The Banner and Baptist. (Atlanta, Ga.) 186?-186?, October 11, 1862, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

BY HORNADY & ELLS. VOL. 111. ®hf § mi gaptist, DEVOTED TO RELIGION AND LITERATURE, Is published every Saturday, at Atlanta, Georgia, at the subscription price of throe dollars per year. HORNADY & ELLS, Editors and Proprietors. H. C. Hornady.] [James N. Ells. ‘ Almost tlion persuades* Me.’ Almost persuaded to forsake The slippery paths of death, While gazing on the toppling stones That crown the gulf beneath, — While angel forms are thronging round To lead thee to the sky, And God’s own Spirit whispers thee, ‘Believe, thou shalt not die !’ Almost persuaded to return A tender Father’s love, To look in filial confidence To Him who reigns above; To Him, whose gifts liavebless’d thy path From earliest infancy, 1 Nor spared His loved and only Son, But gave Him up for thee. Almost persuaded to bow down That haughty soul in prayer, While standing at the cross of Christ And viewing Jesus there, — Half turning from the loving gaze, ’Mid mortal agony* And thine own heart's responsive throb, ‘That Saviour died for me.’ TUI STATE OF THE ‘ALMOST CHRISTIAN’ ILLUSTRATED. A. SERMON, PREACHED IN FORSYTH, GA„ SEPTEMBER 10, 1 BY REV. H. C. HOEJTADY. [Reported by A. K. Marshall, for'The Banner,J Text : Then Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou per3iiade9t me to be a Christian.—[Auto xxvi: 28. I have sometimes thought that this would have been a beautiful scene for the pencil of an accomplished painter —the scene which occurred between the apostle*Paul and king Agrippa. The apostle Paul had been arrested by the .Tews in a very irregular way. What we would call a mob had arrested him, and they were desirous of putting him to death, because they said that being a Jew he had sought to set aside the laws and customs of their forefathers. They regarded him, in other words, as a renegade from the Jewish faith; they looked upon him as one that had betrayed their faith which had grown gray with time, and had been hallowed by its associations ; and because they regarded him in this light they were disposed to put him to death. But the apostle appealed from this infuriated people to Otcsar, or rather he had been taken charge of by one of Cysar’s military officers, and had been sent to Agrippa, who held his authority un der Civ-iar. He had been summoned first by Felix, and then he had been placed be fore the judgment seat of Agrippa. He pleaded his own cause before the judgment seat of these august personages. While he was pleading before Agrippa, and reasoning with him as a Jew—for Agrippa was a Jew, and skilled in all the learning of the Jews—he strengthened his argument before this man by tjnotations from the Scriptures, and by citing him to the authority of the prophets, and appealing to the belief' of Agrippa in the prophets, in order to sustain he line of argument which he had adopted; Dd when Paul appealed to the prophets dth which Agrippa was so familiar, then as uttered the language of this text: Imost thou persuadest me to be a < hris- in. You will remember, in this connection, * language that, was employed by Felix en the apostle Paul reasoned before him righteousness of temperance and ofajudg nt to come; Felix, trembling upon his *, was disposed to put away that influ* i which was so much alFeeting him, by ng: *Go thy way for this time;, when ! \ a convenient season 1 will call ior ' So it seems from the history of these •a, that the sermons of the apostle must been accompanied by divine influence pvrer upon them ; but both of them disposed to put off the day for elosng th the offers of salvation, and in this ft are representative men, or men re Siting large classes, who reason just as lid, feel just its they felt, and act just y acted, t ana not going to apeak for nelit of those rulers, but for that of cis of persons w hich they represent, ping to speak U that class of persons ,ve been made to feel and realise to xteut the importance of religion, and ATLANTA, GEORGIA, OCTOBER 11, 1862. who have been almost ready under the pressure of divine interposition and divine persuasion, to yield their hearts to its claims, and to cast in their lots with the people of God, hut who nevertheless are not disposed to yield to this influence, but steel their hearts against it, and say in their hearts as did Felix : ‘Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season 1 will call for thee.’ Those rulers confessed candidly the impressions on their minds, and I have no doubt wished the apostle to understand this much; but they did not come quite up to the religion which he preached, and to the faith which he pro claimed : ‘Almost,’ is their language, ‘ thou persuadest me to be a Christian.’ I have selected this verse in order to pre sent a single proposition, and to illustrate it if possible. Trie proposition that l de duce from the text is this ; that to be almost a Christian, and no more , is to be hopelessly lost. And 1 propose to illustrate it by a variety of familiar illustrations, so as, if possible, to present it before your mind in a way that you cannot avoid seeing it. I know that if I were to enter into a line of close analytical investigation, 1 might tail to present such an argument before your minds as to convince you of the truth of the proposition, and 1 might fail also to affect your hearts with regard to its impor tance, its absolute importance; and there fore I propose to make a picture of this truth, and to present it before you in order; that its effect may be more lasting. I said that to be almost a Christian, and no more, is to be hopelessly lost. This may seem to be a strong proposition. It is strong, but not stronger than the truth ; | and I shall render it plain by familiar illus- • trations drawn from every day life. It is J well known that things are almost true; which are complete failures. 1 will illus trate the proposition in this way to show you how a person may be almost a Chris tian, and yet fail to be one. Away up in the northwestern portion of the count ry are two very small lakes, neither of them perhaps larger than this room—-both of them so close together that a child might almost make them one— separated by only a narrow ridge of earth; and yet, my friends, one of them is the source of one great river, and the other of another. From these twin lakes these riv ers flow in opposite directions, one of them winding its way through the mountains, and increasing in size until it becomes the mighty Mississippi, and empties into the Gulf of Mexico; the other, pursuing an opposite direction, swells into the Columbia and discharges its waters into the far dis tant Pacific ocean. They are almost one at their start, and yet they diverge more and more until their entrance into the ocean takes place, thousands of miles apart. How near the beginnings, how distant the re sults! So, my friends, you may be almost Christians, come very near the point, and yet in the results you may be as far from it as heaven is from hell. Take another illustration: There is up on the extreme northern coast of this con tinent a little strait, known as Behring’s strait—a belt of water so narrow that it isj thought by some, that when it was frozen over in winter the Indians came across it into this country, and first settled it. It is not more than twenty-five or thirty miles in width, and yet on one side of it is the continent of Asia, and on the other the continent of America, the two differing from each other in soil, in climate, in reli gion, in civilization, in language, and in everv tiling in which one country can differ from another. But for that little strait they would be one and the same country. And so, my friends, there may be but a narrow strait, a little frith, a small stream, that divides a soul from Christ, and yet as regard* results, it is just the sune to that soul as if the great ocean w ere rolling be twem it and happiness. There is another illustration of a geo graphical nature, with which you are all familiar. If we cross over the ocean Into the European Continent, we shall find an" ther strait known as the strait of Dover, separating France front England. \ou can stand, on a clear day, on some of the cliffs on the English side, and look over into France and see the city of Calais, narrow is this strait. The two countries seem scarcely separate the one from the “his banner over” us is “love.” other; and yet on one side of the strait is England, containing a people speaking the English language, with Anglo Saxon habits, Anglo-Saxon institutions, every thing Anglo-Saxon, while on the other side is a people speaking the French language, with institutions, everything French. For cen turies these two kingdoms have been op posed, and many and fierce were the con flicts that took place between the two nations. Indeed the English are not more diverse from the distant Russians than they are from the French, whose country lies so nearly adjacent to theirs. And so my friends it is in regard to the man that is almost a Christian ; there is but a narrow strait between his soul and Christ, and yet, so far as results are concerned, a great ocean rolls between —a great Arabian des ert intervenes. Take another illustration: There i9 a little stream or rivulet, rendered sacred in song by one of Britain’s noblest poets, across which a shepherd might step. On cither side of this stream the grass grows green, and bright wave the fields—a nar row, nameless stream which a child might almost stop with his feet —and yet on one side of this stream is Spain and on the other Portugal, two rival kingdoms with different peoples,different laws, different institutions, different languages, different feelings. They are almost one ; but for this narrow stream they would be one. So with the Christian; while at onetime but a narrow stream may separate between him and Christ, in the j result, or end, a vast waste may intervene. To be almost a Christian, and not to be one, is to be hopelessly lost. Another illustration of the sane nature presents itself. There is a strait which has ; been consejrated in history, and embalmed in the records of rival nations. They call it the Straits of Gibraltar. On one side is Spain, with European laws, European reli gion, everything European ; on the other side is dark, benighted, mysterious Africa, with its sable sons, with its savage customs, its want of institutions, its destitution of religion, its dark and mysterious records, separate and distinct from Spain as though its people had been the inhabitants of ano-, ther sphere. Only a narrow strait, which the Moor sometimes crossed over ; and but for that strait the two countries would be 5 one and united. So, my friends, there may ; be but a narrow strait between your soul and Christ, and yet you may be separated as far as was the rich man from Lazarus, when in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment, But 1 will leave these familiar illustra tions and present some of another class. You recollect, my friends, that God pro mised the land of Canaan to the Jews, and they began their exodus from the.; land of Egypt to that land of promise, with eager, anxious hearts. They werej guided in their journey through the intervening wilderness by the pillar of cloud: by day and the pillar of fire by night; but still, though this people had such visibb token of the Divine presence, they were re- j bell ions, stiff necked, and because they re-; belled against Moses and against God, not withstanding they went so near to the land j of Canaan, none of them were permitted to; i enter. Mark, my friends, this people w-cre led along by the Almighty fora long time,! land until they were almost in possession of! The land; but when they rebelled God turned them back into the wilderness in j which they were compelled to march for fnrtv long and tedious years, until every one that had set out of Egypt above the; age of twenty years perished, except Caleb } and Joshua. This is another striking illus ! tration of the proposition, that to be almost a Christian, and nothing more, is to be hopelessly lost. This people were almost lin possession of the bind of Canaan, but they never were permitted to enter it. And, my friends, there are comparatively more people lost of the class that are al most persuaded to be Christians, than of jany other class of men. There is a still more striking illustration of the proposition which we are illustrating, to be found in the history of the Jews. There were Moses and Aaron, who had received special marks of divine favor— one of them as the leader of God’s chosen people, and the other as priest of the Most High God. Aaron had often made inter | cession for the children of Israel, and as their priest, had offered up acceptable sa crifices ; but because he had refused to sanctify the Lord in his heart, and had been inclined to idolatry, the Lord commanded him to go up on Mount Hir, and there lay aside his priestly garments, and there his carcass was left as an ever-to-be-remembered instance of one who had almost come in complete possession of the promised re ward, but yet who still completely and en tirely failed. From that, mountain he could look far over into the land of Canaan ; he could see the distant Lebanon with its shaking cedars, the hills covered with their cattle, and the vineyards covered with their purple fruit; but into that land, “flowing with milk and honey,” he was never to enter. Moses, too, who was the chosen leader of the children of Israel, is another striking illustration of the almost Christian. He accompanied the Jews out of Egypt, and had bright prospects of entering the land of Canaan ; but because he had spoken un advisedly with his lips, and had trails, gressed the commandment of the Lord, he was suffered to go on the top of Mount Pis gah and overlook the beautiful land, and see its waving fields and harvests, its beau tiful mountains, its gushing fountains, its enchanting prospects; he could almost realize the possession of the long wished for Canaan, but he never was permitted to enter on the possession of it. And so, my friends, it is with the man who is almost persuaded to be a Christian. Moses might feel the balmy breath that came from the flowers of Canaan, might inhale the delight ful odor that was wafted from the fields laden with delicious fruit, might hear the sweet music of its gurgling brooks, but. for him there was no passage over Jordan. So with the sinner. He may be carried for ward by Divine influence until he can see the land of promise, the tree of life, the sun capped towers, until he can hear the ran somed strike the lyres and tune their harps; he can listen to the sweet music that comes up from the heavenly choirs, but yet he is never to enter into that rest which is pre pared for the people of God. He may be almost a child of God, and yet a child of Satan ; he may be almost a saint, and yet quite a devil; he may be almost in heaven, and yet be quite sure of hell; he may be almost saved, and yet be finally damned. My friends, your souls are too precious to be lost in this way. Some of you have but a step to take, and you are Christians. Why will you not take it? Will yon not w-ear the crown of joy- which Christ will give in that great day 1 If so, then be not almost Christians, but altogether, and you shall then not almost, but altogether realise the joys of the paradise of (rod. Luther’s Description of a Christian.— A Christian is a child of God, a brother of Christ, a temple of the Holy Ghost, an heir of the kingdom, a companion of angels, a master over the world, and a partaker of the divine nature. A Christian’s honor is Christ in heaven, and the honor of Christ is a Christian upon earth. He is a worthy child of God, clothed with the righteousness of Christ, and walking in holy fear and willing obedience before his Father. He shines as a light in the world, and as a rose among thorns. He is a wonderfully beautiful creature of the grace of God, over which angels rejoice, and which they every where attend with pleasure. He is a won der of the world, the alarm of devils, the ornament of the Church, the desire of hea ven. Ilia heart is full of fire, his eyes full of w ater, his mouth full of sighs, and his hands full of good works. Power of Prayer. —Prayer has divi vified seas, rolled up flowing rivers, made flinty rocks gush into fountains, quenched flames of fire, muzzled lions, disarmed vi pers and poisons, marshalled the stars against the wicked, stopped the course of the moon, arrested the sun in his rapid race, burst open iron gates, recalled souls from eternity, conquered the strongest de vils, commanded legions of angels down from heaven. Prayer has bridled and chained the raging passions of man, and routed and destroyed vast armies of proud, daring, blustering atheists. Prayer has brought one man from the bottom of the sea, and carried another in a chariot of fire to heaven! What has not prayer done ? TERMS —Three Dollars a-year. ‘AH Tliy Works Praise Thee.’ It was a dark and dismal night when the brave Almeida’s ship stood off* and on the coast of the fragrant island Ceylon. With a stout heart and a bold hand he had sailed in seas unknown. Day after day, the smooth, glassy surface had shown him only his own vessel’s graceful rigging and quick ly rocking hull, until famine began to shed pallor on the face of the bravest of his fol lowers ; and his own proud Portuguese soul felt terrors creeping over it, and des pair even menaced life. So they prayed to their saints and their God, and He heard them. The waves curled in silvery crests, the huge sails hailed the coming breeze, and at last the sweetest of sweet sounds on the wide ocean, the gentle wash of the wa ters up the ship’s bow, greeted the ear of the anxious mariner. At night, dark moun tains rose on the far horizon, and “ Land !” shouted the exulting watch from the mast head. And, as dusky shadows covered the sea, fresh, sweet odors came from that dis tant land. Bright fires—oh, how- welcome a sight! —were seen rising; and even the voices of men were heard in strange, unin telligible accents. But what was that voice which, all of a sudden, swelled on the air, and like magic, filled their minds with unutterable sorrow 1 Now it seemed to rise from the daik depths by their side, and now it came far and faint as from a distant world. At one moment, it broke in fierce, fearful cries, and then again it sank to such melancholy complaining, that anguish seized on their souls, and tears trickled down their rugged and weather-beaten faces. They crossed themselves; they fell on their knees: and even their fearless leader implored the Lord on high to spare their lives and to guard their souls against the powers of Sa-. tan ! Often were those deep, mournful sounds heard in those distant, waters, and many were the accounts that science and superstition gave of the fearful “ "Voice of the Devil.” Or was it, as some fondly be lieved, even in our own age, thf mysterious utterance of the Spirit of Nature, dwelling in our globe and in the vast realms of cre ation ? Later days brought other expla nations. There were enormous gullies there, it is said, and narrow passes cut through the gigantic mountains, so that the rushing of winds and the roaring of waters played as on an dßoliau harp of colossal size. Our day has at last torn the veil of su perstition and fancy, and replaced a tale of impossible wonders by facts of even more marvellous beauty. There lives near the shores of Ceylon a large and most gorgeous shell-fish, and when the light <>f the moon rests dreaming on the bosom of the ocean, and gentle breezes, laden with fragrance, come cooling and calming from distant homes, it opens its bright colored lips, and pours forth its mild and melancholy music, that the breakers on shore are heard no longer, and the heart of man is moved. It was surely not said in vain, nor W'as it a mere figure of speech, when the Psalmist exclaimed : “All thy works praise Thee, O Lord.” For all creation unites in the vast hymn of praise that daily rises to Ilis throne on high. The morning stars ever sing in the heavens; the mountains echo back the voice of thunders; the earthquake replies to the roar of the tempest, and even the tiny insect, in its mazy dance, adds a feeble note that is heard by Him. [Stray Leaves from the Book of Nature. Life is no Trifle. —One drop of w ater helps to swell the ocean ; a spark of fire helps to give light to the world. You are a small man passing amid the crowd, you are hardly noticed ; but you have a drop, a spark within you, that may be felt through eternity. Do you believe it ? Set that drop in motion ; give wings to that spark, and behold the results. It may renovate the world. None are too small, too feeble, or too poor to be of service. Think of this and act. Life is no trifle. — The virtue of prosperity is temperance : the virtue of adversity is fortitude. It is the perfection of happiness neither to wish for death nor to fear it. Flattery is a sort of bad money, to which our vanity gives currency. Health is the greatest of all bodily pleas ures, but the least thought of. NO. 47.