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No. 23. Vol. 111. EDITED AND PUBLISHED I ‘m NATHAN S. S. BEMAN <$- CO. The Terms of “ The Missionary” are Three Dollars a year if paid in advance, or within sixty lays from the time of subscribing; or Three Dol ars and Fifty Cents at the end of the year. No Subscription will be received for a short r time than one year, and no paper discontinued util ipU arrearages are paid. Advertisements will be inserted, by the quare, at 62 1-2 cents for the first insertion ; and or every subsequent insertion 43 3-4 cents. Those who furnish standing advertisements for he year, shall be entitled to a deduction of one ‘uarter of the amount from the above rates. All Communications and Letters relating o the Office, will be directed to N. S. S. Beman i Cos. and whether enclosing money or not, must POST PAID: Should any neglect to do this they will be charged with the postage. Printing for Fublick Officers and ottioro —a. be done on the most liberal terms. AGENTS FOR THIS PAPER. ‘AUGUSTA, J. & H. Elv. ■ COLUMBIA, J.Bynom.Esq.PM. ColumbiaC.H. \GREENESBOROUGH, A. H. Scott. \SPARTA , Cyprian Wilcox. JR (VINTON, Wilkin,on Th. Sherrer, Esq. PM. HARTFORD, Pulaski, 6.B.Gardiner Esq. FM. POIYELTQN, S. Duggar, Esq. P M. CLlN■'toy, Jones Cos. J. W. Carriugton. SA V/fYNAH, S. c. & J. Schenck. PATONTON, C. Pendleton, Esq. P M. ALFORD'S P.O. Greene, C. Alford, Esq. PM. ABBEVILLE, (S. C.) Rev. 11. Reid. HANDOVER, Abbeville, S. C Maj. U. Hill. MARION, Twiggs, S. Williams, Esq. PM. JEFFERSON, Jackson, Rev. E. Pharr. LIBERTY-HALL, Morgan , C. Allen, Esq. IVATKINSVILLE, Clark , H. W. Scovell, Esq. P. M. ItICERORO', Liberty, Win. Baker, Esq. P M. GRANTSVILLE, Greene, Samuel Finley. PENDLETON, S.C. Joseph Grisham, Esq. PM. JJANIELSV.ILLE, Madison, J.Eong, Esq. PM. F.RVINSVILLE, Rutherford , JV. C. Rev. Hugh Quin. A TURNS, Clarke, B. B. Peck. %M.ADISON, .Morgan, Milus Nesbit. IT,!.YCO h,XT(). V, Linco hi.Peter Lamar,Esq. PM. TFP.i R TANBUrGH, S.C. J.Brannon,Esq. PM. VIILLE tJGEFILLE, Leonard Perkins. LBF.RTON, George Inskeep, Esq. P M. DUBLIN, Laurens, W. B. Coleman, Esq. P M. LOUISVILLE,Jeff'n, John Bostwick,Esq.PM. MALLORYSVILLE, IVilkes, Asa Hearing, Esq. P M. W AYNESBORO', Samuel Sturges, Esq. P M. LAURENS, S. C. Archibald Young, Esq. WRIGHTS 13 0 h O', Q. L. C. Franklin, Esq. MO YTIC ’ LLO, Greene D. Brantley, Esq-P M. yIAR.X’- SVILLE, Henry Freeman, Esq. P. M. ’SALEM, Clark, Raleigh Green, Esq. P. M. tobi ■ i hub u Him i—iinwniiniun—mum THE OUTLAW OF TAURUS. Translated from Eusebius by Thomas Dale. The author would apologize for this hasty, and he fears, imperfect translation ; but assures his readers, that there are strong proofs of the au thenticity of the following legend. Irensous,who lived A. D. 178, (that is,within less than a cen tury after the death of St. John) and Clemens Alexandrinus, affirm that all the presbyters, who were in habits of intimacy with the Apos tle, professed to have received the tradition im mediately from himself. When, after the death of the fyrnnl Do mitiun, the -apontin John had returned from the isle of Patmos to Ephesus, at the soli- I citation of the brethren he undertook „ tour through the provinces adjacent to that city. His objects in this journey were the ordination of bishops, the persona! superin tendence of the churches, and the separa tion of such persons as were indicated to him by the Spirit, to the exercise of the clerical office. On his arrival at a city not far from Ephesus (the very name of which is mentioned by some writers) after he had consoled the brethren by exhortation, he beheld among his audience a certain youth, whose commanding stature and en gaging aspect bespoke a corresponding nobility of mind. Turning to (he Bishop whom he had just ordained, he exclaimed— -11 In the presence of the Church, and in the sight of Christ, I commit this youth to your utmost diligence.’ He having received the young man, and given the required promise, the apostle, having solemnly reit terated his charge, returned to Ephesus. The presbyter, admitting into his own family the youth who had been thus con signed to his care, after having instructed, strengthened, and cherished him, adminis tered to him the ordinance of baptism. Af ter this, however, he relaxed his former vigilance and caution, imagining that he had secured him by the most effectual re straint, the seal of the Lord. But certain of his former companions, dissolute, de bauched, and abandoned to every species of vice, endeavour to corrupt the youth, ivbo had been too early released from re straint. And first they entice him by mag nificent banquets; afterwards stealing out by night for purposes of robbery, they per suade him to accompany them ; and, in a short tirrje, excite him to attempt some ac tion of greater atrocity. But he, becoming gradually inured to rice, like, a spirited and unbridled charger galloping from his right path, and champ ing his hit, is hurried by the very nobility of his soul, more deeply into the abyss. Having renounced all hope of salvation in his Redeemer, he meditated no trivial ac tion ; hut, as one reduced to utter despera tion, determined to perpetrate some great exploit, disdaining, even in guilt, to be on an equality with the rest. Having, there fore j collected his associates into a band, Snd procured himself to be appointed their leader, he surpassed all others in violence, slaughter, and atrocity. The MISSIONARY. In the course of time, some exigence tequiring his presence, John is once more summoned to the same city. Having ar ranged all the circumstances on account of which he came, ‘ Now,’ said he, ‘ O Bish op, restore to me the deposite which Christ and 1 committed to your custody in pre sence of the Church over which you pre side.’ . He at first stood mute with astonish ment, imagining that money which he had never received was required from him through some calumny ; he could neither believe that what bad never been intrusted to his care was demanded from him, nor could he impeach the veracity of the apos tle. But when he exclaimed, ‘I demand the young man, even the soul of my broth er,’ the old man groaning deeply, and buret,no, ioto tears, replied, ‘He is dead.’ ‘And in.what manner did he~nie : ■- ne is dead to God,’ rejoined the Bishop : 4 he hath departed, being impious and abandon ed, and a most desperate robber. And he now occupies a mountain opposite the Church, with his equally lawless associ ates.’ At 1)11*6 words the apostle rent his gar ments, and with a bitter groan striking his forehead, exclaimed, 4 To what an excel lent guardian did 1 intrust the soul of my brother!—But procure me instantly a horse and a guide.’ He hastened, even as he was, directly from the Church ; and, having arrived at the place of his destina tion, is captured by the advanced guard of the robbers, neither endeavouring to fiy, nor imploring life, but exclaiming, 4 For this very purpose 1 came! conduct me to your chief.’ The leader, armed as he was, awaited] his arrival. And when h.e recognized John advancing towards him, overpowered with shame, he betook himself to flight. But the apostle, forgetful of his age, eager ly pursued him, exclaiming, ‘Wherefore do you ily from me, oh my son ! from your tather, aged and unarmed ? Pity me, oh my child, and fear me not: you still possess a hope of salvation. 1 will make atone ment for you to Christ. Willingly would 1 endure death on your behalf, even as the Lord died for me. 1 will give my own life as a ransom for you : stop and believe: Christ hath sent me.’ The youth hearing these words, at first stood still, with his eyes fixed upon the ground ; next he threw off his arms, and, trembling, burst into a flood of tears. He then met the old man advancing, and with bitter sighs and lamen tations implored his pardon, being, as it were, baptized a second time in his tears, only concealing his right hand. Then the apostle pledging his faith, and vowing that he would obtain pardon for him from his Redeemer, having fallen on his knees and prayed, kissed the right hand of the young man, as if it had been purified by repent ance, and led him back to the Church. Having besought God on his behaif with many prayers, and striving together by frequent fasting, and soothing his soul by many scriptural exhortations, the apostle, as they say, did not depart till he had re stored him to the Church, having afforded a signal example of sincere peuitence, an illustrious instance of regeneration, and a trophy of a conspicuous resurrection. THE STANCH HYPOCRITE. FROM THE CHRISTIAN OBSERVER. I am the squire of a country parish in the north of shire, where, till within the last twenty years—that is, during the in cumbency of the present rector and his predecessor—we never had any methodis tical doings, hut were as honest hearty souls as ever mounted a hunter, or cracked a bottle. But during the last twenty years, there ha been a sad change. Ido not mean that there is more poaching, or steal ing wood and poultry, or robbing barns and orchards ; for in these respects we are bet ter off than before, which I attribute en tirely to those things having gone out of fashion, just like hard drinking. But what 1 lament is the great increase of hypocrisy in the parish. When I was a boy, we had service in the church only once a fortnight, and not always that, especially when the curate, for we had no resident rector, had the rheumatism ; but as soon as Mr. F. the present incumbent, came to reside here, he performed service every Sunday morning, which, however, 1 did not much object to : though it was sometimes very in convenient, for, as 1 made a point of attend ing whenever there was a sermon, it pre vented my taking physick, or settling some affairs at one of my manors, a few miles off, which I had been accustomed punctually to manage on the alternate Sundays, once a month. Mr. F. died twelve years ago, and left in his will a considerable legacy for a second service every Sunday, as the smallness of the preferment had hitherto rendered it uecessary for the clergyman to serve another parish, in the afternoon. To attend a second service I had always considered great hypocrisy, and therefore 1 have never once darkened the doora of an afternoon since the endowment*; but as the new rector, Mr. H. entered with warmth into the design of his predecessor, and the bishop and patron gave their con sent, I could do nothing effectual to pre vent it. Mr. 11. acted very puritanically in GO YE INTO ALL THE WORLD AND PREACH THE GOSPEL TO EVERY CREATURE. Jesus Christ. MOUNT ZION, (HANCOCK CO. GA.) MONDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1821. the whole of this business; lamcertain he only wished to curry favour with the poor, and to spite me ; though I never could see what he could get by doing so. His con duct, however, throughout, was so hyperit ically amiable and obliging, that he never gave me a fair opportunity to tell him all my mind. I hate such double dealing; a good hearty quarrel clears the air like a thunderstorm, and all is sunshine after wards. Well, Sir, hypocrisy, I belive, is as con tagious as the plague; for in a few years half the parish began to be infected ; and what with schools, and sermons, and Bibles, and prayer-books, the Sunday, instead of being a day of rest, became as busy as a market day. Some of the principal farm ers, in imitation of the parson, ha" 15 /ra ° me nypocrisy 10 taxe wWa meat dinners on that daj% that all their servants may go to church, and as for Mr. H. himself, when or how he gets his own dinner on these oc casions, I cannot conjecture : he seems to me to live like a woodcock. But in order that you may understand more fully the nature of the evils of which 1 complain, 1 shall give you the following account of one of my tenants, who has for many years been one of the stanchest hypocrites in the parish Tim Dobbins was just my own age ; and being my foster-brother, he used to be of ten, when a child, in the servant’s hall at the manor house, where he learned many excellent and diverting tricks. As we grew up, we became constant companions; for my father said, that though Tim was but a poor man’s child, he had a good deal of spirit, and promised to be an adventur ous sportsman, and might, in time, after his death, make me a valuable game-keeper. In this I was very little disappointed ; for, though Tim was a good follow, an exceed ing good fellow, yet he took so to drinking, and, what was worse, to poaching in the preserves, which he was employed to guard,that I was obliged at length to dismiss him. I shall not trouble you with the rest of his adventures, how often he got into prison or sat in the stocks, with similar par ticulars, &c. VVhat vexed me most was, that in throwing a redhot poker one day at his wife, he set fire to the new cottage I had built for him, and, beiQg intoxicated at the time, suffered the flames to spread to one of my own barns. I should not, huw ever, have turned him out of his paddock for these offences, if he had not become a hy'pocrite ; for 1 can forgive many faults where there is a good heart. His hypocrisy was very cleverly manag ed. He did not like some reprobates 1 have heard of, boast of sudden conversion; indeed, in order the better to keep up the stratagem, he did not boast at all; but to the hour of his death professed to be a mis erable sinner,while, all the while. 1 have no doubt he thought himself quite a saiot. About twenty years ago, when Mr. F. came to the parish, Tim's cottage was next to the parsonage, so that his wife and childien came in for many a good thing from the rector’s kitchen and dairy. Both Mr. F. and afterwards Mr. H. used to visit them and give them little books; and, I must confess, they were very kind and attentive to their wants ; all which 1 attribute to the new fashioned hypocrisy before mentioned. Tim, however, would not be won on, either bv words or deeds. Mr. F. tried to break him of the knack of swearing, but did not succeed; for Tim, not being bred a gentle man, did not know that it is uncivil to swear before a clergyman. In three or four years, however, the rector, I perceiv ed, began to gain a little upon him ; fori once heard Tim say, myself, that Mr. F. was a saint, if ever there was one on earth, and that in the end it might be better luck for us all if we w ere like him. When Tim’s cottage was burnt down, the rector lent him one of his own, which happened to be empty; for there was snow on the ground, and Lucy Dobbins was near her confinement; and I had vowed Tim should not have so much as a stable of mine ; lor in addition to burning my cottage and baro, which I did not care a rush for, he had betted upon Lord ’s piebald galloway, and openly backbited the char acter of the finest hound in my kennel. As soon as Tim entered the cottage, he swore, with an oath, that the parson was a noble fellow ; and that by way of quit-rent, vowed that he would never swear while he remained in that cottage, and would even go to church some Sunday, as soon as he had won the new coat and red plushed waistcoat to go in, at the cudgel match. He did not, however, keep either of these promises. Some time after, Tim was in prison for debt; and was so ill with a neglected cold, which he had caught one night in poaching my fish-ponds, that his life wns despaired of. Mr. M. attended him frequently, and gave him food and medicines, for the parish apothecary did not care to trouble himself about him. From this period I date the commencement of Tint's misfortune. The rector prevailed on the creditors to release him, and had him moved into his old cot tage, which I had by this time rebuilt for him, being much pleased with him for keeping up the honour of our county by shooting twenty pigeon* in succession— nine of them right through the head, at six yards greater distance than the best rifle man in the adjoining county, which is half as big again as ours. He was nearly twelve mouths before he recovered; all which time the rector and his wife continued their designs upon him. Tim’s ruin was now complete. I did not see him in prison, or during his illness; for such scenes, you know only make a man melancholy, es pecially as I might have chanced to en counter the parson, and come in for a slice of his Sunday’s sermon. Poor Tim, when I first saw him after his recovery, was leaning over the gate on the sunny side of his cottage, as I rode past logo to our annu al cock-fight, which, I assure you Mr. Edi iVju'j. one „ 0 „ f t x P i^P es U^ i . n ,ff s , in ."J l ?£ will soon be with us again.” 44 1 hope not, sir,” he replied.— 44 Hope not! and why? do you intend to hang all your life over a gale with your head thatched with a night cap ?” 44 My thoughts, sir,” said he, “ are greatly changed, and, I trust in future, to lead a very different life to what I have yet done.” He added a few words more, which I did not understand ; but they suffic ed to convince me that Tim was becoming a downright hypocrite: and so I told all the company at the cock-fight, who greatly applauded my sagacity, and lamented that he should have fallen, of late, into low spirits and methodistical company. Tim continued to manage his hypocrisy in a very plausible ingenious manner. He did not make a great blaze in the village, as l expected he would have done ; but went on quietly about his employments ; and, to keep op the plot the better, left off drinking, and swearing, and poaching, and stealing, and most of his old habits. I sup pose he was tired of them. Nay, the sly fellow went so far, that, from being the most troublesome and quarrelsome man in the hundred, he, in time, obtained every body’s good word as a civil companion, nn obliging neighbour, a faithful friend, and the best paymaster in the village. Still further to keep up the farce, he contrived to save money to pay off bis old debts, and subscribed a penny a week to a Bible and Prayer-Book Society; expecting, I sup pose, that they would decline receiving the money. Nay, he went so far as to deceive his own family, so that even his wife and children believed him in earmet , and, whereas they formerly trembled at his presence, they now became tenderly’ at tached to him, and gave him the best of characters to the end of his life. Ido not find fault with any of these good doings, in themselves; indeed, I very much admire them ; only in Tim they showed great hy pocrisy, because he did not even pretend that his temper and passions were changed in themselves —only that religion made him endeavour to subdue them; a plain proof of double-mindedness. I need scarce ly add, that he took to going to church twice every Sunday; besides which, he read the Bible and Prayer-book to his wife and children at home, ns often as lie had an opportunity. Thus, year after year, he went on passing himself for a saint; and this without any sufficient motive that ever I could discover to make it worth his while to do so. It must have been the mere love of hypocrisy. I make no doubt he would have had us believe it was for conscience sake ; and many’ people thought it was so, especially as he never made any difficulty of giving up his interest to suit his purpos es. In short, he kept up his character to the last; and the parson has for many years spoken of him as one of the best liv ers in the parish, and recommended all bis neighbours to imitate his example. His death has crowned the whole ; for he died as he had lived, without any ac knowledgment of his hypocrisy'. He pro fessed to be quite calm and ready to go ; another plain proof of insincerity, for who would die that could help it ? Ido not hear of his having used any extravagant expressions of joy ; I suppose he wa9 too cunning for this; hut Mr. M. said, in his f.meral sermon, that he was very repent ant, and placed his trust in Jesus Christ oar Lord; and he told us a great many of his sayings and doings, which were very good and pious in themselves, only too metho distical. Now, sir, what I want to know, is, what can I do to stop the effects of this example ? Tim’s pretended repentance and good works, and religious discourse, continued for so many years, have made many other persons take up the same kind of hypocrit ical religion; and they are all treading in his steps, to the great joy of the rector, who is getting an old man, and cannot see through these things. Tim’s death-bed has strengthened the general impression ; and if we go on as we are now beginning, I fear we must add anew gallery to the church, which would be a great expense to the parish. Pray inform me how to act. Could I not indict the rector for driving hi* majesty’s subjects mad ? My own wife and daughters, I fear, are bitten; and, to pro yoke me the more, are become so doubly kind and amiable, that, do what I will, I cannot find a pretext to quarrel with them. They read your work, Mr. Editor, which is the way 1 come to know it; and lam in hopes that if you admit my communication, Price, \ P’- or, | l $3,00 in advance. } they will be so shocked at the above ex posure of hypocrisy, as to forsake their new-fangled notions, and go hack to balls and cards, and other like Christian amuse ments, which is the hearty wish of, sir, Your obedient servant, An Anti-Metiiodist. From the Christian Observer. TEMPLE OF JERUSALEM. Voltairc's Plan for rebuilding the Temple of Jerusalem. “ Among the many excellent remarks which have at different times appeared in your pages, relative to the inspired proph ecies, Ido not recollect to have seen any I mean the attempts which have been made, hut in vain, to defeat their accom plishment. The modern state of the Jews, is an invincible argument on (his subject; but what 1 intend more particularly to urge at present as an illustration of my remark, is the plan conceived by Julian, and reviv ed by D’Alembert and Voltaire, to rebuild the temple of Jerusalem. I shall give the account of this transaction, in the words of the Abbe Barruel. “It is well known what strength the Christian religion draws from the fulfilling of the prophecies, and particularly from those of Daniel, and of Christ himself, on the fate of the Jews, and of their temple. Julian, the apostate, in order to give the lie to Christ, and to the prophet Daniel, had sought to rebuild the temple. It is al so known, that flames bursting forfh from the earth at divers times, and devouring the workmen, had obliged him to demist from the undertaking. D’Alembert was not ignorant of this act of divine vengeance having been certified by a multitude of eye witnesses. He had, undoubtedly, seen it recorded in Ammianus Marcellinus—an au thor of unqestionable authority, for he wa£ the friend of Julian, and, like hurt, a Pagan. But this did not hinder him from writing to Voltaire, 4 You probably know, that at this present timp there is in Berlin, a Jew, who, expecting Mahomet’s paradise, has in the mean time gone to wait on your former disciple, in the name of the Fultan Mnsta pha. Writing to that country the other day lie mentioned, that if he [the king of Prussia] would but say the word, the pre sent would be a fine opportunity to have the temple of Jerusalem rebuilt.’ “That word was not said by the former disciple, and D’Alembert gives the follow ing reason to Voltaire : 4 I have no doubt but that we should have succeeded in our negotiation for the rebuilding of the temple of the Jews, if your former disciple had not been afraid of losing some of bis Jew ish worthies, who would have carried away thirty or forty millions of money with them.’ Thus, in spite of all their inclination to give the lie to the God of the Christians, even the sordid interest of (he conspirators was to add anew proof to the truth of his doctrines. “ Voltaire had not, eighteen years after, given up the plan, nor lost all hope of ac complishing it. Seeing that D’Alembert had not succeeded with Frederick, he nn deavoured to prevail with the Empress of Russia. He writes to her, 4 Ifyour majes ty is in a regular correspondence with Ali Bey, I implore your protection with him : I have a little favour to ask of him ; it is to rebuild the temple of Jerusalem, and to re cal the Jews who will pay him a large tri bute, and thereby make a mighty lord of him.’ “Voltaire, when nearly eighty, still per sisted in this plan, by which hp was to prove to the people, that Christ and his prophets were impostors. “ The truth of the circumstances attend ing Julian’s attempt, has been often called in question; but I think no person can de liberately weigh the strong arguments of Bishop YVarburton, in his treatise on this subject, without admitting, both that the attempt was made, and that it was defeated in the manner described by Amtnianus Mar cellinus. Voltaire’s plan seems to have been half in jest; though, had the project been favourably received, it can scarcely be doubted, but that he would have pressed it in earnest. So much for the intention both of the ancient and modern Julian; as for the project itself, it would have proved nothing but the impiety of the advisers, had it been put into execution; for, as the Ab be Gregoire, in speaking on this very sub ject, justly remarks, “The prophecies torefold, that there should not remain one stone upon another, which has been strict ly fulfilled ; but they no where relate, that the edifice should never be rebuilt.” roi.ITENESS. 4 If possessed of truly good qualities, the practice of politeness will give them addi tional lustre, and render them doubly use ful. It is a beautiful and permanent enam el, to all the Christian virtues, and vindi cates the Christian character from the im putation ot moroseness and severity. Learning, riphes, station, talent* and genius, without this “ milk of human kindness,” are either overhearing and insolent, or awk ward and <li-|;u3tin£,