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THE BAPTIST BANNER. BY DAYTON, ELLS & CO. VOLUME IV. DEVOTED TO RELIGION AJfD'LITERATURE, la published every Saturday, at Atlanta, Georgia, at the subscription price of four dollars per year. DAYTON, ELLS & CO., Proprietors. A. C. DAYTON. JAS. N. ELLS. 3. D NILES ~THE WIFE. On earth to man there is but one Hia h»-art can love, his soul can own ; Though myriads flit before his view, * There is but one to'whom he’s true— That one can sway him to and fro, Can make him drain the cup of woe, Can give him joy or blast his life, . And that one’s name is simply Wife. But in lb at name a world is spread, A world by all believed, revered, Who have the sense to know its worth, And spurn the gaudy joys of earth; For that full heart in her dear breast, If rightly prized, eternal rest Is scarce with blissful sweets more rife Than that pure heart—a loving.wife. {For The Baptint Banner.} HOW TO TRY THEM. [concluded.] “You seem, Mr. Tonyad, to be much more ready to show that my church is not’ in the scriptures than to enable me to find yours there.” “I simply desire to show you what was necessary to make a church of any kind, viz: It must have a membership, and authority must be. somwhefe to exercise discipline and preserve the organization in its purity. 1 showed you that the mem bership of the New-Testarhent churches was composed exclusively of professed be lievers —so is that of ours—but yours is not. Then i showed you that the ultimate authority to govern was, in your church, vested in the preachers assembled in confer ence; but that there was no such arrange ment in the scripture churches. The govern merit in them was in each local church" or, as you call it, society. This appears frornsever al places.butespecially from 1 C0r.,5 : 1-13 and 2 Cor. 2:1 —ll, from which it ap pears that a person guilty ofagreatsin was to be cist out by the church when it was assembled together; and upon his repent ance they were entreated, by the Apostle,to restore him to fellowship. It appears from Rom. 14: 1, that it was'the church and not the class-leader or preacher who was to re ceive members. And from Rev. 2: 14, 15 20, it appears that the church has power.to t cast out false teachers. Now, this is the case with our Baptist churches. The power to do all these things is in the church, in the assembly of the brethren, not in some strange preacher sent there by a bishop or some other outsider to rule over them.— But I see you are growing Impatient, and it is not possible to crowd all that I would like to say into one conversation ; so 1 will only ask you to read the scriptures I men tioned—and then continue to search in the Bible for those things in which ybur vhurch differs from mine, remembering that we can’t both be right except in those things wherein we are agreed. “What are the things in which we differ?” “I. IPe differ about baptism. \S e hold : immersion to he the only baptism : .Ist, be cause the word rendered baptism-when the New Testament was written meant to .im merse, and is so defined now in the lexicons of the Greek language. 2d. Because those who were baptized by John were baptized in the river of Jordan, and the Kunuch who was baptized by Philip went with him down into the water, and after he was bap tized came up out.of the water. 3d. Because . the apostle Paul twice say* we are with Christ in our baptism. \ou weie not buried when you were baptized. “|| Then ire differ about jrho are to be baptized. We hold“tliat whosoever believ eth is to bo baptized. Those whom John baptized were such as confessed- their sins. The converts who were baptized at Samaria - Nets 8: 12 rst believed Philip and * were then baptized,‘both men and women ; but not a word is said about their infant children, and we have never been able to find a single place where an infant or any other unbeliever was commanded to be lapt.zed, or where the rites were conferred on sin h a one.. . • “HI Then we disagree about the terms of ip i'< tl" <*«'<■>'■ Your Church fixes the conditions of membership by a huh b.,.,k called the Discipline, and has chained them probably a dozen times or more since it ms organized, and wdl Prob abh coi tinue to change them every few rears as long as it ba? any existence. We find otjr conditions of membership only in the Bible, an-i believe that no power earth has am right to change t icnr “IV. Another peeuliabty of your church is, that the power Koexdude a Inem ber or inflict diaeipl n* * n :he P r * achcr or a committee selected by him, and in the Msembh ot the preachers called the con ference. Bat the B-ble knows nothing ot any such assembly as exercising discipline a jajsaaesmra ahb b®wwA?«a. over members of the church. It gave this power to the members themselves." You make the church a monarchy; we make it a democracy. But enough. I refer to all these particulars merely to illustrate a general rule which will apply to any other church as well as yours. It is this : There are some things in which all denominations agree. They are so manifestly in the Bible that no one disputes their being there. You all agree, for instance, that believers ought to be baptized. In this you are like the. Baptists. But now almost all others say that infants ought also to be baptized; but you can’t show it in the Bible. No one can find-one word there which requires it or authorizes it. There is neither command to do it, nor example of its beingdone. Now give up what is not in the Bible, and you become in this thing a Baptist. You all agree that immersion is baptism. In this you are like the Baptists. You all practice immersion at times, and so admit that we are right. Immersion is in the Bible—John immersed in the river of Jordan; the Eu nuch went down into the water and came , up out of the water. The Romans and Collosians were buried with Christ in bap tism. Immersion, it is granted by the best scholars of all denominations, was practiced by the churches for many agrs before sprinkling; so the Baptists are right. But you all say you are right, too —sprinkling will do just as well. But is’that in the Bible? No one can find it there. Hence, when you give up w hat is not in theßible, you become a Baptist in this respect. “ You all agree that baptized believers ought to be members of the church. That is in the Bible ; the Baptists are right in holding this. But you all say that baptized babies are, in some sense, members, though just in what sense you cannot agree; and you Methodists hold that unconverted and unbaptized seekers are members also. Now is that in the Bible ? You can’t find it; and hence when you give up what is not in the Bible you become a Baptist in this thing. What we ask ofall denominations is simply to bring the things wherein we differ to the Bible, and give up all that men have added to the word of God ; then till w ill become Baptists. You think this very unreas na ble ; but we-think it is very scriptural. — You think it is very selfish ; but we think it is only what we are bound to do if we would obey the word of the Lord. . You think it is bigotry; we think it is obedience. You blame us tor not giving more consid eration to your opinions and practices;, we blame you for not giving more earnest heed to the scriptures of Truth. You call us hard names; and we pray God to give you better hearts, not towards us, but towards ‘ the faith once delivered to the saints.’ “ You agree with us that when sweshall stand before ITim in judgment we will all be judged according to the things written in the Book. Why should we, then, be indif ferent as to whether we were in all things like the pattern given in the Book ? But when we talk thus, you tell us that the ex ternals of religion are not essential to salva tion, if your heart is right that is enough. But the Bible does not fay this ; it knows nothing of our essentials in religion. Any thing that God commands is essential to obedience, if not to salvation ; and external i things are essential to the true church of Christ, for its whole organization and order and ordinances are external. There can ba no true church that is not essentially scrip- tural’in externals.” “It seems as though it must be so, sir, and yet 1 can’t, help thinking we are all right. 1 admit y»»u Baptists have the most scripture and the plainest; but we must have some, or else our preachers would not insist so much th it we are right. I would not be as illiberal as you Baptists are for any thing." A. C. D. * The Time is Short. —All the realitv of eterrfity is suggest ed by these words. The . forcible contrast presented in them arouses in the soul a full appreciation of the awful ness of the unending age. Time is short— how fearfully short th? little space allotted to each soul for pt«- nation for eternity ! Sinner, you stand u t > >n the threshold just long enough to catch your breath, and de cide whether you will fail to the pit below |or lean upon the sure “corner stone” and ! ascend to the beautiful “ mansions” above. ' Decide quickly, er the influence which 'steadily impels you will send you groaning to the abode of woe. Christian, yoii are the sentinel of God. Sleep not, lest you awake to find yourself deprived of your “ armor” and just in time to hear the wail ing of those who preceded you to the dark abode, before you mingle yours with theirs. Sleep not, lest while you slumber main unwarned souls perish among the pit-tails of the way, which you are set to watch and point out. Be awake—“ be up and doing,” tor’the period speeds away, never to return, in which you are to gather the jewels for your crown. The time is short, in view of our duties; but Oh! how long before we shall see the Lord of glory in His bright dwelling! Travellers to eternity, let the fruits ot righteousness abound to enliven vounj >uruey and prepare you to step into H s presence in full Christian growth and vigor.—[J?envious Htrani. ATLANTA, GA., SATURDAY, AUGUST 22, 1863. HIS BANNER OVER US IS LOVE. THE OLD JUMP'S DREeLff. , ’ The old man stood leaning upon his faith ful staff, and watching the sunbeams as they darted athwart the ancient door. Memo ry and imagination were busily interwreath ing their scenes in his mind. That was the selfsame door where fair children had gath ered, and whence they had been scattered, through which the orange-wreathed maiden passed to her bridal, apd afterward" had been carried to her burial. Near that stone he himself, when a boy, had slept on the grass; and now an old man with one foot .in the grave, he was wont to draw Ins ea sy-chair to dream of youth-hopes’ and man hood forever gone. It seems sad to outlive one’s early loves and be alone. Yet that old man felt glad that his loved ones were in the realm of etefnal youth and beauty, and even rejoiced that he had been left to watch alone the dy ing of the summer hours, and encounter the dreary chill of life’s autumn. Memory was now busy raising the cur tain which veiled the silent past. The friends of his youth were gathered around him.— Forgotten by this noisy young century, as are all silent ones, he was not now alone. A goodly company seemed to have gath ered around him, attired in quaint old dress es, but with warm young hearts. The time was when they had been his lining idols, and the grasp of their hands thrilled with warmth, love, life. The silence of their voices had been wept for years. They had gone to the glad realms of eternal summer, leaving him to li\ t-<<n alone in the winter time of years, and now they were spirit presences only that were thronging about his chair. In the full flush of beauty, they had gone to the grave, .while he toiled on thitherward in the decrepitude and slow de cline of age. Vivid were the pictures which imagina tion aiding early recollections now impress ed on the old man’s mind. First was a win ter scene, with bleakness and desolation over all the landscape ; then, like the chang ingfantasia of an apium eater, was represent ed a mountain torrent, with its foam and spray leaping up in the silver moonlight; and anon, came auturn scenes, gorgeous in their beautiful decay, and spring views, re dolent of violets and roses. Statues in sha ded niches now seem to greet his gaze, and chill as they are, his heart warms towards them ; for “ the repose of perfection, not of weariness, looks from their eyes and rests upon their lips.” Verily, the spirits which give exis tence to phantom forms were busy with that old man. Around him they displayed bril liant landscapes, and placed beautiful fig ures in the alcoves. He passed them by sorrowfully, but before one his heart bow ed full low and sadly. It was a valley of Arcadian beauty, seen through a vista of trees and vines; beyond it purple hills, with the gray sky above, and the mist of a dreamy June morning above all. A stream flowed along, over hung with long moss depending from the bark of magnolia trees, and mirroring flow ers, leaves and sunlight in its waters. “1 see her standing there,” murmured the old man to himself. “I db not decry ,the color of her hair, or the shade of her •yes, but 1 know that her hand is soft, her touch gentle, and her voice sweet. To me •he is radiantly beautiful.” And now a de licious warmth permeated his frame, and he wondered if he were not already in par \ adise and young again. “ I see a youth close by,” added he, his great, brown eyes fixed upon hers. All the ’ love which two young pure hearts can give, ' is the dower of the two. They are discours ing in the eloquence of silence, a silence which that bird in the tree above now breaks with a strain of melody. The maid • en speaks. f “ Willie,” say s she, “so goes my sou! to > thine, in one glad gush of sweetness and , joy ! What this fair landscape, with the . bracing air and healthful surlight, is to that I . bird, thou art co me ; yea, and more : yet! | the dark presentiment which we both feel ! can only be the shadow which our souls i ; bring upon themselves by their sadness.— . Be brave. When I return from the shores o*’ fair Italy, you will forget these forebo ding, as I tell you of the beauty and bright ness of that land of song.” i “ I will be brave,” the youth replies. “ If, ■ ; man can bear an eternity in his heart, you ' will be eterna ly mine. Go, beloved one. • Mary, my life, my all. God bless you!, | and when you die, may I die too ! He clasps her to his heart, and their lips; meet in one last, fond thrilling kiss. Ihe scene is changed ; and they both are gone.. The mists are settled deeper ard deeper up- Jon the hills; the purple grows darker and i darker till it enshrouds ail. now an ti other view is added in the ptnoraina. Is’ , i this reality, or the mythical second I ■ | A voung man is alone upon he sea shore. ■ f The lurid lightning glares, rewaling black i; waves piled mountain high, aid huge r<>cksj ; against which the billows are wildly dash-, " ing. Thev wail and sigh and roar; hush 11 themselves, then shriek again and lash the ■ shore as if tormented. But over all this I I war of elements sounds clearly and fear- i fully a cry of terrible human agony. Hu- man beings are there, struggling to’ keep life, that poor, troublesome possession. A noble vessel which had proudly rode the ocean for many a voyage, has perished in the tempest. Day is now just dawning, arid scores of people are there Upon the strand, viewing the wreck, and talking in Ipw tones over the dead bodies which have been washed ashore. At a little .distance apart sits the watch er of the midnight, clasping to his bosom the corpse of a beautiful girl. Her long hair is dripping with the brine, and one hand is clasping a mass of tangled sea-weed which-' has wound itself around her arm. Her white dress is clinging closely to her faultless form, her lips are half parted, and a sweet sntile seems to illumine the face now up turned to his. The picture is worthy of an artist. Ah! that it were only a picture!— NdW they are taking the dead girl from his arms ; the stony fixedness of his gaze chang es, and he cries despairingly, “Lost! lost!” “ Now I know the picture is from life. “ If I return to that Arcadian vale, where the two last 'met and parted, a shadow" envelopes all. I can only see white-robed , maidens fling roses and buds with broken stems into an open grave. There is that fair form robed in lineh mantle, her two hands bound together stiff and cold in a coffin. A ring is upon one finger—a single diamond that I placed there years ago.” Yes, the old the young man’s grief—his great life-sorrow, which came in the spring-tide of his days, and made winter of all after-time ! God did not answer his prayer that he should die when she did; and so he had lived on, and now had come again to his old home to be buried by her side. Life is often filled with just such great, soul-crushing sorrows all the way ; and we feel the truth of the saying, that the jour ney of life is variously performed. There are some who come forth girdtd and shod" and mantled, to walk on velvet lawns and smooth terraces, where every gale is arrest ed, and every beam is tempered ; "while oth ers must walk as upon an Alpine path, against driving misery aud through stormy sorrows,*over sharp sfflictions—walk uith bare feet and naked breasts, jaded, man gled and chilled. A BETTER CHOICE. A Quaker, residing at Paris, was waiteef on by four workmen, in order to make their compliments, and ask for their usual New Year’s gifts. • “ Well, my friends,”.said the Quaker, I “ there are your gifts ; choose fifteen francs; or the Bible.” “ I don’t know how to read,” said the first; > “ so I will take the fifteen francs.” “ I can read,” said a second, “ but I have pressing wants.” lie took the fifteen francs. The third ajsq made th? same choice.— He now r came to a fourth, a lad about thirteen or fourteen years old. The Qua ker looked at him "with an air of goodness. “ Will you take these three pieces, which you may attain at any time by your labor and industry ?” “As you say the book is good, I will take it and read it to my mother,” replied the boy. He took the Bible, opened it, and found between the leaves a piece of gold of forty francs. The others hung down their heads, and the Quaker told them he was sorry they had not made a better choice. He Drink* How ominous that sentence falls! How we . pause in conversation and calculate,; “It’s a pity!” How’ his mother hopes he will not when he grows older ; how his sis ters persuade themselves that it is only a few* wild oats that he is sowing ! And yet' the old men shake their heads and feel ' gloomy while they think of it. Young man, (just commencing life,’bouyant with hopes, don’t drink! You are freighted w’ith a | precious cargo. The hopes of your parents,: of your sisters, of .your wife, of your chib dram are laid down upon you. In you the! aged live over their days ; through you on-' ' ly can that weary one you love obtain a ! position in society; and from the level in , which you place them must your children! go into the great struggle of life. Once upon a time the Methodist congre gation of the little village ofD —,'in ; i North Alabama, were holding “ quarterly ‘ meeting,” at which was present, a bluff, hearty, outspoken preacher named Collard. ' Duringthe “love feast” a rich farmer, noted ' for his penuriousnoss, was called on to “give 1 i his experience.” He did s », thanking Prov- ! idence that he lived in a land of religious : and civil freedom, a land of free speech, ■ free schools, free churches, and free salva tion ; winding up with, “J have belonged to ' the Church seven years, and thank God it ' has never cost me but a quarter of a doi ’ ■ lar!” “ And may th® Lnrdiiave mercy on yourt poor stingy soul!” immediately replied •| Collard. TERMS — Four Dollars a-year. > THE SOLDIERS* COLUMN. J The Panoply. 1 Soldiers of Christ arise! ' And put your armor on, p Strong in the strength which God supplies, 1 Through his eternal Son. r Strong in the Lord of hosts, ’ . And in His mighty power, Who in the strength of Jesus trusts 1 Is more than a conquerer. Stand, then, in His great might, With all His strength endued ; 1 , But.take to arm you for the fight, • The panoply of God; i That having all things done, And all your conflicts past, Ye may o’ercome through Christ alone, And stand entire at last. {For The Baptist Banner.} . Letter from the Rapidan. Camp 9th Reg’t. Ga. Vol,s. ) near Rapidan Station, Va., > August 4, 1863. ) Messrs. Editors: For more than a year past, there has been in our regiment, more or less of interest in religious matters, which interest has, at times, ripened into, .glorious revivals of the religion “of the Master. Many have been converted through the instrumentality of his children, who have thus been rewarded for their exertions in behalf of the glory of Ged. We have kept up frequent prayer meetings, and have also organized the Christians of the brigade into an association similar to a church, save t hat it has no sectarian tests of membership. This association has, thiough the goodness of God, flourished, nnd been the means, as lefirmlyl e firmly believe, of greatly advancing the cause of Christ—confirming and building up Christians ; recalling backsliders to their allegiance, and converting sinners unto God. But, as the association has already been mentioned in the religious papers, it is not my purpose at this time to write of it as a body, but to give you a short account of those of its members from our regiment who fell in the battle of Gettysburg. Os forty of our regiment who have joined the “ association” by experience, six w’ere killed at the above mentioned battle, and two who • were members church previous to the war, were also called upon to meet .Hirn who, before them, had conquered death and deprived it of its sting. The names of of our brethren who have departed are as follows": Lieutenant E. W. Bowen, com pany I; John Edward and William H. Edwards, company K, and J. M. Croy, company E were killed on the field; J. H. Hoghes, company I; J. McCullars, compa ny F; James M. Mann, company D, aud jThamas Lyday, company B, were brought | off the field, but died in a very, short time ! thereafter. "Brother J. McCullars, the only ! brother who spoke as to his religious state, left evidence that he was resigned to the will of God, and relied upon the strong arm of Jesus to bear him safely throngh the dark valley of the shadow of death. These young men, though new converts, were, for the most part, active in thecause of Christ, and in public lead in prayer, showing that they were not ashamed of Jesus, but had fully determined to serve Him in spite of the crosses to be borne or the thorns which might- obstruct the narrow path. Thomas E. McDowell, of company D, although he had not connected himself with the association had, during the revivals at Fredericksburg, experienced a change of heart, as I believe, though he desired a brighter experience before he united him self with the people of God. His walk subsequent to the timfc above referred to, convinces me that the Spirit had, in deed, been at work in his heart, and that he was a new man: and I think my hope is well grounded, that though at Gettysburg he paid, the last debt of nature and lay upon the field cold in death ; yet that the impor tant part —the immortal—now lives to en joy the unspeakable joys of the upper ! Kingdom. A great many of the brethren were woun ded in this great struggle. I rejoice that they have the comfort of the religion of Christ to cheer them on their beds of pain; and how I wi h that all Confederate sol diers—yes, all men—had this blessed com fort in their sufferings, both bodily and spiritually. With a prayer that God may comfort the friends and relatives of the deceased, I subscribe myself Your obedient servant, J. C. BURNHAM, Chaplain 9th Georgia regiment. How io Meet Death.—“l have not time to add more,” ssys Cowper, the poet, in a letter, “except just to add, that if 1 am ever enabled to look forward to death with comfort, which, 1 thank God, is sometimes the case with me, I do not take my view of it from the top of my own works and de servings, though God is witness that the labor of my life is to keep a conscience vaid of offence towards him. Death js al ways formidable to me but when I see him disarmed of his sting, by having sheathed it in the body of Jesus Christ.” Relfglout and Family Paper. Tb« BAPTIST BANNER is publubed every Saturday morning, in Atlanta. Ga., by Datto? i Exta de Co- Four dollars per year NUMBER 40.