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F. R. FILDES, Editor. VOL. YI. AMICUS’ LETTER, Ko. Vlli. tam not a believer in universal re demption and salvation; hence, I closed my last letter with the declaration, all are uot saved. But ’•emember, the issue Between me and theologians: 'l hey preach that men’s souls mnsl be saved from, or lost in Hell; I write, that men must be saved from, or lest in sin in this world. But it is insisted, that sin consists in the violation ot a Divine law, and consequently temporal punish ment is inadequate- That the law which lie violates is eternal, and that the pun ishment could only be temporal, in this world. It is true that sin is the viola tion of the Divine law; but that law, Divine as it is, was given to man to control his temporal actions, in a tem poral world. What is the Divine law? It is a rule t>f action, commanding what is right, and prohibiting what is wrong, based upon the general and universal principle of cause and edict. To wit: every act that man does, is a cause pro ducing its legitimate results. If his act, or cause, is good, good necessarily grows out of it; ami trace it back, and you will find that the good ofiect is the reward of the original act or cause. Hence, you are rewarded in this life for the good you do. (rice versa) If yonr act or cause is bad, it necessarily leads to evil consequences. And traced back yon find that the eff ct is the pen alty or punishment of lire act or cause. Now, if wc can be rewarded adequately for obedience to a Divine law i.i a tem poral world, why can we not be punish ed adequately in a temporal world for a violation of a Divine law? If the law is adequate in one sense, and inadequate in another, then it is not a Divine law. Have wo not daily evidences of the reward of good and the penalty of evil? W care commanded to woik ! and to him that seweth, ’tis said he shall reap, j There is the command obeyed,'and the reward of obedience. To him that sew eth not, neither sha'l he reap. There’s the disobedience: abject want is the penalty that follows immediately. In the perusal of Christ’s sermon in the mount, yon will perceive that blessings followed immediately meritorious acts. “Blessed are the poor inspirit: for theirs j is the kingdom of Heaven.” Poor in Rpirit, implies an act of the mind, that is recognized—your own spiritual pov erty. This recognition is the merit for which the kingdom of Heaven is given to yon, as a re ward of merit When do yon receive it? Immediately upon humbling yourself and becoming poor. What kingdom is ii? The king dom of Heaven established by Christ on earth. How do you possess it? By receiving its blessings through its edu cational facilith s. The kingdom is the great college, Christ is the Picsident, ond his true ministers constitute the faculty, that teach men the true doctrine of good, and the salvation of men from the consequences of their sins in this World. If a child be stolen and carried away, will not every resource be exhaus ted to reclaim it? Will not the whole country, yea, even a whole nation, rise op and sacrifice all to recover it? Yes, but that love is human; so it is, but God’s love is Divine. If humanity will sacrifice so much for one child, was the sacrifice of Divinity too great when a world of his children was lost in the woods, gropeing in darkness, suffering with wounds they could not heal, with diseases they could not cure, enduring penalties they could not avert to incar nate Divinity in the flesh, and send the messenger to point out to man the way of escape from his soriows and suffer ings in tliis world? Bat yoo say the sacrifice was too great, just to save meu from sin in this world. But he gave his cnly son to die to save a world from Hell. I deny that he gave his son to die to save men either from their sins in this world, or the pen alties of their sins in another world, but that he gave his son to live to save men from their sins in this world. How? By becoming roan—taking upon himself the frailties of our nature —suffering as we suffer—being tempted by the evils of this world as we are tempted—and teach ing us, by his life of righoousness, the predominent power of the spirit over the evils of the flesh; and to teach us that our spirits were immortal, and that the sweets of immortality might be tasted even in this life: and that their rewards would be greater or less according to their moral and intellectual attainments in this life. The first dawn of our ex istence is the beginning of our spiritual and intellectual eternity. The physical man begins and ends in one; but to the spiritual man time is the beginning of eternity. The spirit is the great prin ciple of life—a perpetuity of existence, an importation, ancmination.a scintilla tion from Divinity, and exists of and with God, from and to all eternity. It is of Gcd; it is God; it must return to the Gi>d that gave it. It was not to save it from death that Christ lived and suffered; but to enlighten it, that it might be happy here and happier here after. He taught his follower* their.own helplessness and their dependence npon God, and demonstrated it by his appeals to his father. He taught them lessons of humility, and demonstrated the unsel fish characteristic by his lowly walk and conversation. Ho taught them the noble characteristic of charity, and dem onstrated it in thousands of acts of be nevolence. If it was to die to save men’s souls, after death, to satisfy the demands of justice, by an expiation of man’s crimes—and it in his death man alone is benefited, why I've and suffer, as a man, to demonstrate these sublime truths? Then is it not manifest that lie lived to convince men of their sins, and by his example save them from their consequences? But now, as I have asserted that he did not die to save men from endless punishment, nor even to save them from ttieir sins in this world, you enquire, for what did he die? Answer : He died to be resurrected; that in his resurrec tion the sublime truth might ho made manifest to man, that though he die he shall live again. Is tho resurrection a truth? Isn’t it in accordance with the Divine law? If it is a truth, it is a Di vine and eternal truth; and is not subject to any contingencies to change it to er ror. Then, if true, it would have oc- curred whether Christ had been resur rected or not, or else art eternal truth would have changed to an eternal false hood. God from all eternity knew what would occur, and how it would occur. Man’s error was just as clear to the In finite mind as was his creation. One just ns much a fixed fact, a determinate truth, as the other. And the birth, life, death, and resurrection, of Christ, was a determined fact. The life, death, arid resurrection, of man was also a deter mined truth. These truths were inde pendent of, but co eternal with each other in the Divine mind. Here the cre ation of man evidence* the omnipotent decree of the result. Man being made lor God’s glory, the logical sequence is, that by man, could God bo honored and glorified, only by man’s acquisition of wisdom, knowing good and evil, llow could God be glo rified by man, if man knew no good? How could he know good except upon the eternal principle established in the Divine mind? But again, how could men be happy without any mental pow ers of appreciating good? How could he appreciate good, when he could not distinguish it from evil? How could he distinguish good from evil, when he did not know the existence of either? Hence, for God’s glory and man’s happiness, it was essential that man should be wise, knowing good and evil. How was he to obtain this knowledge?—by an act of apparent disobedience. These two great principles had to he demon strated to man. To demonstrate Ids goodness, God clothed his nakcdnrßs. To demonstrate the existence of evil, God expelled him from the garden and gave him a free and unrestrained agen cy to choose between the two. Man loved evil and sinned—lost sight of all good and God, to demonstrate more ful ly his goodness to man. Ho sent man a pilot, a teacher, an examplcr, in the person of Christ, to bring him back, learn him good and good's reward. Tbeee facts clearly demonstrate the ne cessity of Christ’s advent, and the pur . pose of his life. Now, for the necessity of his death a id the purpose of his resurrection. Man knew that he must die; he knew what death meant; he had seen man in its cold embrace—a lifeless inanimate form; he had seen him laid in the silent sepul chre, he had missed him from the home and social circle. His voice was silent, his chair was vacant, ho was gone. But could mau conceive an idea so grand, so sublime, so fiaught with interest, hap piness and joy, that though the body be dead and mouldering in sepulchrel darkness, that his spirit, with its human identity aud individuality—with all its moral and intellectual attainments— HERE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RI3HTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY FEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN. QUITMAN, GEO., SEPTEMBER 29, 1871. Kludes the tomb—survives decay— .■lnd lives in light—eternal day? Hence, the necessity of the death of a man t> demonstrate the great truth of man’s resurrection. Who was to per form that office?—the man, Christ Jesus, not God. If a God had been resurrec ted it would have been no proof of man's resurrection. It had to be one possess ed of all the elements and frailties cf linn attify, to wit: pain, and sorrow, stiflering and death, (butnot necessarily decay.) Christ, to all appearance, was man; but his flesh was not as our flesh. His flesh was the word—made flesh, he possessed the humanity of God, and the humanity of man. llis flesh, formed like man, enduted like God. Oor flesh was made mortal, subject to corruption. Ilis flesh was made immortal and conld not see corruption. His birth was not tho result of obedience to the carnal command to Adam—multiply and re plenish tho earth. If so, he would have been man only. But made In confor mity with tho Divine decree, tho seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head. To be plain, it is evident that lie was not a descendant of Adam in obedience to the carnal command and process of pro-creation, and why? Be cause he was made after the power of an endless life, llcb, vii, 14, 15, 10: "For it is evident that our Lord sprang out t f Judea: of which tribe Moses spake nothing concerning priesthood. And it is yet lar more evident: for that after the similitude of Malehisadeo there ariseth another priest. Who is made not after the law of a carnal commandment, but alter the power of an endless life.” These texts, with others, clearly prove that ho was made like man, but not as man; his flesh wab Di vine, ami t mpt from llie taint of cor ruption. But you enquire, if his flesh was immortal and could not see corrup tion, how docs his resurrection prove that mortal man, subject to corruption and dicay, will rise from the tomb again. It doesn’t prove it—but proves tbo con trary. It establishes the fact, that the spiritual man is the cxacl image of the physical man, and that the spiritual man Coil’d not sec corruption. Christ’s body was spiritual—made like unto man—not as man; but man’s spiritual body is like unto tbo body of Christ. Therefore it cannot sec corruption. Hence it is not of the earth, earthty, but a celestial body id purely celestia' origin. There fore the hour and article of death is the hour and article of the resurrection Karth returns to earth whence it was taken, and spirit to spirit that gave it. It is sown in weakness—it is raised in strength; sown in mortality, raised in immortality; sown in corruption, raised in incon option. When was it sown in weakness, mortality and corruption? When the sp’rit to k possession of the corruptable tenement. When is it taised? When the weak and mortal tenement crumbles into dust again. Man dietli and is no more. Certainly this is to the physical man, and not the spirit. Eclesinstcs ix, 5: “For the living know that they shall die; but the dead know not anything, neither have they any more a reward, for the memory ot them is foigotten.” The spiritual man, with his intellectual endowment, knows that tho body must die. Tho dead body knoweth nothing—neither hath it any reward. It has performed its office, aud in sweet forgetfulness of j human care, mingles again with its na tive element, no more to be disturbed. A Grave Affair.—A manufacturer of tombstones lately received a call from a countryman who wanted a stone to place over the grave of his mother. Af ter looking around for some t'me, and making sundry remarks about the taste of bis deceased mother, he finally pitched upon one which the stone-cutter bad ptepared for another person. “I like this one,” said he. "But,” said the manufacturer, “that belongs to another man, and has Mrs. Perry’s name cut on it; it wouldn’t do for your mother.” “Oh,yes, it would,’’said the countryman; “she couldn’t read! And besides,” he continued, as he observed the wonder ment of the stone-cutter, “Perry was always a favorite name of hers, any bow!” Influence of One Act, —One pound ol j gold may be drawn into a win- that ; would extend around the globe. So one good deed may be felt through all time, and cast its influence into eternity.— Though done in the first flush of youth, it may guild the last of a long life, and f rm the brightest and most glorious spot in it. A matron says there is more love in a flour barrel than in all the roses aud woodbine that ever grew. A KEEPER’S STORY. It was in the year 186-, that impel taut business called me from tho small town N to tho city of A , a journey of about twenty miles. When about half way between the two places, a rain storm overtook me, and made it necessary for me to put up for tho night. I accordingly drove into u farmyard and requested permission to slay through the night. My request was readily granted, and after seeing my horse prop erly cared for, I repaired to the house with my host, where a warm supper was awaiting us. Four rosy-cheeked chil dren were seated around the table, be side the matronly looking mother. After supper I drew tip to the fire to enjoy a smoke with my new friend. As the man lighted his pipe, I noticed a deep scar that extended across his hand. On asking him the cause of it, 1 saw my host and his wife exchange irlances, and noted a shadow flit across her handsome face. After drawing a whiff or two on his pipe, ho said: “There is a story connected with that scar that I shall never forget; and even now, ns I am sitting hero in safetj', with my dear wife and children around me, I cannot repress a shudder at what might have been.” On saying that I should like to hear the stoay, he commenced as follows: "I was formerly a night watchman in tho Insane Asylum over in A . I had been at my employment about two years, when the incident I ant about to relate happened. My wife and 1 had been married about a year, ands! e had tried to get mo to leave tho asylum, and find some less dangerous employment, as she termed it. 1 had laughed at her feat's, but as she seemed anxious about it, I had promised in one month more to do as she asked. The month had neatly expired; only one more night remained. I had to go on my watch at ton o'clock. On this particular night I was seized with a nervous fear of—l knew not what, but still I felt that something was about to happen. In vain I u.gned to myself (hut I had watched them two years, and nothing had happened, but argue as 1 would, that shadow still hung over me. I bad three galleries to go through, and on each side of these galleries were cells in which tho patients were confined. As I passed along. 1 would occasionally see some bony hands thiust through the grates, or acme poor fellow would rave at mo, accusing me of—ho knew what himself. As I passed into (he third gal lery it was with such feeling that I could hardly help turning and fleeing back to awaken some of the attendants; but, laughing at my idle fears, as I then termed them, I resumed my duty. Pass ing along, I became aware of an uncom mon noise in one of the cells in which a new patient 1.a.l been confined. I walked along and looked through the grates, but saw nothing out of the way, and was about passing along when an agonized groan passed from the lips of tho man on the straw in the corner—ho was one of iBo worst patients, and wo could not give him a bed to sleep on as be would tear it into pieces. I immediately un locked tho door and passed into his cell. I approached him, leaving my keys in the lock. As 1 stooped over him to see what was the matter, ite sprang to his feet, and before I knew what he was a bout, planted a stunning blow in my face, which sent me reeling into the far ther corner. The same time that he struck, he sprang past me through the door, and be'ore 1 could prevent him, had closed and locked it, making me a prisoner. Then picking up the lantern, which I had set on the floor outside, ho held it up and glared at me with his ter rible, bloodshot eyes, aud muttered: “I know where they put the big carv ing-knife, and now that 1 have got the keys, I will get it, and death will he your portion.” "Saying this, he started off, leaving me in the dark. He wag large and powerful, weighing nearly fifty pounds more than I did, and in his present state a match for two like me. In vain I tried to think ol some way of escape; there was none. The window was strongly grated; the door a dozen men like me could not move. I thought of my dear wife and darling innocent babe, and tears would come in myeyes in spite of all I conld do What would she sly when l was uorne a ghastly', bleeding corpse to the boose. Sometimes I would try to hope lie would forget me, and not come back, but reason told me better. I tried to pray, but instead of having my' mind on what I said, J was continually listening for his returning footsteps. At last they came, nearer and nearer, and as became in sight I noticed he carried a long carving-knife in his hand. As he approached the cell ho accidentally dropped the lamp, leaving us in darkness. A faint ray of hope pierced my mind. Could I not dodge out as he unlocked the I door? Nearer and nearer he came, and at last slopped at the door. I could hear him groping for the keyhole. At I last I heard him insert tho key and torn ! it, Drawing in a long breath, I nerved myself for the encounter, and as the door I opened, I made a spring at him, and ' Providence favoring me, caught him by collar. l’utting forth a desperate effort, ! I twitched him, and tripping him at the i same time, sent him to the further side l of the room. 1 immediately sprang out and was locking the door, when he rush ed to it, bin finding it locked, reached 1 through the grates aud with his kuife struck mo across the hand, while I was removing the key. As he went to draw back his hand, I seized it by the wrist and catching hold of the knife with my wounded, wrentched it from him. The next day I left the asylum for good, and have never been inside of one since. We bought this farm, and have lived here ever since; and, now, friend, you can judge, whether I_can ever look hack to that night without a feeling of hor ror. WAS SHYLOCK A .lEW? There are people who bcliovo that Shakespeare made Shylook a Jew in or der to pander to tho popular hostility existing at that day to tho Israelites. But, was Shylock—the Shylock’of histo ry, a Jew or a Christian? A correspon dent, (M. E. G.,) who takes'an interest in the query, writes as follows: “The affair took place in Koine in the time of Popo Sextus the Fifth—l have copied tho same verbatim from a work entitled —"History of Pope Sextus V.," page 401: It was currently reported in Rome, that Drake had taken and plundered St. Domingo, in Hispaniola, and carried off an immense booty. This account came in a private letter to Paul Sechi, a very considerable merchant in the city, who had large concerns in those pans which he insured npon receiving this news. Ho sent lor the insurer, Sampson Cone da, a Jew, whose interest it was to have such a report thought false, gave many reasons why it could rot possibly he true, and at last worked himself into such a passion that he said, “I’ll lay a pound of my flesh it is a lie." Such wa gers, it is well known, are often propos ed, by people of strong passions, to con vince others that are incredulous or ob stinate. Nothing is more common than to say, "I’ll lay my life on it.” I'll for feit tr.v right hand if it is not true.” Sochi, who was of a fiery, hot temper, replied, "If you like it 111 lay you one thousand crowns against a pound of yonr flesh, it is true.” The Jew accept ed the wager, and artio'cs was immedi ately executed between them, the sub stance of which was tiiat if Sechi won he should himself cut the flesh with a sharp knife, from whatever part of the Jew's hedy he pleased. Unfortunately for the Jew the truth ol the account was very soon after confirmed by' other advices from the West Indies, which threw him almost into distraction, especially when he was informed that Sechi had solemnly' sworn he would compel him to the exact literal performance of the contract, and was determined to cut a pound of flesh from the Jew’s body. Upon this lie went to the Governor ot Rome, and beg ged ho would interpose in the affair and use liis authority to prevail on Sechi to accept one thousand pistoles as an equiv alent for a pound of flesh; hut tho Gov- ernor, not daring to determine a case of so uncommon a nature, made a report to the Pope who sent for them Loth, and having heard the articles read and in - formed himself of the whole affair from their own months, said: "When con tracts are made it is just they should I e fulfilled, as we intend this shall. Take a knife, Sechi, and cut a pound of flesh from any part you please of the Jew’s body. We would advise you, however, to be very careful, for if you cut a scru ple, or a grain, more or less than your due, you shall certainly be hanged. Go and bring hither a knife and a pair of scales, and let it be done in our pres ence.” The merchant at these words began to tremble like an aspen leaf, and throwing himself at the feet of his Holi ness, with tears in his eyes protested it was far from his thoughts to insist upon the performance of the contract, and be ing asked by the Pope what lie demand ed, said, "Nothing, Holy Father, but your benediction, and tho articles may be tom to pieces;” then turning to the Jew, asked him what he had to say, and whether he was content. The Jew an swere I ho thought himself extremely happy to come off at so easy a rate, and that he was perfectly content. "But we are not content,” replied Sextus, “nor is there sufficient satisfaction made to our laws; we desire to know what authority you have to lay such wagers. The sub jects of prince are the property of the statj, and they have no right to dispose ol their bodies or any part of them, with out express consent of their sovereigns.” They were both sent to prison, and the Governor ordered to proceed against them with the utmost severity of tho law. Beyond Per Cent. —General Craft, one of our prominent lawyers, was hailed while passing Freeman’s jewelry store by the proprietor witli : “General, come in here a moment; we have something for yon to solve. If a man brings his watch to bo fixed, and it cost me ten cents to do it, ami I keep it a week, ami charge him six dollars, what per cent, do 1 make? VVe have been figuring, and make it nine hundred per cent, and have only got up to one dollar, now much and i you say it would bo at six dollars?” “Well,” replied (ho general, “I do not wonder at your perplexity; (or ii is well known, and tiio celebrated Rabbit calculating machine has demonstrated, that at certain points in progressive numbers the law governing thorn o'tan j ges. In this ease the law would change, : and long before it would reach the six j dollars it would run out of per ceut. aud into what is known as larceny." [52.00 per Annum NO. 39 DON’T LET MOTIIEH DC) IT. IIY CARRY ALTON. Daughter, don’t let mother do it f Do not let her slave and toll While you sit. a useless idler, Fearing your soft hands to soil. Don’t you see the heavy burthens Daily she is wont to bear Bring the lines upon her forehead— Sprinkle silver iu her hair? Daughter, don’t let mother do it I l)o not let her bake and broil Through the long, bright sumuter hours, Share with her the heavy toil; Fee her eyes has lost its brightness, Faded from her cheek the glow. And the step that once was buoyant Now is feeble, weak and slow. Daughters, don't let mother do ill She has cared for you so long, Is it right the weak and feeble Should be toiling for the strong f Waken from your listless languor. Seek her Hide to cheer and bless; And your grief will be less bitter When the sods above her press* Daughters, don’t let mother do it! You will never, never know What were home without a mother, Till the mother lieth low— Low beneath the budding daises, Free from earthly care of pain— To the home, so sad without her, Never to return again. A BLO 0 DTUIRSTY*VO.M AN. A woman named Agnes Nonnan, seems to have had extensive but peculiar expe rience in various parts of London. It appeared recently at U coroner’s inquest, that about a ycUr ago the child of a lady visiting in the house where Agnes was employed, was found dead in bed, under mysterious c'ifcufnstanCes. Iu ber next place, Agnes one day brought a child home insensible, saying that it lad fal len from her arms. The infant recover ed, and within three weeks she took it nut again and brougqt it back dead. In her third situation, a boy of seven awoke with a choking sensation, and afterward told liis father that Agnes hud placed her hand over his mouth and given him money to say nothing about it. At another house vvfiero she was employed, a child was found insensible in bed, and on recovering showed great terror at I her sight of the girl. At another, she lock ed a child up in a wardrobe, took it out and put it to lied, where it ttotf found dead shortly ,afterward , Birds and do mestic animals died suddenly and strange Iv as children in houses where she lived. Finally she was employed by the lamily of a Mr. Boer, who three days afterward, returning With his Wife front a dinner party, hcavd violent screams in the nur sery and rushed up stairs to find one child lying on the floor nnd another be tween the bed arid the waif, dead, Willi two compressed marks on ils lips. The verdict oftbo coroner’s jury was “Bcatli from suffocation, accidentially caused,” with which we read in the London pa pers,‘the father said be was dissatisfi ed.’’ Tbs case is to bo further investi gated. A mania for murder is a recog nized, though happily not a common form of mental disease. The case of a female nurse in one of the continental hospitals, who professed that she had been in the habit of killing her patient*/ witli do other rnotivo than an insane eagerness to see them die, is fresh in onr recollec tion. We are not prepared to say that women more frequently givo way to such horrible impulses titan men;- but we recall at this moment several instances given by tho books, iu cacli of which it was a woman who fi it tho inrtnne desire, and generally a child that she wanted to kilb Fever and Ague. —We find tho follow ing in tho Cleveland Herald: “Wo wish to gito a very simple remedy for fever ami ague, and emphasize it by say ing that it lias, to our knowledge, proved Very efficacious. It is simply common salt. A tabh'spoonful taken iu water, and a teaspoonful deposited inside tho stocking next the foot as the fever is coming on. That’s ail there is In it; but, knowing that it has been efficacious in "breaking” the Chili and perfecting a cure, wc put it in our editorial columns, where no humbug remedy shall ever find a place, if we know it.” "I wish I had yout head,” said a lady to a lawyer who had just solved a knot ty point for her < "And I wish 1 had your heart,” responded the lawyer. ft wans not long before the lawye r.s stead and the lady’s heart went into partner ship for life. A gentleman said to an old Indy who had brought up a family of children near the river, ‘ l should think you would live in constant fear that some of tlmm woo'd get drowned.” "Oh, no,” respon ded tiie old lady, "we only lost three or four in that way.” Trying to do business without Jadvcr tising is like winking at a pretty girl through a pair of green goggles. You may know what you are doing bnt no body else does ■■ An old bachelor recently gave the fol lowing toast: “Woman—the morning star of our infancy, the day star of man - 1, and the cv< ning star of age. Bless our stars, and nay they always be kept at telescopic distances.” A man whose wife hanged herself in his presence, on being asked why he did not prevent the tragedy, replied: "I cut her down three times last week, and I can’t be always cutting her down.”