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2 Contributions. THE LATE BEV. ALLEN” TURNER. Tke impression produced on the mind by persons or events depend, it is commonly supposed, a good deal on the state of mind attho time. At the time I first saw Rev. Allen Turner, more than thirty years ago, I cannot say my mind was in the best state to appreciate such a man. Though not de void of serious religious impressions (for thus I had never been in all my recollection) I was quite unprepared for such demonstra-* tion of the spiritual life, as I then, for the first time, witnessed at a Methodist camp meeting. I had just returned from a pleas ure trip to the mountains with a gay party, when one, whose guest I was at the time, proposed, as if to vary the excitement, that wo should attend a neighboring camp meeting; on arriving there, I was struck with the ru ral picturesqueness of the scene, with the social good humor, and genial kindness, and hospitality which prevailed. Then, as night approached, when the brilliant camp fires were lighted, how glowed the camp ground, as “ with living sapphires,’’ seeming to rival the begemmed vault above, and the vesper hymning from the groups around each tent door, appearing to challenge even the music of the spheres. But the night drew on, and with trumpet tone, we were called to wor ship, not under the roof of a temple made with hands, but beneath the glowing, gorgeous canopy of God’s temple of the universe. For the first time at a camp meeting, the circumstances by which I was surrounded were indeed novel and exciting. I did in deed realize there was worship not confined to buildings of wood or stone; a priesthood with no professional phylacteries or sacer dotal appendages to distinguish it. More than ever did 1 think this, when, for the first time I witnessed the power of the gospe by the ministry of Allen Turner. He was at that time in, delicate health, thin, pale and feeble; he had been on a la borious tour of camp meetings for months; but worn out and exhausted, apparently as he was, it was wonderful, his supernatural energy and strength. All night long was his voice heard proclaiming his Lord’s mes sage to dying sinners; all night long ex horting them to be saved through his grace; no time for sleep, or slumber, or inglorious ease had he. He was doing a great work for his Lord and “could not come down from t.” My solemnity perhaps, attracted his at tention, for after one of the regular services, personally, he addressed himself to me, and never, never did I forget his words. Though not instrumental in deciding me tp the choice I subsequently made, of castinginmy lot with his people, they were, in moving me near than I had ever been to the Cross of Christ. The next time I saw Mr. Turner was at the Conference in Columbia,S. C. in 1820, when I became a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church. Soon after leaving the Conference, he wrote me a letter, from which I extract the following as characteristic of the man, and as calculated to do good, and thus continue his ministry upon earth : “ When I call to mind the time and cir •cumstances of our first interview, I can but adore the riches of redeeming mercy to poor thoughtless sinners. Ah! little did you think,my child,when you came to camp meet ing, that you would be then given to see your self a wretched, undone sinner, through the influence of such ministrations, but how good was God to pursue you with the cry of a Kedeemer’s blood even when you tried to run away from him ! Let a rehearsal of the subject awake your heart anew, and more lively and fervent strains of humility, thanksgiving and praise awake. Go to the throne of grace, and anew remember the Lord that bought you, and the Holy one of Israel that hath redeemed you. You have just begun the Christian warfare, and have need of much patience, meekness, hum bleness of mind, forbearing and forgiving. Perhaps Satan has not yet told you that you are a hypocrite—a vile deceiver, and deceived. But if he has not, be sure that in all likelihood, he will; and he will help to spiritual pride, evil surmises, hard thoughtsand many other unexpected things. The only way is to lie at the feet of Jesus, and then you are safe.” llow much good this faithful servant of God accomplished, God himself only knows; and this good he wrought not by superior ability in himself, but by his power with God. Armed with this, he was a flaming minister of the new testament. He had seals innumerable to his apostleship, and he has now in heaven countless stars in his crown of rejoicing. He was one of “ the early Methodist preachers.’’ I thank God for the privilege of having known some of these heroic men. The gospel that he preached made the way to heaven bo “ primrose path/’ but the strait and narrow way of the Bible, that few are disposed But he did not bind burdens on other’s shoulders, which he was not able or willing to bear himself; no cross was too heavy for him, no path of duty too rugged ; hia song was : “Give joy or grief, gi Tfi et3e or Take health or friends away But let me find them all again ’ In that eternal day.” One more consecrated, more set apart I never knew ; prayer was all his business all his pleasure praise. May he have left his patience, faith, and zeal as a heritage for the church, for which he was in labors most abundant! May his mfntle of self abnegation, of entire devotedness to Christ and his cause, of unfailing zeal in the work ol the Lord, of unfaltering faith in the word of God, of unwavering hope in his promises fall upon his successors in the ministry, to the success of their great work, and to the joy and rejoicing of their souls forever! M. M. Columbia, S. C., Dec. 1866. * Extemporaneous Preaching. To a preaeher of the gospel, the faculty of ready, easy, extemporaneous utterance, is one of the highest importance. Extempo raneous speech stands opposed to reading, whether the attention is strictly or only partially confined to the manuscript. It is equally opposed to the recitatioa of a memo rized address, where no manuscript makes its appearance. Extemporaneous speaking js the delivery of one’s thoughts at the mo ment of utterance, without any foregoing arrangement of the phrases. The form of the address is improvised, i. e , is suggested at the time and under the circumstances of the delivery. But while this is so, it is equally evident that the substance and mat ter of the discourse must have been in the mind previously. An empty mind can give forth nothing. A mind imperfectly inform ed on any subject can never impart full instruction on that subject, no matter what fluency may mark the utterance of the words which pretend to clothe the ideas. Extemporaneous speaking, then, presup poses several things. It presupposes, first, a fund of ideas accumulated as the result of educational culture in general, and of read ing, reflection, and study, directed particu larly to the class of subjects on which one is to speak extemporaneously. The mind’s mastery of any field of knowledge is not complete, when merely a mass of facts has been accumulated. These must be grouped, generalized, classified—must be subjected to their controlling law, and by this law be bound into an orderly system. The discov ery and application of the determining prin ciple to the elements, is science. Then the mind comprehends the subject, melts down in its own crucible what has been read, heard, observed ; and is ready to re-issue the mental coinage, fresh and sharply marked from its own mint. Practice in thinking is another thing pre supposed. To be able to command the at tention, and to treat the subject with force of thought, in an orderly method, without confusion, even where we are masters of the general subject by foregoing reflection, re quires that the intellect should have been subjected to discipline and that practice should have made it familiar with its tools. The itinerant system of the Methodist Church is admirably fitted to give this sort of drill. Frequent preaching in the first years of his ministry to different congrega tions on his circuits, habituates the young minister to the command of his thoughts, to self-possession, and the fearless advanco from one position of his subject to another. Men of ordinary capacity, and even inferior culture, by the mere dint of constant off hand speaking, have acquired a fluency, a readiness, an intellectual hardihood, so to speak, which enable them to succeed in ex temporaneous preaching, where others, vast ly their superiors in native endowment and cultivation, but without the practice, have failed. Another thing is presupposed : a certain mastery of language. A classical education greatly helps an extemporaneous speaker. Certain master-pieces of composition, in lan guages ancient and dead, are put into the student’s hands. He is required to find out etymological principles, laws of syntactical arrangement, proprieties of expression. In transfening the original into his own lan guage, he becomes acquainted with the strength, niceties, shades of meaning, which make human speech one of the noblest of the arts. As the musician becomes master of the nicest distinctions in sounds, and the artisan knows the fullest capabilities of his tools and fingers, so he who has careful ly and long studied the structure, combina tions, and harmonies of language, and has often caught the inspiration of the grand classical models of style, must possess a higher aptitude for clothing his ideas in the most appropriate diction. In any event, he who is to make an effective extemporane ous speaker, must seek to acquire a fund of language. A fourth thing presupposed is the forma tion of a plan of the contemplated discourse —in writing, or in the thoughts. An em ergency may arise in which the scheme of thought must be drawn up on the spur of the moment. The mind must boldly and rapidly digest some general order of treat ment —some salient points on which the body of the discourse may b« organized.— For the most part, however, there is time enough given for the speaker or preacher to digest in writing his plan. The whole force of his subject may be thrown into one lead ing proposition. Then this proposition may take organic shape in several distinct but related members. Thus he has an analysis of his subject—a path of progress through it. “Make your plan/’ says a master of elo quence, “at the first heat, and follow your inspiration to the end; after which let things alone for a few days, or at least for several hours. Then re-read attentively what you have written, and give anew form to your plan ; that is, re-write it from one end to the other, leaving only what is essen tial. Eliminate inexorably whatever is ac cessory or superfluous, and trace, engrave with care, the leading characteristics which determine the configuration of the discourse, and contain within their demarkations the parts which are to compose it. Only take pains to have the principal features well marked, vividly brought out, and strongly connected together, in order that the dis course may be clear, and the links firmly welded.” This plan must be mastered, and held distinct before the mind’s eye The line trees of the surveyed plot must stand blazed and. conspicuous in the intellectual vision. A single glance gives the preacher posse*- SOUTHERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE. sion of the whole subject. His preparation to preach, then, all but the earnest, pleading prayer for the Spirit’s enlightening grace and quickening aid, is complete, and the mind is surrendered to the full inspiration of the subject. The intellectual preparation has grasped firmly the outline, merely.— The filling up, the clothing of the skeletou with flesh, rounding of the swelling muscley the polished skin; above all, the breath of life—these are the work of the plastie energies of thought and emotion du ring delivery. If the heart ia cold ; if no quickening energies of the Spirit of grace move upon the spiritual susceptibility; if no gush and throb of emotion is realized, this must affect the mind’s working. Woe to the man who ascends the pulpit and feels not the burden of the Lord upon him—has no deep sense of his responsibility —knows no vital warmth from the cross—no tender pity for the souls of the wandering and lost! Now this tenderness, and warmth, and spiritual excitement, properly oalled unction, is the highest element of oratorical power in the pulpit. Extemporaneous address makes room for it—excites it. But let us look at some of the advantages to be reckoned as on the side of extempo raneous preaching. To begin : there is the consideration just glanced at, but which from its vitafl importance is worthy of ma ture reflection—that, namely, which throws the preacher upon the resources of divine help. It is not in human nature to feel practically, deeply, and thoroughly, the same sort of need for the aid of the Holy Spirit in preaching, when the manuscript sermon is before one, which the preacher must and does feel without one. Now, if all the efficiency and saving results of preach ing, at last are from God, who giveth the increase,though Paul plant and Apollos water; and if the preacher’s faith, earnestness, and power, in the pulpit, are in proportion to the measure of gracious influence which God may vouchsafe to his pleading prayer ; then it follows that extemporaneous preaching, stirring up by its very exigencies the ele ments of concern, prayer, faith, dependence on God, must have a most solemn connec tion with the great moral and spiritual effects which all gospel-preaching aims at. But there is a second class of consider ations which show the advantages of extem poraneous utterance. Independently of di vine aid just referred to, the throwing of a man fully upon his own resources, has, in itself, a quickening, inspiring influence. — The mind rallies all its energies. Its full capacity of power is put in requisition ; and its movement will likely be with correspond ing power The susceptibility is quickened The feeling is more intense. It gushes from the heart with a more generous throb, when excited by and originating in the precise occasion which calls it forth. The expres sion is more flexible and telling when it arises spontaneously, and adapts itself to the varying moods of an audience. Now it moves along with colloquial ease; then it strikes into a higher level, and anon it is at the full thunder of impassioned eloquence. To the mere sermon-reader, a great deal of this flexibility is debarred. The reciter from memory has ever before him the appre hension that he may forget a word, or drop a sentence, or break down utterly. Neither of them can well afford to follow out a vein of inspiring thought, which might be struck perchance. Every experienced extempo raneous speaker can remember how often some of the best thoughts and brilliant il lustrations have occurred to him in the heat of excited preaching, and whilst facing a situation which called out all his powers. In addition, we must by no means over look the enhanced effect produced on every kind of audience by a well-done extempo raneous effort. There is a wonderful ad vantage in being able to look the audience ia the sac advantage to the preach er, an advantage to the listeners.— His eye is radiant with soul, his face beams with expression. It seems to them that he is preaching from the center of his spirit; and nothing short of that is eloquence What do they care about the extreme niceties of a style polished by labor of file and lamp ! For written or printed matter these niceties are very proper. But extem poraneous address, confined to the proprie ties of finished composition for the eye, would be worse than thrown away. It has canons of propriety of its own construction ; an abandon , a fullness, a breadth of ampli* fication, and even a pomp of language, which would be entirely unbecoming in the pages of the correct and elegant essayist, but which thunder at the gates of the popular heart, and carry by storm the convictions of the understanding, and bring the trembling sinner to the feet of Jesus. What would be blemishes in one kind of style, are excellen cies of high order in the other. And just here is the difference between eloquence and rhetoric. The latter is born of art, and. shows art in its best attempts to conceal it. The former is the child of genu ine, earnest, simple emotion. I may admire and praise the one—l feel the other. Rhetoric glitters; eloquence smites with the lightning, or warms with the genial sun beam. The rhetorician preaches you a beautiful discourse. LTpon the sermon of the eloquent preacher rests a baptism of fire. Soul alone can speak to soul. Vital energy goes not with dead words ; and sueh are all words when the cells of the heart are locked up, and the depths of emotion are unstirred. “Si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi.” Extemporaneous address has been the characteristic excellence of the Methodist pulpit from the first. To this element it owes much of its impressiveness and efficien cy, and on grounds that have just been no ticed. Let not this glory fade in the hands of the rising ministry, who have enjoyed ad vantages of culture superior to those at the command of theirfathers. The accomplish ed Dr. Rice, of the Presbyterian Church, Professor of Christian Theology in Prince Edward Seminary, Va., laid it down as one of the leading objects of that school of the prophets, (l to administer instruction such as to Jorm powerful extemporaneous preachers, and not xermon-writers." > Powerful extem poraneous preaohing is precisely what the Methodist Church cannot afford to give up. W. Jfamilg .^tabing. From the Congregationalist. “NOT LOST BUT GONE BEFORE.” A PARABLE FROM MRS. GATTY. The sun shone softly down upon the Hillside Cemetery where Mr. Bell and his children were standing amid the fresh clov er, strcwiog a new-made grave with roses and violets from their garden. It was only a little mound and the weeping mother sat at its head, mourning for her youngest born. “ Papa,’’ said Arthur, “ where is heaven, that my little brother has gone to ? It is not up in the sky, for 1 ean’t see anything there.” The little boy looked sorrowfully up into the far-off blue, and then turned to his father for a reply. “ Heaven is not in sight, Arthur,” an swered his father. “We cannot tell where it is. It might be very near without our being able to see it without our eyes.’’ “ But, papa,’’ said Helen, “ if heaven is near, isn’t it strange that Willie cannot just come back one minute to tell us he is hap- PJ, . . “Yes, dear,’’ said Mr. Bell, “it is all strange to us. We can only trust our Father in heaven about it, and wait till we -go to Him If we love Him here, we shall be where He is hereafter, and with dear little Willie too, I think.’’ They lingered awhile beside the precious grave, and then turned homeward through the pleasant cemetery grounds. As they passed a little pond fringed with flowering shrubs, Mr. Bell said to his wife, “ Anna, let us sit down beside this pond while I tell the children that parable of Mrs. Gatty’s which sister Alice read to us—‘Not lost but gone before.’ ’’ “Oh yes,” said their mother, “ I should like to have you.’’ Mr. Bell placed his wife upon a rustic seat and sat down by her side, with Arthur on his knee and Helen at his feet. “ This parable,” said he, “ tries to teach us how near heaven may be to earth, and how the holy people may remember us and know where we are, and yet not be able to return, or speak to us. I will tell you all I can remember of it. “ Once there was a beautiful pond in the centre of a wood. Trees and flowers were growing about it, birds sang, and insects hummed above it. Under the water, too, there was a little world of beings. Fishes and little creatures that live in water, filled it full of busy life. Among them was the grub of a Dragon Fly with a large family of brothers and sisters.” “What is a Dragon Flyinterrupted Arthur. “ It’s just a Darning Needle,” said Hel en. “ Yes, you children call it a Darning Needle,” said their father, “ that beautiful swift creature with a long glittering blue and-green body and brilliant gauzy wings. Now before he became a Dragon Fly, dart ing through the air and flashing back the aunshine, he was a dark, scaly grub and lived down in the forest pond He and his family were born there and knew no other world. They spent their time in roving in and out among the plants at the bottom of the water, in search of food. But one day this grub began to ta k among his mates about the Frog. ‘Every little while,’ said he, ‘the Frog goes to the side of the water and disappears. What becomes* of him when he leaves this world ? what can there be beyond ?’ ” “You idle fellow,” replied another grub, “attend to. the world you are iu and leave the ‘ beyond’ to those that are there !” So said all his relations, and the curious grub tried to forget his questionings. But he could not do it, so one day when he heard a heavy splash in*the water and saw a great yell:w Frog swim down to the bottom, he screwed up his courage to ask the Frog him self. “ ‘Honored Frog/ said he, approaching that dignified personage as meekly as pos sible, ‘ permit me to inquire what there is beyond the world ?’ “ ‘What world do you mean ?’ said the Frog, rolling his goggle eyes. “ ‘This world, of course, our world,’ an swered the grub. “ ‘ This pond you mean/ remarked the frog with a sneer. “‘I mean the place we live in, I call it the world/ cried the grub with spirit. “‘ Do you indeed !’ rejoined the Frog. ‘Then what is the place you don’t live in ; the ‘ beyond’ the world, eh V “ ‘That is just what I want you to tell me/ replied the grub briskly. “ ‘ Well then/ said Froggy, ‘it is dry land.’ “ ‘Can one swim about there?’said the grub. “ ‘ Dry land is not water, little fellow/ chuckled the Frojr.’ ‘That is just what it is not.’ “ ‘ But tell me what it is/ persisted the grub. “‘Well then, you troublesome creature/ cried the Frog, ‘ dry land is something like the bottom of the pond, only it is not wet, because there is no water.’ “‘Really, said the grub, ‘what is there then ?’ “ ‘They call it air/ replied the Frog. ‘lt is the nearest approach to nothing.’ ‘‘Finding that he could not make the grub understand, the good natured Frog offered to take him on his back up to the land, where the grub might see for himself. The grub was delighted. He dropped him self down upon the Frog’s back and clung closely to him while he swam up to the rushes at the water’s edge. But the mo ment he emerged into the air, the grub fell reeling back into the water, panting and struggling for life. ‘Horrible !’ cried he, as soon as he hud rallied a little; ‘there is nothing but death beyond this world. The Frog deceived me. He cannot go there at any rate.’ “ Then the grub told his story to his friends, and they talked a great deal about the mystery, but could arrive at no explana tion. “ That evening the yellow Frog appeared again at the bottom of the pond. “ ‘ You here !’ cried the startled grub. ‘ You never left this world at all, I suppose !’ “ ‘Clumsy creature/ replied the Frog, ‘why did you not cling to my back ?’ When I landed on the grass you were gone.’ “The grub related his death-like struggle, and added, ‘Since there is nothing" but (heath beyond this world,, all your stories about going there must be false.’ “ ‘I forgive your offensive remarks/ said the Frog, gravely, ‘ because I have learned to-day the reason of your tiresome curiosity. As I was hopping about on the grass at the edge of the pond, I saw one of your race slowly climbing up the stalk of a reed. Sud denly there appeared a rent in his scaly coat, and after many struggles there came out of it one of those radiant Dragon Flies that float in the air I told you of. He lifted his wings out of the carcase he was leaving, and when they had dried in the sunshine, he flew glittering away I conclude that you grubs will do the same thing by and-by. “The grub listened with astonishment and distrust, and swam off' to tell his friends. They decided that it was impossible non sense, and the grub said he would think no more about it. He hurried restlessly about in the water, hunting for prey, and trying to forget. But not long after he began to be sick, and a feeling he could not resist impelled him to go upward. He called to Lis relations and said : “‘I must leave you, I know not why. If the Frog’s story of another world is true, I solemnly promise to return and tell you.’ “ His friends accompanied him to the water’s edge, where he vanished from their sight, for their eyes were fitted to see only in water. All day they watched and waited for his return, but he came no more. “ One of his brothers soon felt the same irresistible impulse upward, and he also promised the sorrowing family that, if he shouid indeed be changed into that glorious creature of which they had heard, he would return and tell them. ‘But/ said one, ‘per haps you might not be able to come back.’ ‘ A creature so exalted could certainly do anything/ replied the departing grub. But lie also came not again. ‘IJe has forgotten us/ said one. ‘He is dead/ said another; ‘ there is no other world.’ “ And now a third brother felt the same inward necessity driving him upward. He bade his friends farewell, saying, ‘I dare not promise to return. If possible I will; but do not fear in me an altered or a forgetful heart. If that world exists, we may not understand its nature.’ “His companions lingered near the spot where be disappeared, but there was neither sign nor sound of his return. Only the dreary sense of bereavement reminded them that he had once lived. Some feared the future; some disbelieved; Borne hoped and looked forward still. Ah, if the poor things could ouly have seen into the pure air above their watery world, they would have beheld their departed friends often returning to its borders. But into the world of waters they could never more enter. The least touch upon its surface, as the Dragon Fly skim med over it with the purpose of descending to his friends, brought on a deadly shock,, such as he had felt when as a Water Grub, he had tried to come upward into the air. His new wings instantly bore him back. “And thus, divided yet near, parted yet united by love, he often hovered about the barrier that separated him from his early companions, watching till they, too, should come forth into the better life. Sweet it was to each new comer to find himself not alone in his joyous existence, but welcomed into it by those who had gone before. Sweet also to know that even in their ignorant life below, gleams from the wings of the lost ones they had lamented were shining down into their dark abode. Oh, if they had known, they would neither have feared nor sorrowed so much !” Mr. Bell sat in silence a few moments af ter finishing this parable, and then said : “ Do you see, Helen, how the other world may be out of sight and hearing, though very real and near ?” “ Yes, father, I do/’ replied Helen. “It makes it seem as if Willie might be close beside us.” Things That Last. Let us now look at some ©f those things that “ will never wear out I have often heard a poor blind girl sweet ly sing, “ Kind words will never die.” Ah! we believe that these are among the things that “will never wear out.’’ And we are told in God’s own book to be “kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one an other.” The word of the Lord will never wear out. Though the grass shall wither, and the flowers fall away, the word of the Lord endureth forever. (L Peter i. 24, - <r> - The life of the righteous will never wear out. They will live in the world to come, as long as God shall live; but the deat io \ the wicked will last forever. The joys of the kingdom of heaven will