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THE BAPTIST BANNER
BY JAS. N. ELLS & CO.
VOL. IV.
<§npibt JUnwr,
DEVOTED TO RELIGION AND LITERATURE,
Is published every Saturday, at Atlanta, Georgia, at the
subscription price of three dollars per year.
jamsis n. Ells & co,
Proprietors.
THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE.
Where the silver brook went dancing
Beneath the green trees’ shade;
W here the birds that sing in summer,
Their nests in beauty made ;
Where the little path wound gently
Around the green hill’s base,
And the vines that waved above it,
Bent down with careless grace,—
Stood the dear remembered school-house,
Its lattice green with vines,
Where the music rose up sweetly
Through the bright leaves of the pints;
Thete the beaming eye of childhood
Brightly shone with joy and mirth,
Undi nmed by all the sorrows
That haunt the path of earth.
There the silver laugh rang gaily
Upon the quiet air.
And the voice of childhood’s pleasure
Was echoed sweetly there;
There the tones of holy worship
Went up in prayer above,
And the hymn in notes of music
Swell’d to the Throne of Love.
And when memory looketh backward,
Through life’s mingled bliss and care,
The dear old school-house riseth,
A star of beauty there;
And when remembrance casteth
On by-gone days her light,
Those school days rise before me
With beauteous radiance bright
Children and their Ways.
I REMEMBER a little boy who was a
lexicographer from his birth, a lan
guage-master, and a philosopher. From
the hour he was able to ask for a piece of
bread and butter, he never hesitated for a
word—not he ! If one would not serve,
another would, with a little twisting and
turning. He assured me one day, when I
was holding him by the hand rather more
tightly than he wished, (he was but just
able to speak at the time,) that I should
choke his hand.
At another, he came to me, all out of
breath, to announce that a man was below
shaving the wall. Upon due inquiry, it
turned out that he was only white-washing.
But how should he know the difference be
tween white wash and lather, a big brush
and a little one ?
I have heard another complain of a
school-fellow for winking at him with his
lip; and he took the affront very much to
heart, I assure you, and would not be paci
fled till the matter was cleared up. Other ■
children talk about the bones in peaches;
and others, when they have the tooth-ache,
aver that it burns them. Os such is the
empire of poetry.
I have heard another give a public chal
lenge, in these words, to every child that
came near, as she sat upon the door step, >
with a pile of tamarin l-stones, nut shells
and pebbles lying before her. “Ah! I have
got many er than you ! ” That child was a
more regular grammarian than Lindley
Murray.
Never shall 1 forget another incident
w hich occurred in my presence between two
other boys. One was trying to jump over
a wheel-barrow. Another was going by;
he stopped, and, after considering a mo-;
ment, spoke. “ I’ll tell you what you can’t
do,” said he. “Well, what is it?” “You 1
can’t jump down your ow n throat.” “Well,
you can’t.” “Can t I though?" The aim
plicity of “Well, you can’t,” and the ro
guishness of “Can’t I though?” tickled me
prodigiously.
‘ I say it is white oak.” “I say it is red
oak.” “Well, Isay it is white oak.” “I
tell you it is not white-oak.” Here they
had joined issue for the first time. “ 1 say
it is not.” “ I will bet you ten thousand
dollars of it.” “Well, I will bet you ten
ten thousand dollars.” Such were the very
words of a conversation 1 have just heard
between two children, the elder six, the
other about live. Were not these minia
ture men?
“Well, my lad, have you been to church,
hey?” “Yes, sir.” “And who preached
for you?” “Mr. D .” “Ah! and
w hat'd id he say ?” “I can not remember,
sir; he put me out so.” “ Put you out ?
“Yes, sir; he kept looking at my new
clothes all church time ! ” That child must
have been a close observer. M ill anybody
tell me that he did not know what some |
people go to church for ?
Il was but yesterday that 1 passed a fat
little girl, with large hazel eyes, sitting by
herself in a gateway, with her feet stretch- :
ing straight out into the street. She was
holding a book in one hand, and, with a bit
of stick in the other, was pointing to the
letters. “What is that ? ” cried she, in a
*weet. chirping voice, "hey? look on! what
is that, 1 say ? F. No—o—o—oh !” sha
king her little head w ith the air of a school
mistress who has made up her mind not to
be trifled with.
A teacher of a school in South Carolina
narrates the following incident :
In consequence of the death of a friend,
it was necessary for her to leave her school
oue atternoon. She did not dismiss her
a soufUOTs asb s'amw? awswS.
scholars, but hit on the following plan of
leaving them : Happening to have a large,
old-fashioned slate, she wrote on it the
names of the pupils in the order in which
they sat. Having placed the slate in her
arm chair, she addressed the school thus:
“ Now, children, I am compelled to be
absent the remainder of this afternoon. I
have written all your names on my big
slate. When the clock strikes five, 1 wish
each one of you to leave her seat in proper
order, gn to the chair, and place on the slate
against her name a straight mark for good
behavior, and a cross for bad behavior.—
When I return, I shall examine the slate,
and in the morning, when you are assem
bled, I shall read the list aloud. Mean
while I trust in you.”
On her return at night, she visited the
school-room, and examined the slate. She
found but one cross, and that one—where
she least expected it—against the name of
a beautiful, bright, truthful child, —the last
girl in the school that would have betn
suspected of misconduct.
The next morning the list was read, and
proved correct. When she came to this
name, the teacher said, “My dear child,
you must explain; why is this? What
did you do t ”
Looking up with swimming eyes, and
speaking in a voice full of emotion, the
child replied, “I laughed aloud; I laughed
aloud two or three times. But I could not
help it; I could not help laughing to see a
I slate keeping school.”
An American missionary lately returned
home from India, where he had passed sev
eral years, and where his youngest child
was born. This child, a little girl of four
or five years, had never seen snow or felt
wintry weather. One November morning
she beheld from the window’ the earth whi
tened with a slight covering of snow. As
tonished and elated at the discovery, “Oh,
papa, papa,” she exclaimed; “come, look
here! Somebody has been painting the
ground ! ”
The following instances close our illus
trations of children and their ways:
A distinguished Georgia lawyer says
that, in his younger days, he taught a boys’
school, and required the pupils to write
compositions. He received some of a very
peculiar sort, of w hich two specimens are
given :
“On Industry.—lt is a bad thing for
man to be idle. Industry is the best thing
a man can have, and a wife is the next.—
Prophets and kings desired it long, and died
without the sight. The end.”
“ On the Seasons.—There are four sea
sons—spring, summer, autumn and winter.
They are all pleasant. Some people may
like spring best; but as for me, give me
liberty or give me death. The end.”
“ DON’T STAY LONG.”
It is rarely, indeed, that we have read
anything more truthfully pathetic than the
subjoined waif, which we find floating
among our exchanges. Would that every
husband might read and profit by it:
“ Don’t stay long, husband,” said a young
wife tenderly one evening, as her husband
was preparing to go out. The words them
selves were insignificant,* but the look of
melting son Iness with which they were ac
i companied, spike volumes. It told all the
, whole vast depths of a woman’s love—of
her grief, when the light of his smile,' the
source of all her joy, beamed not brightly
upon her.
“ Don’t stay long, husband,” and I fan
cied I saw the loving, gentle wife sitting
alone, anxiously’ counting the moments of
her husband’s absence, every few moments
running to the door to see if he was ih siuht,
and, finding that he was not, I thought 1
could hear her exclaiming iu disappointed
tones, “ Not y et."
“ Don’t stay long, husband,” and 1 have
thought I could see the young wife rocking
nervously in the great arm chair, and weep |
as though her heart would break, as her ;
thoughtless “ lord and master ” prolonged
his stay to a wearisome length of time.
O, you that have wives to say, “ Don’t
stay long,” when you go forth, think of her
kindly when you are mingling in the busy
hive of life, and try, just a little, to make
their homes and hearts happy, for they are
gems too seldom replaced. You can not j
find, amid the pleasures of the world, the
peace and joy that a quiet home, blessed
l with such a woman’s presence, will afford.
I “ Don’t stay long, husband,’’ and the;
young wife’s look seemed to say,' for h&re,l
i in your own sweet home, is a loving heart, i
whose music is hushed when you are ab-1
sent; here is a soft breast for you to lay
your head upon, and here pure lips, unsoil
ed by sin, that will pay you with kisses for
coming back soon. ’
Christ's Yoke.—“My yoke is easy,”
said the Saviour. Easy when grace makes
it so ; a light burden, indeed, w hich carries
him who bears it. “ I have looked through
all nature.” says old Bernard, “for a resem
blance of this, and 1 seem to find it in the
wings of a bird, w hich are indeed borne by
the creature, yet support her flight towards
■ I heaven.”
ATLANTA, GA., SATURDAY, MAY 23, 1863.
HIS BANNER OVER US IS LOVE.
The Ball Room Belle.
She stands beneath the dazzling glare
From chanHelier and bracket sned,
With milky pearls twin’d in her hair,
And roses wreathed about her head;
With haugnty eye she views the scene,
And finders with her fan the while—
She moves sedately as a queen,
And is more chary of her smile.
A broldered bodice, cut full low
To give a glimpse of tempting charms,
And loping sleeves, designed to show -
The matchless beauty of her arms.
From many a golde i-plaited loop.
And trimmed with laces o’er and o’er,
Her ski ts of snowy satin droop
In folds voluptuous to the floor.
And near—like courtiers roend their liege—
Her flatterers stand, contented well
To teem to share in that prestige
Which clings around the bail room belle.
Or would she dance —and halt the room
Are proud to bend at her command—
How gayly smile* the one to whom
Bhe condescends to give her hand!
O, lady I list awhile to me:
Although there’s beauty in your face,
Your form so light and fair to see.
Your dancing full of ease and grace—
Ob! do not deem they love you true
Who flutter round where’er you move;
Their hearts will never break for you—
Men co not honor dolls with love.
You answer well for their caprice,
To dance and flirt an Lour or so;
But, ah! your shallow sway shall cease
When ball room lights do flicker low.
When morning to the world doth bring
Its real light and aims sublime,
You are forgot—a trivial thing,
A toy uusuited to the time.
God gave to you a nobler part:
To soothe thi- ills of human life,
To cheer when cares oppress the heart,
And act the angel in the wife.
So put your foolish fancies by,
And lay your ball room sceptre down ;
Be modest, earnest, true, and try
To win the perfect woman’s crown.
COMMUNION WITH CHRIST
“‘Art thou any kind of tree?’ said an
eastern sage to a lump of odoriferous earth,
which he picked up in a grove; ‘thou
charmest me with thy fragrance.’ It an
swered him, ‘ I am only a vile piece of
clay; but I dwell for some time with the
rose.’ ”
How strikingly does this fable illustrate
the influence of fellowship with Christ,
“the Rose of Sharon!” VYe dwell near
Him through His word, ne. rer through his
Spirit, nearer still through His own person
al divine presence; and this intimate com
munion imparts to ns the fragrance of His
holiness, love, meekness, long-suffering, zeal
for the Father, hatred of sin, and deadness
to the world. We grow like Him. We
come more and more to think as He thought,
to feel as He felt, to live as He lived.—
Such is the exalted privilege of the believ
er; and happy they who do not willingly
fail of the grace of God in this regard.
On this subject, Jeremy Taylor says, in
his characteristic style : ‘ As those creatures
that live among the snows of the mountains
turn white, with their food and conversa.
tion with such perpetual whitenesses—so
our souls may be formed into the simili
tude and union with Christ, by our perpet
ual feeding on Him, and conversation, not
only in His courts, but in His very heart,
and most secret affections, and incompara
ble purity.”
Are we writing a page from your expe
rience, reader? How we pity you, if we
are not! How we rejoice with you, if we
are!
DISCIPLINE OF THE YOUNG.
The oldest son of President Edwards,
congratul-ting a friend on having a family
of sons, said to him with much earnestness :
“ Remember, there is but one mode of fam
ily government. I have brought up and
educated fourteen boys, two of whom 1
brought, or rather suffered, to grow up
without the rod. One of those was mj
youngest brother, and the other Aaron
Burr, my sister’s only son, both of whom
had lost their parents in their childhood;:
I and from both my observation and experi
ence, I tell you, sir, a maple-sugar govern-!
ment will never answer. Beware how you 1 ,
let the first act of disobedience in your lit-;,
tie boys go unnoticed and, unless evidence;
of repentance be manifest, unpunished.” i
“ Os all the sermons I have heard,” said
the narrator, “ long or short, this has been
among the most useful, as far as this world
iis concerned. It is a solemn lesson, to be
' prayerfully pondered by all parents and
I guardians.” The Bible lays down four
J great rules, involving the four great ele-1
ments of the successful training of children'
—prayer, instruction,exampleand restraint.
And it is doubted if a solitary case can be!
■found where all these have been united,
where the children have not followed in the
footsteps of the pious parent ; while, on the
' other hand, if buttinly one of the four have
i been neglected, it may have been the ruin
■ of the child.
Remember, Christian parents, it is not
I enough to pray for, or even with yourchil-
I dren, if your own example contradicts your
teaching; and in vain will be the prayer,
i i the example, if, like Eli, when your children
i'do wrong, you “ restrain them not.” But
J let all be found united, and in all be found
• faithful to your duty, and you may trust
■'inGod that He will fulfil* His promise,
•, and that your children will grow up to
, serve Him", and to bless you for yourfidel-
I ity to their highest interest.
NEGLECTING THE SOULS OF OTHERS.
Among the “unfounded and foolish opin
ions which pass current for- genuine truth
with a great majority of our spe?ies,” Dick
mentions this—“ that a candle made of hu
man fat, when lighted, will prevent a per
son asleep from waking.” If this opinion
were true, what execrations would mankind
heap on the ty ant, who, to procure can
dles that might prolong his broken slum
bers, should visit hundreds of women and
children, yearly, with an undeserved death!
And yet that would be as nothing in com
parison with the cruelty of Satan, “ the
murderer from the beginning.” By the
false, deceiving lights of this world, he pre
vents his dupes from shaking off their deep
carnal sleep, which might be better charac
ized as stupefaction. Much of the fashion
and amusement, more of th® glory and gain,
and nil of the vice, which make up the life
of the ungodly, are lights kindled (so to
speak) from the fat of slaughtered souls,
for they confirm the sinner’s impenitence,
until sin—having first made him the instru
ment of destruction to the souls of others
—destroys his soul also!
If we would scorn the nation that failed
to rise in its might against the tyrant who
butchered his people to secure sleep-pro
longing candles; if we would account each
individual in that nation as guilty of the
blood thus iniquitously shed, because he
did not do his part to arrest its shedding—
what shall we say of Christians who work
not, to the utmost of their ability, against
the more desolating ferocity of Satan ? •
Such Christians there are— Christians in■
name, at least—whose course of life toward
the ungodly would not undergo perceptible
change, if theannouncement were made from
heaven that no sinner should die, and pass
beyond the reach of effort, for twelve
months to come. They are now living as
though sinners were never to die, and
therefore needed no effort to ensure their!
salvation. Shall we saj of these, that they
facilitate the soul-murdering of Satan, and
share his guilt on that account? Let us
rather bemoan than denounce them. Alas!
the process of murder has already com
menced on their souls; they are themselves
among the victims that need to be rescued;
•nd if they hope for safety, this is but a de
lusive dream that keeps them from awaking
out of -fatal slumbers—slumbers fatal to
“ the soul, on which a moral law is written,
in which a divine oracle is heard,” and,
therefore, oh, how priceless !
FAITH.
“ Now faith is the substance of things
hoped for, the evidence of thingsnot seen.”
Heb. 11: 1. This is the sense of the text,
which, setting things hoped for in opposi
’ tion to thing’s present, and things unseen to
those that sense doth apprehend, assures us
that faith, which fixeth on the first, doth
give to its object a subsistence, presence
and evidence: that is, it seeth that which
supplieth the want of presence and visibil
-1 ity. The substance is thatwlfch is equal to J
a present subsistence; and the evidence is
somewhat which is equal to visibility. As
if he had said, “Though the glory promis
ed to believers, and expected by them, is
yet to come, and only hoped for, and be yet
unseen, and only believ'ed, yet is the sound
believer as truly affected with it, and acted
upon by its attractive force, as if it were
present and before his eye; as a man is by i
an inheritance, estate in reversion, or out!
of sight, if well secured, and not only by
that which is present to his view.” The
iSyriac interpreter, instead of a translation,!
gives us a true exposition of the words::
namely, “Faith is a certainty of those!
1 things which are in hope, as if
ready actually exist ; and the revelation of,
those things that are not seen.’— [Baxter. ;
'the covenant of circumcision.
■ I
Rev. Dr. Emmons, a distinguished Con ,
gregational divine, holds the following lan- ,
guage : There is no evidence, in the New
Testament, that believers are no a in the
covenant of circumcision, but clear evidence
to the contrary. F<»r, they are neither un
der obligation toperform the duties of the 1
covenant, nor entitled to any of its peculiar 1 1
blessings. The bond of that covenant does
not lie upon them ; for they are not requir- !
ed to circumcise either themselves or their !
families. And it is equally evident that''
thev are not entitled to any of the peculiar 1
blessings of that covenant. In that cove
! nant God promised to give Abraham a nu
merous posterity ; but He makes no such
promise to believers under the Gospel. In
that covenant God promised that Abraham’s
seed should possess the land of Canaan ; but
He makes no such promise to believers un
der the gospel. In that covenant God-prom
ised that Abraham's seed should enjoy great
temporal prosperity; but lie makes no such
promise to believers under the gospel. In
that covenant, God promised that the Mes
siah should descend from his family ; but
that promise’was fully accomplished ; n the
incarnation of Christ.”
, In all yowr actions remember that God
> sees you ; and in ail His actions endeavor
-ito see Him. That will make you fear
j Him; this will make you love Him.
TERMS Three Dollars a-year.
MISTAKEN CONFIDENCE.
Do you think that your sins are washed
i away in Christ’s blood, when they are here
still, and you are committing them? —
Would they be here, And you doing them,
if they were put away? Do you think
that your sins can be put away out of God’s
sight, if they are not even put out of your
own sight? If you are doing wrong, do
you think that God will treat you as if you
were doing right? Can not God see in
you what you can see yourselves? Do
you think a man can be clothed in Christ’s
righteousness at the very same time that
he is clothed in his own rghteousness ?
Can he be good and bad at once? Do you
think a man can be converted—that is,
turned round—when he is going on his old
road the whole week? Do you think a
man has repented—that is, changed in mind
—when he is in just the same mind as ever,
as to how he shall behave to his family, his
customers, and everybody with whom he
has to do ? Do you think that a man is
renewed by God’s Spirit, when, except for
a few religious phrases and a little more
outside respectability, he is just the old
man, the same character at heart he ever
was? Do you think that there is any use
in a man’s belonging to a number of be
lievers, if he does not do what he believes;
or any use in thinking that God has elected
and chosen him, when he chooses not to do
what God has chosen that every man must
do or die?— [Kingsley.
AN OLD-TIME_EXTORTIONER.
When our Lord passed through Jericho,
there was a little fellow there, “as despica
ble in manners as in shape,” who climbed
up into a sycamore tree to get a sight of
Him. Although he had over-reached many
a man in a bargain, and dealt in the tallest
kind of extortion, he was too small of stat
ure to look over the heads of the crowd,
and therefore he perched himself, like a
cormorant, among the branches of the tree.
When Jesus saw him, He directed him to
come down and receive Him as a guest at
his house, to which the old Shylock joyful
ly consented. His conscience had, doubt
less, inflicted on him many a twinge for his
unconscionable dealings with his fellow
men, with whom he was in bad odor, as
“the chief among the publicans and very
rich,” and he was anxious that some sort
of respectability should be given to his house
by so distinguished a visitor. This is an
old trick of the vampires, trying to keep up
appearances by respectable associations.—
But so notorious was the character of the
old caitiff that all the Jerichoans wondered
that so respectable a man as Jesus should
become his guest. They were not aware
that He went there, not to quaff his rich
wines and enjoy his dainty fare—as modern
flatterers do.—but to give him a lecture
upon his rascalities. That His plain deal
ing was not in vain is evident from the fact
that the culprit was so wrought upon that
he formed the purpose of immediate and
{ample restitution: “ Behold, Lord, the half
of my goods 1 give to the poor; and if I
have taken anything from any man by false
accusation, I restore him fourfold.”
Our modern extortioners are not quite
as generous as Zaccheus; he gave half of
his property to the poor, and restored four
fold of the exactions he had made. They
(content themselves with giving a tithe—a
. pittance —of their unrighteous gains to the
families of the poor soldiers, and restoring .
!to the government a small portion of the
tribute which they have extorted front it.
i And yet we apprehend that their victims
seldom express the indignation which was
{manifested by the people of Jericho. In
stead of wondering at the deference paid
them, they unwisely conspire for their ex
altation to places of honor and profit. If
all who were tainted with this moral lepro-
sy were secluded from social intercourse
until they were purified by repentance and
restitution, the dread of the penalty might
prevent the commission of the crime.
[Confederate Baptist.
The Progress .of Life.—Men rejoice
when the sun has risen—they rejoice also
when the sun goes down—while they are
unconscious of the decay of their own lives.
Men rejoice on seeing the face of a new
season, as at the arrival of one greatly de
sired. Nevertheless, the revolution cf one
season is the decay of man. Fragments of
driftwood, meeting in the wide ocean, con
tinue together a little space; thus parents,
wives, children, friends and riches remain
with us a short time, then separate —the
separation is inevitable. No mortal csti
escape the common lot; he who mourns
for departed relatives, has no power to
: cause them to return. One standing on the
road would readily say to a number of per
sons passing by, “I will follow you;” why,
then, should a person grieve when journey
ing the same road which has been assured
ly travelled by our forefathers ? Life re
sembles a cataract running down with ir
resistible impetuosity. Knowing that the
end of life is death, every right-minded
man ought z to pursue that which is connect-
I ed with happiness and ultimate bliis.
r Remember, after the first of June, the
i price of ‘ The Banner ’ will be per year.
NO, 27.