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I«■ -L'amlnmvh Uannrv & (''heviiltci' ihiptel. -
I JESSE MWOOD,I
I ~H. C. HORNADY, ( ® dltorß '
I “■ OO DOLLIES MEIR, B IDIINtE.
1
I BANNER & BAPTIST,
t k
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Proprietors.
comroicATioNS.
For the Ikuincr <fc ISaptUt
N»lc* on Vice t-linneellor Mell’* Re
joinder.
* .
NUMBER 5.
My innocent little foot notes are very trou- ’
Wesdine to Bro. M. In my article of Oct. !
185 ft, I said that one church is not bound by
• s . . , . * I
the action of another. Bro. Dawson exclaim- ,
od that there was a fallacy in the worr/“lx>und.” •
In like manner the Vice-fih«nccJlor says, 1
stopping to expose the fallcy eon- ■
tained in the word bound, I reply, every
church is bound to obey the commands of the
Master.” p. 10N.
“It wilt be remembered” that my foot note
Tsnttrx e«w U».» U,
ow/the fallacy charged to the word ; »errrnd/tj,
H“ ttfieit the name word himxtlf. Now, m re
joindca Nd. 8, he says, “Dr. C. notes the fact
that the fallacy was not formally pointed out. ]
Very well: ns it Is impliedly demanded, it ;
shall be <L>lie.”
To this, I reply that there was no dentawl
made, or intended to lai made; but I noted
both facta, because I knew that he could point
out no ambiguity or fallacy in the word as ;
used by me, that would not attach with equal 1
force to the same a* used by him ; and so he
will lli'.d whenever lie trios.
Again, he tells us that hla last number will
contain “an exposure of the fallacy i-ontained
In the use of the Word tt hcund. n llnviqg
thus formally accepted a challenge where
none w as given, he calls In a third party to do
the lighting.
I began to write these notes only from
courtesy to Bid. M., and regard to what the
public might expect. But the public does not j
expect me to notice the iucubrations of the !
Baptist Standard ; nor does courtesy to Bro. ;
M., require me to do so. His boast to ex- ■
pose my falhwy evaporates in the columns of a
borrowed editorial, which does not touch the
point to be prove.!. The artifice. (I intend no I
disrespect to Bro. M.) has induced two res- -
pcetable paperfto publish- —what olh- I
erwise they would not have inwevd. NN ith
tluit, let the ediU>r of the Standard be eon- I
tent.
‘Die V ice-Chancellor savs, “Dr. C. suys:— !
Tim question is, Is the action of a church,
whether right or wrong, binding on all oth- I
era I” Bro. M. w ill pardon mo for correcting ‘
him :ho does not design to misrepresent. I
said, “Turn it, twist it as you may, the <juex
li»n ri'»olre» itxelf into tiiin ; Is the action of a
church, whether rmiir or wronw, binding on
all others?" lie refuses to defend the affirm
atlve of this qucxtioii ; but, I repeat, the
prop-.Mtloii which he .toes matnUuu, amounts
io this. •
lie contends that an excluded man beats
“the relation of a heathen man and a ptibli- i
can" to "all church, a and church mctnl’CW.”
(p. It**’) From what period d«>ea he date
thi» relation ? Not from the cointniasion of
the otTemv, hut from the ehurvh act w hich ex
clude*. I« it not tin' ehureh-act then which
vrwttos the relation I And this, be tells us, is j
the ease without teleronee to the guilt or in
Uoeeiiee <»f the j»arty, to the justice or injus
tice of the exclusion. He tells tw, that an
iwMKWt «uau, unjustly expelled, has no reme
dy, “excepting fn»y> the church expelling
bun.' ’ (p. m.) Other diurvb«'* may yearn *
towards him a»a dear brother, smitten, aiHict i
ed, sorrowful; hut thev must not interfere - :
‘ His brethren, thnnefh munde. or tririhd'y.
have eras’ d hi* name from the church book ;"
(nay »s>«/><*, p. 135) yet, in <x*nw|ueuee vt
liial mistake tsr w», kr.in.-as, Bru. M. teaches,
that "all chan bc« and church member*” “an* to
withdraw them*«>lvcw fn»m him, to keep no
company with him, to avoid him, and to make
him bear towards them the rvlatiuti of au
hoalbt'M man and a puftdKMt.” (p. Uhl; Now
ax it >s by virtue of the ehwrvh-act. they are
to «io all thia, arc the* not 4««wni/ by the
church a<g? “And yet,” (I quote from Bro. '
S*ud») “those who ho’J this view tell na that
they do n<4 regard the acth-u of <me ehurvh
a» binding <»thac We can oniv ov
that thsy do Mol see the true chanuter tit the
petition maintained by them, and it they saw
i its true character they would maintain it no
longer. For if this be not despotism, there is
j at least one unmeaning w'ord in English.”—
■ Rel. Herald, Oct. 18, 18(50.
But Vice-Chancellor M. insists that an in
nocent Christian expelled from a church
“through mistake, or wickedly,” must be
treated “as a heathen and a publican,” and
that we are “bound” so to treat him by “ the
commands of the Master.” (p. 108.) “Love
one another is the Master’s command but
w hen a church by mistake, or wickedly excludes
a member, we are told, the same Masters;
commands bid me to treat him as a
and a publican ! If I stood alone, I would
; protest against a dogma so monstrous ! But
I thank God, Ido not stand alone. Thous
ands, nay, hundreds of thousands of Baptists
will raise their voices “as the sound of many
waters,” in opposition to the wrong. And
when the causes which have led to this ex- !
citemeut -halij..:;,- away, it will y.
ro * w **^* >,, ***^~* m *‘* n wUxtoiAs-d ;
| which I have opposed.
N. M. CRAWFORD.
Mereer University, Jan. 2, 1861.
For the Banner & Baptist.
Defence of Country Baptist Churches
for not having permanent Pastorates.
Dear Banner:-—I find in your paper of
\ December 22, 1860, a communication setting
j forth the office of Pastor, Number 1, signed
J. R. C., and Number 2, of the sth instant.
The prime object of the writer seems to have
! been the condemnation of the churches, for
I electing their pastors annually, and for
occasionally changing the same. He 'sets
out by saying, “While the churches elect their
pastors every year, about half their time is
I spent in looking about for next year.” If this
| be so, it proves the fact, that the churches
have Wen deceived. So many ministers have
' apostatized and brought disgrace upon their
' office and the churches, that it is the duty of
a church when she calls a pastor, to watch his
' actions, sermons, &c., and if possible^to de- i
j cide whether they accord with the qualifica-
I tions set forth in God’s holy word. Suppose
I he proves defective, as many do, and the
church should decide that it would bo for her
prosperity to elect another, who has the right
; to condemn her? But when a church eallsh
1 pastor, who faithfully preaches the truth be
] cause he loves his Saviour, and this love (not
! the fleece,) prompts him to feed the lambs
- and the sheep, and to warn sinners wherever
i he goes, and wears humility ns n garment, who
! is not ashamed nor ufraid to labor with his
I own hands as Paul did, so as to enable him to
, live, support his family, and preach to small (
■ poor churches, who are not able to pay him
a suflicicncy without this labor; who is not a
i hnsy-boily in other men’s business; who bri
dles hi? tougqe ; who, when his churches are
dealing with members for drunkenness will
* n<TT-<-rt'-;r.mrT rtrw-' rtnswM-'M iw -
the Conference, but will refrain from drink- ’
ing entirely as a beverage, and will not do as !
I one did, make a strong temperance speech in 1
Conference and the same evening go home
with a man who was in the habit of getting
drunk, and drink with him, mucii to the an
noyance of some of his brethr.‘n: I say, when
churches cull such a pastor as above describ
i ed, they will not only love him, and lose no
: time in looking about for another, but will
I keep him, if jsiaslble, so long as he is able to ■
preach, and they will need no long harangues
from him nor their deacons to make them do ’
their duty in paying him for his services. And
if one of his churches should choose another
pastor in his plai-e, he will not- gooff and draw
an Imperfect picture of the same, and publish
it in one of the religious papers.
Tito annual election of a pastor, whether
the same lx; eallod, or another, is nothing but
a sotting forth of the will of the church. Sure
-1 ly no good pastor would desire to continue in
■ the pastoral office when a majority of the
[ church were opposed to him; if otherwise, it
surely would be pleasant- for him to know that
he still h.id the confidence of his brethren.
The brother goes on to state, “About half
i of Uieirfthc ministers) time, they are looking
’ round to see where they shall get labor for
the next ycqr, aitd not a few sea'k to root out a
faithful pastor, who [x'rbaps. costs the church
a little more pecuniary aid to live, and offers
to supply them for his victuals and clothes,
and do them greater service in the bargain.”
Is it so? And can it lx» possible that the a
’ buve U a trite picture of the Baptist minis
ter*ot Georgia I Where has the mantle of
Mercer. Marshall, Sunders, and a host of oth
ers. fallen ? (’an any true minister of our
Saviour so act ? T.el us all joilt in Jeremiah's
laiuetiUtion and say, “Oh! that our heads
j wvrx’ MTteiw. and nur eyes a fixintain of tears,
that wc might weep day and night, that God
in his g’uxlness would remove such ministers
away from llis churches."
■ The next assertion I shall notieo, is the fi»l-
I lowing: “You ixMtld make them, (tlie majori-
tv of a httreh,) IwHeve clix tinn, an,| prodes
tiuation. and all ordinations of t»o.1, except
the onlination t<» stqqx»rt those that preach
the Gosjx-I.” Ido here assume the respHtst
bilitp S»r the elittroiic*. to .tenv tfUkollegatioo.
They may dulet with their }>ast<>rs as to the
j amount; ipui this, is more likely to be the
case, if they 4rv*s extravagantly, ride in fine
buggies, and show a dictatorial spirit in this
matter.
Tne next statement I will n<>ti««, is as fol
lows : “No brother, who may be called to aid
another, in a protracted meeting, should seek
to un«lcrvalua the confidence of the church in 1
him. and thus fro?c**rou«/y, and secretly di
root their aflTectwh* towards himself.” I will
say nothing about such a ministor, (if he de ‘
serve* the Mirh',) Imt will express a solemn
fear, that the awful passioft ..f jca.busy, with
her twin sister envj, is rankling in the brruat
of amue the mlniatera of the (tape!: aw -
; ful nmclusion for the prosperity of the cause
of Christ. It * a* farther in this statement, ‘
- that th<' brother considers the church a jWss
ive body, to be nnotideJ by any intriguer, t.>
• suit himself. Th.s, 1 deny. She is independ
' ent under ( hrist-considers in «neh matters
heU judgment.
} wtU say, in <NNMhM*un, that we are lurceJ
to mauagv things in this axnthl world as thev
BAWEB OVER" iW "EOVE."
’* ’* f ’ ! * \ i ?V - ‘ - - fr ir
A TL ANTA, 2. 18<il.
: are. “God’s ways are not as our ways, nor His
i thoughts as our thoughts.” If a large portion
j of all sinners around every country church
were converted, and added unto the churches,
and every minister true and evangelical, then
the brother might plead for a fixed pastorate,
and success might attend his efforts. But so
long as the churches are small and poor, and
the ministers so imperfect, a fixed pastorate
will be impossible, and changes frequent. The
churches will have to be content to get
the best supplies they can once or twice a
month, and ought to make it a part of their
daily prayer to the God of ail grace, that He
i would add daily to their number such as shall
i be saved, and call into His vineyard, more
| true and devoted Laborers.
A BAPTIST.
For the Banner & Baptist.
My ltlollier’B Grave.
1 was a sinner then. .It was a dark and
| gloomy day. The folding clouds floated, in
; sky. ~"™'w. I";WT ~Uj ipa .'ut u y <- J
I on the soft lips of the evening wind. Light,
I dimly visible and faint, kindled its fading
| gleams on the smouldering city of the dead,
i The towering pine and the stately oak, hung
| with native drapery, spread their waving
branches aver mortality’s last home, as if to
deepen the dark shades of death.—The si
lence was broken. The pilgrim waves of the
Coosa, as with one voice, sung a low and sol
emn song—a song in honor to the mighty
( dead.—l was standing on the borders of death;
I was standing by my 7 mother’s grave. The
solitude was deep and awful! I was alone.
] 1 was in the dead gloom of the deep, dark
: forest. Marble columns, white as driven
snow, towered up around me, marking the
place where soldiers lay, and pointing to where
their spirits dwelt. 1 bent down beside her
grave, and whispered to my God, for I could
: not speak aloud. Here sleeps my mother,
i the richest boon of Heaven—the greatest gift
■of (xotl to man. Awake, dear mother!—
i Thou art not dead. Let me feel the gentle
pressure of maternal lips, let me feel the soft
touch of your tender, snowy hand; let me
feast my hungry soul on your rippling smiles
once more; let the sweet, melodious strains
of your melting eloquence break upon my
listening ear, and let me see the light beam
ing frem your lustrous eyes before 1 die.—
Talk, mother, of the other world. Tell me
of the darksome tomb, the broad empire of
death, and the regions of eternal bliss. Half
unconscious, thus I spoke; but all was silent
still. ‘
Close beside my mother, in that hollow
I vault so deep and dark, my father sleeps.—
j How I loved him ! How I long to meet him
I within the jasper walls ! Ilis wise counsel is
still floating on the proud wave of memory;
his dying exhortation still lingers in iny soul.
I want to kiss his marble brow again ; I want
town ••DTrrt&rirrh»g'W«»«».j.D >
j lips; 1 heal'd'hl IU-gusp i Isaw him convuls<<<Tln
i awful agony ; but this was not the work of
death. He breathed no more. He was
wrapt, in snowy folds, and confined to the
narrow casket. He is lowered into the black
depths oi' the solemn tomb. The clod rattles,
the mound heaves, and the storm towers up.
But, father, thou art not dead! "“Get up from
the dusty grave, Jay aside its instruments,
and lead me again. Get up father, enfold me
iin thy arms, as when a child. Thus, I spoke
I to my father, but no form started up from
: this wild waste of tombs—no voice broke the
i solemn stillness. The gloom grew thicker,
• the darkness blacker, and my suffering more
: intense. I had qome to hold converse w ith
I ilh' citizens of the grave, but not a respon-
sire voice echoed through the dark chambers.
But see yon form ' Sec the haggard face,
; and bnruiug eyes, and gliastly arms. It furls
, its In-avy wings, and site on yon polished
i stone. NVith a heavy frown on his face, he
; looks full upon me, ’Tis death ! and these
I marble columns are Lis boasted thrones. lie
speaks: “NVith this whetted sword, 1 cm your
i mother, your father down. 1 plucked the
rose from their cheeks, plowed furrows on
; lheir brow, and hung their heads with silver
threads. 1 Jed them, at a rapid pace, down
j the bending arch of time; and, the lamp of
i life burning dimly, dashed them, with one
j fearful, madening plunge, againsi the dark
; rocks of eternity. They are not asleep; they
. ate dead.'
, I realized the flwt; 1 fell that they were
gone; See th-m no more I No, no; I shall
I see them only at the judgment thr«nc. Then,
( dear father and mother, farewell for awhile.
, Silently and sweetly, sleep on. I turned
away fiom the toi;ib without hope.
Years have passed away, since 1 stood by
my mother’s grave, the light of reveLtiion has
flashed upon my soul. My heart has been
; electrified by tite galvanic spiuk of ttionghu—
By the grace of God, I have made my transit
from the total eclipse of sinful darkness, into
, the glorious elfulgence of Gopsl light. I
, have walked, by a living faith, ou the tremb
ling heights of Calvary, and by the opening
tomb of Jesus, I have a pri-cious bppe.
Years roll on, and I stand by my mother’s
grave again. The great day has emie. A
crimson blush playa over the world's broml
I face; and then,she grows deathly pale. Men
tremble, and quake, and fear under the gath
ering, and darkly rolling clouds. God rides
> u}w>nlhel»en.lii:gsky,in His dark-robed chariot.
He pours out 1!U wrath on the inky clouds, it
burns into a livid flame* ;md flashes, in firery
, grandeur, to the ends of the world. NVith
1 iinposiug majesty—with awful sublimity, the
i Hnghtj clouds roll apart. The Lord of Glory
; cornea! NV hat uu army with Him! The
enraptured millions that bend around the rter
ual throne; all, Ml are rushing down the shiu
; ing way. And what a song. 'Tis loud
enough to shake the trembling throne of
death. Je*us, tn advance of the rflignty
thhlog, hurries to the w»«ri>l of death. NN rapt
• in robes of sovereignty. He smites thegliastly
, king of terrors. CouquertsL and covered
with shame, death topples from his an
cient tbrone. The graves open ; am? the
world of death moves in edving 1 tides of life.
My mother lives again. ' She smiles: her
Is’.-aMit h*-avvs with iov. Again, we H»eet» —
Ami »>«, we soar aloft on augd uu zs to
meet our blessed Jesus in the skies.
NV. D. MAYFIELD,
I Lmnxne, S. C.
j ! For tho Banner* Raptist
! ' MY WIFE.
1 ;
BY J. M. F.
1 ? ' v , I
Reader, has sorrow been your tft through I
, life ? Has death ever entered yoiX door and
I removed from the family circle otf * ts lov
; ed members ? If so, may God you
> in your Afflictions—to Him alonef an y° u turn
; for comfort.
t Bear with me but a little, while I record a
. passage—a page —from the history of my life.
, It is a tale of sorrow, and eve? ®ow, while I
[ record it, the tears trickle dowfl my cheeks,
and my heart, convulsed by sa’red memories, ]
sobs with a mighty grief.
It was upon a hot and sultri afternoon that
I first met Sybel Graham. Sle was a sweet,
fair, delicate girl, o’er whose jure brow, but
seventeen summers had blocA’d. She was
modest, retiring and as I am a
man who scorns, loathes, the open
• I ■■
ately attracted my attention. I started many
topics of conversation, and found her very in
telligent. I discovered that under that modest
demeanor, lay a heart of deep tenderness, “a
, mind from long seclusion, pure,” and a soul
of poetical eloquence.
It is needless to say that my heart surren
dered at discretion to Sybel Graham. From
that evening 1 loved her passioißtely, madly.
As I rode home that evening, I could not
, but compare her with the women of the world.
They could bear no comparison with this fair
creature. I resolved that if ever I married,
that Sybel Graham should be my wife.
NVhen 1 arrived home, my friends were teas
ing me about my thoughtful demeanor. I told,
them I had seen a vision, and retired to
commune with my heart. Who can imagine
my distress on learning, the very next morn
ing, that she was engaged to, and would short
ly be led to the altar, by a gentleman of high
personal attainments.
This information struck like a funeral knell
upon my hopes, and I bowed my head under
the bitter blast of disappointment,
To dream of joy, and wake to sorrow,
Is doomed to all who love »r live;
And if but conscious on the morrow,
Wo scarce our gincy can forgive,
That cheated us in slumber <snly, *
To leave the waking soul more lonely.
Several weeks passed by, and again we met.
She calm and serene,-1 trembling and confus
ed. As we conversed together 1 noted a some
thing in her demeanor that startled me strange
ly. Could it be possible! was I misinformed !
was she really free, and did I occupy a place
in her heart ! I determined to find out.
We again met, and oh ! joy unutterable!
I noted the glance of quiet tenderness. I could
see the love light in her eye.
Upon one holy Sabbath eve, I breathed into
her ear my tale love. Oh, you should have
"SeerTfiSrT
The light of love, the purity of graeo.
The mind, the music breathing from her face!
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole!
And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!
My love was reciprocated and the heart of the
lonely misanthropic world-wanderer was made
happy.
I had drawn a capital prize in the great
lottery of life. She was a Christian—and one
who was truly sincere. Her virtues were
many, the greatest of which, was her charity.
She daily visited the sick, and ministered to
their wants. She smoothed the pillow of the
dying and gave them hope of blessed im
mortality beyond the grave. She whispered
Christian consolation into the ear of the afflic
ted. The sigh, pain and the groan of anguish
abated in her presence, for she seemed a min
istering angel sent from heaven. A holy in
fluence surrounded her, and a halo of purity
encircled her face whose radiance attracted all
who gazed upon her.
Such w;i-> Sybel, such around her shone.
The nameless charms—unmarked by her alone.
My happiness was complete, nothing was
wanting to increase it. I idolized my wife—
nor was I alone in my idolatry. A thousand
prayers daily ascended to the throne of Grace
i in her behalf. She was too pure, too holy,
i too much of a Sjiijit to live long in this world j
i of sorrows.
One year, to A after our marriage, and j
our first born ?Wmp<jii its smiling mother’s |
breast—what a beautiful picture—my wife ;
i and child. I clasped them both to my heart i
t and out united prayers of thanksgiving ascen- '
, ded to our Father in heaven. That night I ■
j was hastily tailed to Sy feel’s bedside. Oh!
] my God! tliat I should have to record it!! .
i My bright dream of joy was fading. The an- ■
; gel of Death had spread his wings on the ‘
I blast, and breathed in the face of my wife as
he past. She was calmly, quietly, serenely
passing away. The life was quick-
;ly ebbing; she soon .would be where saints j
I imniortal stand. “Ok! do not weep for me, !
iny huskuid.” she ssU, as 1 bent in anguish
i over her. "Life is vsry sweet, and you have j
made rt so to tne, and oh, may Godin His in
finite merry bless and protect you. You will
not forget me. James, you will not forget
| yout darling Sybel, vtUl you, say will you ?”
Back fiwli.sh tears, 'tis past now, lam a man '
I again.
But, reader, you may, perhaps, have never
seen a Christian die, M» I you know not how
deeply it would aflfecftfou to see even a stran ]
I ger die. But when ybu see your wife, in the i
j full possf saion of her mental faculties, breathe
her last, tears will rain down your cheeks at j
the bare memory of the scene.
I The weeping nurse pheed in her arms our
t bal*. and as she clasped it to her breast, the
I tears trickled down hes transparent cheeks
An unesTthly brilliancy lighted her eye, and
the shade of the Destroyer passed over her
face. “I am home.” she said, “to die
no more.” As the last «>>te t rem Med upon
the air, I raised her bead upon iny hreaal— !
“kiss me. my husband," she said. With a •
; low sigh she met iny caress. NVith that
i sigh the pure spirit departed to the God who ,
made it, and Sybel, my aagel wife, was at
rest. “Life’s fitful &-ver w over and she sleeps
* well."
1 he next day our babe was taken from me.
He sleeps upon his mother’s breast, and 1, .
■ doubiy bereaved, am alone.
"" r ■ „
My friends advise me to marry again, but I
can never find another Sybel. I can neves%
] love, again. My heart is in the grave with
i my wife, and there will rest till I am laid be-
I side her. My dream of happiness was brief,
but it was ecstatic while it lasted. ’Twas she
who opened wide to me the mysteries of
Christianity, and I now feel that, although the
yawning gulf between time and eternity sepa
rate us, that we will yet meet in that land of
pure delight, where sorrows never come.
JEEEEWI
_____ ——
; The Board System--is it Scriptural?
The following able.paper we clip from, the
Mississippi Baptist. It is the cunclusion of
several articles on the same subject:
Let it be remembered, that the work of
Missions is a universal responsibility, (accor
ding to the Scriptural system given us by
Bro. C.,) that individuals were organized into
churches to give efficiency, by concert of ac
pie for the constitution of ch
the interest of, and increase the efficiency of
their efforts in this work. To which we offer
no objection. The question is the adaptation
of our system to this Scriptural system as
given by himself.
Under the one we have a moneyed basis of
representation—excluding the masses from
direct participation in a work, the success of
which is greatly dependent on the combined
efforts of all. Now, 1 assume, and think all
will concede, that that method of accomplish
ing a universally incumbent duty, which en
lists all, and tends constantly to develope the
Catholic nature of the obligation, is the proper
method—and the one commending itself, to
the exclusion es every other. The question
then, is—does our system of missions, as now
prosecuted, develope to the greatest extent, a
universal conviction of unversal responsibili
ty ?—the mainspring of action to tho whole
machinery. Do all take that interest in a
work—participation in the direction and- con
trol of which is made to depend on the ability
to contribute a specified sum ? Does not ex
clusion from participation, so operate as to
convince the excluded that the work is more
especially the duty of those able to contribute
the amount fixed on for granting tho privilege
of active participation.
If the work of missions is one of universal
responsibility, it is properly a subject of uni
versal individual prayer, and universal indi
vidual contribution. If it be also a universal
church duty, it is also properly a subject of
universal church prayer—church contribution
and consultation, —the universal duty of the
ministry to urge it on the brotherhood and the
churches.
If it was originally an individual duty, and
became, at the organization of the churches, a
church duty, because more efficiently discharg
ed, it is therefore inadmissible to transfer a dis
charge of theduty to another body,one not even
claiming to represent the churches—as the
practical influence of such a trasfer, is to de
tract from the conviction that should univer
sally prevail— viz: that it is a chprch duty,
and one that every member is in duty bound
to participate in.
A duty to be performed involves the meth
form it.
Bro. C., admits that the church is now the
agent, and is bound to admit that it must do
theduty as a church—for a church can no
more work as an individual, than can an indi
vidual work as a church. He admits, “That
the church is the Christian instrumentali
ty for the conversion of the worldand
if Christ’s instrumentality, it is the only
instrumentality that can properly be em
ployed.
It would not be admissible to employ a
body of Christians, —as Masons, or Odd Fel
lows, or Sons of Temperance, to publish the
Gospel to all nations. They might be not
only good citizens, but all of them Christians
—men fully impressed with the desire of des
eipling all nations—but however commenda
ble the desire, the divinely appointed means—
the church —cannot be properly superceded,
because emanating from the AU Wise and
rightful Law-Giver, Such resource for spread
ing the Gospel, though apparently magni
fying the importance of the work, neces
sarily disparages the Divinely appointed
agency.
The great desideratum in prosecuting the
work of missions, is enforcing the magnitude
of the responsibility on the minds of all, —
and this cannot be done efficiently by a system
which separates the work from the masses,
and places it where it is rarely before the
mind’s eye,—but by that system which con
stantly urges the subject, in all its importance
upon the consideration of every individual
. Christian and church. In our system of church
i polity, the duty of each church member is
J the duty of all; the poor widow’s mite as ful
i ly met her obligation as a larger sum the ob
‘ ligation of one more opulent; and a failure in
i her to have contributed, would have been as
: criminal in her as would the failure of one
] whose ability enabled him to contribute
largely. The discharge of the duty should be
required of both.
, Is it not claiaimed that the Southern Bap
j tist Convention is made up of churches, or
■ works with, for, or as the representative of the
churches ? Some modification, therefore, of
this feature of Mission machinery, is indis
pensably necessary to obviate this want of
conformity to the Scriptural pattern. Trans
ferring the work from the churches, is the
separation of it from the masses, and tends,
as we have already seen, to detract from the
i conviction of individual responsibility that
should be felt by all, and greatly lessens the
aggregate of efforts, —cantributious —and thus
operates to retard the work it is intended to
further. But while it does this, it does more;
, it educates Christians to esteem lightly the
pattern of things portrayed in the Sacred
Oracles, and prepares them to accept or look
i more leniently on Episcopacy—an invention
of man, opposed to the very genius and na
i ture of gospel institutions.
ILepublicaiiisin is the great characteristic
| feanture of New Testament institutions, and
that system of religion—missions, or anything
else, which prepares the mind for a different
order of things, is anti scriptural, and anti re
publican—a departure from the pattern, and
cannot be adopted with impunitj. It, cannot
be determined how far our Biennial Conven
tion, used as it has been to mould denomina
tional sentiment —exercising eccbusiastical
functions, by indirect censure and approval—
thereby assimilating itself to, and preparing
Baptists to receive a system of polity institu
ted by men, to the exclusion of the New Tcs
j lament system, —it cannot be determined to
l what extent Baptiste by these innovations,
have aided in fostering and building up anti
scriptural institutions. But one thing is cer
tain. the human mind is the ereature|of educa
ti. ti; fam'.i'.arity r.iirsu the odiopsness of
vice. That which to-day we cannot- by any
means allow, or assent to, becomes to us by
association less objectionable—and ultimately,
may secure the full assent of our minds, and
the countenance es our action.
> Pedo-baptist polity is that of the few over
li. T. DOTAL, Griffin, Georgia, ? Corresponding
D. P. EVERETT, Florida, ) Editors.
JOS. S. BAKER, Florida Traveling Correspondent.
the many—and recognizes the existence of
higher and lower courts for the adjudication
of rights, and the punishment of wrong. Our
Biennial Convention, though not claiming ec
clesiastical functions, has been used, indirect
ly, to approve and condemn; and to this ex
tent has exercised ecclesiastical functions,
which is wholly at variance with the original
design and intent of the institution. And
though it may as yet have accomplished but
little toward the transformation of the repub
lican features of our institutions, the leaven
is working, and may ultimately leaven the
whole lump. Pervert our institutions—des
troy the simplicity of gospel churches, and
fasten, even on Baptists, Episcopacy, ro less
objectionable than that which characterizes
pedo-baptist organizations.
The Boards of our Con vent ion are an elabo
ration, —if 1 may be allowed the expression,—
• of the individual system, and are chiefly ob
jectionable, on that ground. A Convention
of churches to consult and further the cause
of Missions, is not objectionable ; but let the
Convention be one of churches ; let there be
no monied basis of representation; let the
great cause of Missions be the cause of the
churches, not of individuals only, who are
able to pay a fixed sum. Allow this, and a
fund would not be objectionable— -nor a keeper
~ -x Tior v<?onid a place of deposit, nor
a. systsm of oper ation .. -pvovffild it bo the
system of the churches—instituted by- then
1 ■ —controlled and directed by them, and sus
1 tabling missionaries who were their represen
tatives in the work, —operating by, with, anc
then for them; and exercising only the privil
eges of immediate agents.
But I hesitate not to assert, that a Board—
itself the appointee of individuals—origina
ting, fashioning, and executing plans,—aside
from the churches—selecting fields—electing
missionaries who are accountable to them
selves for the discharge of their duties—is that
for which a Scriptural warrant cannot be
' given.
Those engaged in such plans are good men
—men of broad and deep philanthropy,—ac
tuated by motives than which none are more
com mendable and whose very earnest and prais
worthy desire of accomplishing, speedily,
much good, has betrayed them to adopt a
system which is hindering the very object
they so much desire, by indirectly teaching
our churches and membership to neglect a
' great and imperative duty.
And how is it, that such is the result ? By
inducing them to conclude, that this is a work
in charge of a powerful organization,—that it
is not directly and iniperatively the work and
duty of the churches and of all the members
of the churches, or those to whom we are ac
customed to look as our leaders and fathers
in Zion, would not employ another agency.
It is the work, therefore, of those highly fh
vored with the goods of this world. This is
their method of reasoning, and these are
the inductions they very naturally draw.
If it is God’s plan, that His churches shall
proclaim the unsearchable riches of His grace
—preach the Gospel to all nations—(which is
essentially the work of Missions,) any or
ganization which in its operations supercedes
tho churches in this work, is at variance with
Ilis plan.
And though the plan may be vigorously
and prayerfully prosecuted by good men, it is
impossible that its working can accomplish so
much as the plan of the Savior.
NVe would not hinder the good that good
men are doing through institutions of their
own invention ; but we would have them di :
rect their eilbrts arfght-s—wYiuld have tlieni
work under the Lord’s plan. We love them
’ we love the cause they love ; we would no
' detract from, but increase the efficiency o
their efforts ; we would make a mission agen
-of every Christian; we would make th*
Savior the great Consdlor of all. Then tht
measure of our success cannot be conjectured
compared with the success of a system whicl
is the creature only of man.
P. S. JONES.
M'emphis, Dec. 3d, 1860.
The Power of Prayer.
To encourage Christians to employ earnestly
the mighty power of prayer in the present
crisis, we quote the following example from
the Boston Journal, premising that Muller’s
wonderful “Life” has just been published by
Gould & Lincoln, of Boston:
“God is a hearer of prayer. The truth is
shown in a multitude of cases in Old Testa
ment times; the Saviour most explicitly
taught it; the experience of good men wit
nesses to it; and occasionally we seem to have
a demonstration of it in our own times, in a
way which cannot be resisted. A case of this
; kind has recently been frequently referred to
by the religious press, where a little company
of believers, in simple dependence on God,
seeking only Ilis interposing agency, have
been able to carry forward, and are now car
rying forward, a noble work for which they
themselves were utterly powerless. George
Muller’s Orphan Asylum, at Bristol, England,
at which seven hundred destitute orphans are
daily provided for, rests on no other basis of
support than prayer. Its managers are all
poor, but God sends them means, and has
done so for years, and they never want. —
When straitened for accommodations for the
increasing number of children appealing to
them for support, though in the receipt of
means only sufficient for daily expenses, they
■ have sought in prayer for funds to build, and
i numerous and noble contributions, unsolicited
of any one, have been poured into their hands
and large and costly houses have been erect
! ed. Helpers for the work have bfien obtain
ed in answer to prayer; and large turns tor
missionary work have also been sought and
obtained by the same means. This enterprise
; is well known in England and on the Conti
j nent, and its history is soon to appear in this
i country. Persons most familiar with it have
t sometimes styled it ‘The Bristol Miracle,’ so
; manifest is the hand of God in its affairs.
I God is also able to accomplish great things for
; us; and it is grateful to find in those set over
, us in church and State, as well as in the peo
j pie themselves, a disposition to seek the aid
j of Him who has thus far been our defense,
and whoofi wisdom is sufficient for us in every
I emergency.” A.
The ChriMian Argument.
Pai 1 declared that his method of dealing
with souls was, “to commend the truth to ev
ery man’s conscience.” There can be no ques
tion that this is the true course, especially
' when contending with argumentative object
-1 ors. These are always satisfied, so long as
they can keep the discussion upon the out
i works of the system, or upon abstract doc
trines, or upon anything else than a personal
appeal to their own sense of right. A corres
-1 pondent of a contemporary recently gave a
striking incidental illustration of this. A
Christian was drawn by urgent request into an
I encounter with an infidel, taught in the sophis
tical tactics of his class. Instead of allowing
1 himself to be led off into general debate a-
I bout the evidences, etc., he pressed the mit
i ter home upon his opponent. He first drew
from him the concession that all men were sin
ners, and that he was a sinner, and that it was
reasonable and right that sinners should re
pent, and then he brought home the personal
inquiry, u llave you repented Tliis was an
! unexpi'eted thrust, which the man sought to
■ parry by diverting the conversation to some
VOLUME 11-NCMBEII7.
f other topic. But no; the Christian soldier
i was firm—the question must be answered, and
r the man’s conscience compelled him to say,
“No!” “Well, then,” replied his antagonist,
“I can proceed no farther in the argument till
- you have first performed this duty, which you
i, acknowledge you owe to God.”
1 The consequence was what might haue been
I expected. The man was deeply moved; at
t length resorted to the reading of the Bible,
i- then to secret prayer, and before long was
n hopefully converted. Now this was certainly
e the shortest way to the end proposed. If the
s- objector’s mind had been satisfied, and all his
d difficulties removed, it would still have been
s necessary to awaken his conscience, whereas,
s by doing the latter first, the former come to
pass itself.— lntelligencer.
Pan
X U It XiJJ XvJoXh/
For the Banner A Baptlet.
“The little Foxes that spoil the Vines.”
e Last year there appeared in the Banner, a
e short, but excellent article from the pen of
e “Mamie,” upon “Criticism of Sermons.” The
subject was well timed, much needed, and it
r is to be hoped was carefully perused by all
e who take an interest in whatever concerns the
W cKrutum character. It is a fact too painfully
* true, that many of us are 8O rea a y to indulge
in this simple practice; to give away to this
]. seemingly little sin; forgetting it is the “lit
tle foxes that spoil the vines,” and that it is
- these things which appear so natural, so tri-
l ’ fling, that Christians ought to be on their guard
against. When we say Christians, we mean
” the pastor, as well as his flock ; for while the
t sin lies heavily at our door, it grieves us to
c confess, that the sacred desk, or those who
stand there to dispense to us the precious
bread of Life, are not free from its contamin
e ating touch. Brethren in the ministry should
i- speak kindly, affectionately of each
> ticularly before their charges, or they will of
ten undo, by their conversation, what they la-
T bor so faithfully in the pulpit to effect. We
a know it is written, “Touch not mine anoint
ed,” and far be it from us to slight this por
i tion of our Father’s word : but we speak in
t love, and hope the relation of a simple fact
j will illustrate our meaning.
s NoJ a great while ago, there was at one of
k our Associations, a sister, who, for some
s months, had been laboring under great spiritu
al depression. Although to all outward ap
s pearance she was as devoted to the cause of
e Christ, as punctual in her attendance upon the
sanctuary, and as zealous in the performance
J of her duties as ever; yet she felt the life, the
s spirit was wanting, and knew before her God
.. she was a backslider in heart. She went to
s this gathering of God’s people with an earn
h cst longing for some food just suited to her
case, and during the meeting heard a brother
g preach whom she had never before seen. In
o the course of his sermon, the minister dwelt
largely upon the love of Christ to His peo
pie. He spoke of the safety ol the believer
1 whose life is hid with Christ in God, and so
warmly; so fervently did he pregs home the
1- subj<*< t, that tbn soul of thiH was Yrxelt-
)t ed down. Peace returned to her bosom, and
Jesus once more appeared unto her "the ohief
est among ten thousand and altogether love
e ly.” She felt it was good to be there, and re
i, turned from the meeting with a grateful heart
h and a beaming countenance, for she had re
ceived her portion and that in due season.
Another day passed off, and this sister was in
company with brother 8., a watchman also
upon the walls of Zion. He was considered
y. a zealous, devoted man of God, and she, in
t the fullness of her renewed heart, reasonably
n anticipated a spiritual feast in talking with
s him. The conversation turned upon the ser
mon of the night before. Unreservedly she
g expressed her opinion of its merits, the de
i- light she experienced in listening to it, and
f then inquired, “but how did you like it, bro.
r BI” How was her ardor cooled, and with
e what surprise and pain did she turn away,
when the following reply fell upon her ears:
s “Oh, it did well enough for a borrowed ser-
D mon; but he is so far from home it don’t
f make much difference.” Oh! brethren, our
'» vines have tender grapes; these little foxes
e that spoil the vines, watch for them, watch.
Florida. AUNT EDITH,
r -a- rw ,. r
From the Christian Repertory.
B ’ The little Girl and her Mother,
f A little girl of five years, well known to
1 the writer, was left at homo by her mother,
s one evening, in the care of a servant. When
- she returned, being informed that her little
a daughter had not behaved well during her ab-
> sence, she took her upon her knee, and, after
f gently reproving her, observed that the child
’ began to talk, in a tone too low, however, to
1 be understood. After some time, she asked
1 the little girl what she was talking about, but
» she refused at the time to tell her. The next
- evening, when she was again on her mother’s
knee, after having said her little- ,nrw v ar. jja.lt.. —
r was her custom to~3b every night before go
-1 ing to bed, she looked up into her mother’s
e face and said: “Mamma, have I been good
- to day f” “Yes,” replied the mother, “I think
» you have been quite a good child to-day.”
8 Said the little girl: “I had a talk with God
> last night, and 1 told him I wanted to be good
■ to-day, and I asked Him if He would not
r help me, and He thus helped me all day.”
r This little girl is known by her parents to
- have the utmost confidence in prayer, and she
i is in the habit of communicating with God,
, sometimes by talking with Him, and some
' times in praying to Him.
This simple incident is suggestive of much
in regard to the duties of parents to their
children. As early moral training is the on
, ly reliable means of elevating our race to a
’ high state in virtue and excellence, so is early
religious culture, accompanied by Divine in
fluences, the most effective instrument of
bringing the world to a knowledge of the true
, God. It is, indeed, the salvation of the church
as ani nstitution.
There is a religious element belonging to
[ every human being, as well as a physical na
ture, and those who fail to provide for its
k wants and cravings, neglect a duty as impor
tant as that of furnishing the appetite with
j necessary food, or the body with appropriate
I clothing. Its aspirations will not be entirely
, ' suppressed any more than will the calls of the
’ stomach for food ; and, since the Christian re
ligion never rises intuitively in the heart, un
’ | less directed to the Author of all life and good
as an object worthy of its best affections, it
t : will cling to some miserable superstition or
I system of infidelity. RUTH.
I |
i there notsn »pp°’ man
) ' upon earth 1 Are not his days also the days
> i of a hireling ?
