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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.