Thomas to run for Dr. Hunt. It was long before the quivering lash es and feeble fluttering of the heart gave token that success would crown the ef forts ot Eva’s rescuers; but by-and-by, the lids parted, and revealed two large liquid sky blue eyes, that wandered front face to face in a bewildered way, and closed wearily. I fear she will not recover very rapid ly, said the doctor. She has a delicate constitution and will require the best of care.’ ’Poor child!’said Mrs. Turner, ‘ldo not wonder she is nearly dead, but who can she be? Some terrible accident must have occurred at sea.’ ‘You bad better examine her clothing,’ said tho doctor; ‘perhaps you may find some clue to Iter relations.’ Mrs. Turner lifted tho gossamer white dress, and turned it over and over. The square and compass placed by Mr. Du rant flashed npon all at once. The doc tor and Mrs. Turner looked at each other, but neither spoke, and Afrs. Turner did not notice tho tear that glistened in her husband’s eye. The doctor’s fears that Eva would not recover rapidly, proved to he well found ed; days and weeks of fever succeeded in awakening to life, during which she talked incoherently of “papa” and “poor dead mama,” and of tho “burning ship’,’ and of "hunger.” Sho finally awoke to conciousncss, and asked many questions as to how she came in that dark room, and who were those who attended iter, but Dr. Hunt forbade her being question ed until sho was stronger. Howiutereslod were all in the little con valescent whom the elements had cast into the little seaboard town 1 The ladies declared that never before did a child possess such lovely eyes, or such beauti ful curls; while the gentlemen seemed no less interested, and brought her gifts of everything that might please her child ish fancy. ‘My dear little girl,’ said Dr. Hunt, when Eva was at length able to ride out, ‘will you tell me your name?’ ‘Eva,’ said tho child, ‘I thought you knew it.” ‘Yes, I know your name is Eva, but I want to know the rest of your name— your father’s name.’ ‘Eva Durant, Mr Durant is my papa.’ ‘Yes, now I want you to tell mo all you can remember about your father and mother.’ Eva’s eyes filled with tears ‘Oh, sir, my mama died and went to live with the angels. And Ido not know where father is. He said if I never saw him again I must know ho had gone to mama.’ ‘Where were you when he told you this.’ ‘On the ship; and oh, the fire burned me so; and papa held nto in his arms un til a strange man took me aud tied some thing under my aims, and throw me into the water, and I have not seen papa since. 0, sir, can you tell me whore ho is?’ ‘No, dear child; but perhaps wo may yet find him.' And this was all that Eva’s new friend could discover. It was plain sho had come from the ship which had been burned a few weeks before; that she had been cast upon the sea and had floated up T.lthe shore; but where was her fath er? Had he been saved; and was lie searching for his chiid? Every pos sible effort was now made to find him. The circumstances of the case, with the statement of tho child, were published fully in the newspapers of the neighboring cities, but tho grief stricken father, believing his child to bo lost, had sailed a week before for Europe, and it soon became settled in the minds of Eva’s protectors, that he perished. But the little one still prattled about her ‘papa,’ and said he would come by-aud-by, and those who believed differently would not pain her by contradiction. Tbe square and compass that had been found upon her clothiug was regard ed as a powerful appeal front a Mason to his broth roil to care for his child. So it became to pass that Eva became as it were, tbespccial charge of Hiram Lodge, No. 93- Mr Turner would have gladly taken the entire care of tho little waif, and tho wealthy Senator W re quested to be allowed to adopt her as his daughter, but the brethren in tho Lodge assembled, declared by a vote that Eva should be reared, educated and protect ed by the Lodge, and that as providence had placed her in Brother Turner’s house, ■ that should be her home. | And so the years went hy, and Eva i became a healthy, joyous child, flitting | here and there, and everywhere meeting the warmest of welcomes. The Masonic | Hall was lut a few rods from Mr. Tur— j net’s residence, and Eva often went with j him as far as the door, and then returned alone, always bidding the Tiler “take | good care of Pa Turner and send him | home earty.” Chapter 111. | The six years that followed tho death of his wife aud the loss of his child,. [52.00 per Annum NO. 38 passed wearily to James Durant. Tie visited nearly every country in the Old World, socking among scenes of natural beauty and grandeur as well as historic interest for the mental rest, that could never be found. oace more ho turned his steps toward America and sought his Masonic friend, Mr. Wadsworth. Finding that gentleman about sotting out with his family on a journey to tho Atlantic coast, Mr. Durant accepted tho invitation to accompany them to Sara taga, and Niagara, then to New York, where, leaving the ladies, Mr. Wadi worth and Mr. Durant wandered from town to town along the coas£, enjoying the beauty of the scenery and the qnial hospitality that greeted thorn, more than the crowded hotels and tho fashionable styles of tho popular watering pliicoa. Fancy, and tho kind band of Providence, at length led them in the little town of I? , and the second evening alter their arrival they visited the Masonic Dodge. A warm welcome was extended to these Brethren from such distant homes, and both were invited to address the Dodge. Mr. Durant said: “Brethren:—l have traveled much and long. I have found Masonic sym pathy in every part of the globe, and everywhere is masonry substantially tho same. I can hardly toll where I reside. The world seems to be my home, as I remain but a slict time in any town or country, but my name is recorded in an English Dodge. I love my English Btethren, for they first brought me ‘from darkness to light,’ and I love English soil, for within it sleeps tho wife of my youih. But I love American soil also, for here have I found the warmest wel comes, the kindest of brethren. And too, my own child is sleeping in Ameri can waters, even beneath tho very waves that wash the shores of your beautiful village. “Six years have passed since this dear friend and brother robbed himself of his life preserver, that my little Eva might perhaps escape, and wo hoped the ole • meets might ho kind, and that Heaven would send her relief; but she was never heard of more.” The voice of Mr. Durant was quiver* ing with emotion, arid unable to speak further, he seat himself and' covered his face with his hands. Glances of surprise and pleasure wero cast from one to another among tho brethren of Hiram Dodge. No one spoke, however, but all eyes turned upon tho Master, Mr. Turner. For a moment ire seemed reflecting; then taking a slip of paper from tho Secretary, ho wrote: “Mrs. Turner—Do not allow Eva to retire until I return home; tell her I am going to bring a strange gentleman who* wishes to see her.” And calling the Jun. Deacon, Mr. Turner gave him the note, saying, in a low voice, “Take this to Mrs. Turner, immediately.” “Why, Eva,” said Mrs. Turner when she bad read tho message, “you are go ing to have compauy. A gentleman is at tho lodgo-roorn who wishes to sco you.” “Who can it be?” Eva looked perplexed and thoughtful; suddenly her cheeks flushed, her eyes lightened, and clapping her little hands, sire sprang to her feet and exclaimed:—• "Oh; it must be papal no one else would wish to see me; no one in the world;” and before Mrs. Turner comprehended tho child’s interpretation, she had passed the threshold, and was flitting through the moonlight toward tho lodge-room. The Tiler looked amazed when Eva burst into the ante-room, her cheeks burning', her eyes flashing with joy and excite ment. “Do not stop mi l I am going in 1” she exclaimed. But the inner door was fastened,, aud impatient Eva cried with vexation. “Wait a moment,” said tho Tiler, who having heard nothing of wlrat had trass* piled within, was at loss to account for the strange conduct or the child; “wait a moment and 1 will send your request to Mr. Turner. Ho will cotno out and see yon.” “1 shall not wait; Ido not want to see Mr. Turner: I want to see my papa.” “The child is crazy, that is evident,” said the perplexed Tiler to biinseif; but calling out one ol the deacons and bade' him to say that Eva was there and had determined to get into the lodge-room. The deacon went to the East, and de- livered his message in a low tone, and a moment afterward moved “that tho craft be called from labor to refresh ment.” “Now,” said Mr. Turner, “toll the Til er to let her come in.” And Eva did come, or rather bounded into the hail, more beautiful in her ex citement than ever before. She advanc ed to the center of the room and stood beside the altar; half noised upon ono tiny foot she scanned rapidly the faces of all. Her eager eyes soon detected the strangers, who* were seated beside each other, and for a moment she seem ed irresolute; then darting forward with' a glad cry, she throw her arms about tiro neck of Mr. Durant, crying, “Oh,- papa! my dear papal yon have come homo at lasts You were.not burned in* tjie ship?” We wifi not attempt to paint the Beene further but will leave our readers to im agine the joy of the fond father, and also' leave them to decide whether the tears that wet the checks of the «Brethren of | Hiram Dodge were caused by sympathy ! with the happiness of their little charge, jor grief that they should lose one whom’ they all loved.