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THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.
Vol. XXXII.—No 23.
Original f ottrg.
LINES
To Mrs. L. K.C., of Mslledgeville, on the death of her
infant son.
A few weeks since, I stood with thee,
Down by the river's side,
With happy hearts, and spirits fiee,
We watched the ebbiDjj tide ;
And talked about the stream of life,
The mockeries, the pride,
The happiness, the jarring strife
O. those who down it glide.
You little dreamed, as thus we atood,
In meditation there,
That thy sweet babe , so pure and good,
So soon, death’s couch would share.
But so it is, and now thy tears,
In woe and anguish fall,
Upon the little angel’s form
Beneath the sable pall.
Thy stricken spirit ’reft of »
"That made thy peace and joy,
Now drinks the woimwood and the gall,
And mourn«*th for thy boy.
I oorne, to speak ajwoi and of peace,
Unto rny dearest friend :
Your c airn on life Is but a lease,
Which soon will have an end,
And then around the throne of God,
In sweet reunion blest,
Thy babe uprisen from the sod
Bhall nestle on thy breast.
No more of grief shall be thy lot—
Thy cares shall all be o’er ;
All misery shall be forgot
On joy’s eternal shore.
I loved him too, but oh 1 I feel
That God the blow ha« sent ;
Then, Laura , down in ashes kneel ,
And give up even 'Kent.
Without a word of murmuring,
11 thou, this funeral knell—
-1 i r t up thy heart, and say with me,
*•//« dneth all things well**
Warrenton, <Ja , April 28th, 1869. GaaaaoM.
Contributions.
The Chastenings of Love
“Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth and scour
geth every son whom he receiveth.”
Affliction then is an expression of God’s
love. How often have the best men, the
holiest and most devout, been the subjects
of severe affliction. This is not the result
of the mere exercise of an arbitrary pow
er. Nothing is more certain than the ut
terance contained in that trite and oft re
peated sentence, “God is too wise to err
and too good to be unkind ” Afflictions
are necessary to qualify us for a higher
mode of being; to detach us from this
world, and implant in us a desire to depart
and be with Christ.
If afflictions are the measure of the love
of God to me, then must I be dear in his
sight. Within the last few years es
pecially, afflictions have been the portion of
my cup. For two ycais, now, not a day
without it—myself shut up in my Intusc for
four consecutive months —then wife and
daughter, and son ; and, now, after a pro
tracted illness of ten months, my youngest
son, in his 18th year, has passed away, ma
king five grown sons that I have buried.
The last one I had regarded as the prop of
my old age, the staff on which I could lean
when I had beoome disabled by the infir
mities of age. God has knocked all my
props away. Now, I stand liko the solitary
oak, over which storms have passed, soalcd
by lightning and robbed of its branches
by the fury of the blast.
Were it not for my strong and abiding
confidence in the special providence of
God, I would be crushed. Hut oh ! how
hard it is to lie down submissively. It is
all right I know. I am satisfied of that. I
oaunot for a moment question the wisdom
of the divine administration. Hut the heart
still bleeds. My recognition of the wisdom
and goodness of God, does not restore me
my lost ones. Thank God ! for the pros
pect of a reunion above. Not loDg now,
and I can go to them; they cannot come to
me.
My last son, Willie A. Jennings, died
on the 15th inst. Just one year before
we had a Sabbath-sohool celebration in
Lowndesboro, on whioh occasion, he car
ried the banner—the proudest boy in the
line. lie regarded it as the post of honor,
and was a happy youth that d»y.
Willie was always a good boy—never had
contracted a bad habit—sensitive to a fault,
modest, affectionate and devoted to his pa
rents, loving his mother with almost idola
trous devotion. All his plans for tho fu
ture had reference to the comfort of his
old father and mother. Oh ! we feel his
loss severely. But ho was willing to die
When the Lord called him, he quietly and
without a murmur laid down all those
plans and purposes which he had matured,
having reference to what he believed would
be successful exertion, and folding his
arms softly fell asleep in Jesus.
In humble submission to the divine will,
we surrender him knowing that he is bet
ter off with God, than he would have been
with man.
Oh death! how bitter is that blow of thine,
That felled my boy aud laid him in the grave,
But there’s a voice all sovereign and divine,
Proclaiming Christ omnipotent to save.
“I am the life, the resurrection power”
Announced on earth, God’s own incarnate Son,
And thil* f -redNomed the ciouds of wrath shall lower
. Over thy death the conquest won.
Thy tyiant sway then soon shall have an end,
For He that conquered in thine own domain
Shall in good time thy darksome pirson rend
And with his ransomed hosts in heaven reign.
But still, ’tis hard to yield my boy to thee,
Oh Death ! thou hast no heart.—no pity thine,
My tears, my ag ny, thou dost not see,
sier f-je. the pang, ’tis altogether mine.
J. M. Jennings.
Greenville, Ala., Mai/ Ylth, 1809.
Afterwards.
The path was dreary. Toiling beneath
the heavy burdens of life, the cry rose trem
blingly, ’mid prayers and tears : “how long
0! Lord how long ?”
Poverty, even when the weary hands
knew no rest from dawn to eve, assailed
them, and, shivering in tattered garments,
they received humbly the crumbs from
sumptuous tables.
Rude, harsh voices derided them. The
laugh of scorn was often their meed, in re
turn for deeds of worthy praise. The
tongue of slander joined its hate to that of
fiends, and their names became synonyms
for evil, while “the wolves walked in sheep’s
clothing.” Disgrace, infamy, and shame,
engirdled the steps of the destined angels!
Earth’s holiest, tenderest ties were sev
ered, and they yielded to the grave the
beaming eyes, the winning smiles, the
hearts full of fadeless affection. Sorrows,
hidden away from mortal gaze, rankled
within the depths of their souls ; and only
on bended knees, in softly whispered tones,
oould their breaking hearts reveal to the
faithful God, what was, forever concealed
from man.
The stake, the damp prison cell, the in
quisition, were but the surface ; unseen
woes goaded their souls from the cradle to
the grave.
Faith , 'purity, submission, found greater
depths, soared to loftier heights with every
throb of pain that rent their spirits from
earth. Drenched in the agony of affliction,
they became “seven times purified.’’ And
their guardian angels, beholding them thus
Aontkecn Christian Adroatr.
bjwed and broken, smiled ia triumph, for
their piercing eyes looked into the realms
of' futurity. Gifted with supernatural vis
ions, with prophetic minds they unfolded
Time.
From afar their seraph eyes caught the
glimmer of the day as it gave its light to
the Eternal City. They beheld the glitter
ing crowns, the robes of white ; heard the
voices attuned to anew triumphant song,
saw the faces beaming with beauty, such
as fallen souls never behold even in dreams
And this was to be the reward, the rest, after
life’s weary march !
The night is ended. They stand in the
light that breaks upon them in a flood of
glory, Beauty, perfection, envelopes all
within their eternal home. The minds,
so warped in earthly caskets bound forth
into lofty intelligence. The hearts that
quailed beneath the chastening rod, possess
ed now with deep, holy emotions, thrill in
pure delight. No vestige of the long and
fearful conflicts linger even in memory, for
the rich heritage present, shuts out the
past. No taints of the dusty way soil their
shining garments.
Standing there, within the pearly.gates,
strangers, }et welcomed with a burst of song
from angel lips, millions gaze in admiration
upon them. Who are these? is the fond
inquiry, and the answer falls upon the
throng in tones of tender love :
“These are they which came out of great
tribulation, and have washed their robes
and made them white in the blood of the
Lamb.
“Therefore are they before the throne of
GoJ, and serve Him day and night in His
temple : and He that sitteth on the throno
shall dwell among them.
“They shall hunger no more, neither
thirst any more; neither shall the sun light
on them, nor any heat.
“For the Lamb, which is in the midst of
the throne, shall feed them, and shall lead
them unto living fountains of waters, and
God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes.” Angela.
Btillwood, May 20th.
godrine anb
A Worldly Choice, and its Conae
quences.
(from “tiie dawn and the rain.’’)
‘ Aid Lot lifted up his eye«, and beheld all the plain
of Jordan, that it whs weil watered even where
Then Lot choNe him all the plain of Jordau. . . . But
the men of Sodom were wicked, and siunera befoie
the Lord exceedingly.”—Gxn xiii: 10-13.
That Lot was a good man in the ground
of his character there is no reason to doubt.
The course of the narrative shows it, in
whioh, though sorely punished, he is final
ly delivered, and the apostle Peter (2 Peter
ii. 7) expressly terms him “just Lot, vexed
with the filthy conversation of the wicked.’’
Hut good men have their besetting sins.
Lot’s was worldliness, and it oost him dear.
One of the first things we shall attempt
to show is, some of the features of the
choice whioh Lot here made. .
One of these is this, that worldly advan
tage was the chief element in determining
his place in life. “He lifted up his eyes,
and beheld all the plain of Jordan, even as
the garden of the Lord, like the land of
Egjpt.” The volcanic fires, slumbering
beneath, made that vale so fertile that its
riolics have beoome proveibial; and the
Jordan, which has now so short a course to
the Head Sea, then wandered through the
plain, like the rivers of Eden. Lot’s eye
regarded neither the dangers sleeping be
neath, nor tho light of God above, but on
ly the corn and wine and verdant pastures.
It is not the part of religion to teach us to
despise natural beauty, or make us prefer
to cultivate barren soil if we can get bet
ter. Asceticism is no feature of the Bible,
from first to last. But to make outward
advantage the first and main object in
choosing our path in life, is certainly not
the guidance of the Word of God; and
either Lot was without true principle at the
time, or he had for the season forgotten it.
VV’ealth, or the chance of making it, is not
the one thing needful; and that man pur
sues a very unwise and unchristian course
who rushes straight at it, without taking
other things into account. There are many
signs of materialism in our age, and this
among them, that the acquisition of money
is one of the first thiugs which men think
of in ohoosing a profession for themselves
or their children. Our natural capability
of mind is one thing to be considered, for
only as we cultivate it can we be most use
ful to our ftllow-men, and most happy in
ourselves It is not with impunity that a
man can do violence to his own nature, o’
crush th it of his child, with no other mo
tive than hasting to be rich. And still
higher than natural taste is principle. The
question, Can I, with a clear sense of duty,
enter iuto such a line of pursuit? Am I
not venturing into relationships where it
will be hard, if not impossible, for me to
maintain a eonsoience void of offence ?
These points do not seem at all to have
troubled Lot, or they were lightly put aside
in view of his material interests. We do
him no injustioe, for he remained clinging
to Sodom, years afterwards, though he
must have felt the deleterious atmosphere.
He returned to Sodom when he had lost
all, and had recovered it again through
Abraham. That sharp warning was inef
fectual, and he needed to be forced from
the place by God’s destroying angel. What
weighed with him all the while was that
w£iOh determined him at first—the ricL‘
returns of the fertile soil. When, in any
step of life, the readiest thought which oc
cus to a man is not duty, or benevolence,
or mental taste and capability, but bare
worldly advantage, let him look at it well
in other lights. Such a motive, if indulged,
is certain to end by shutting out his view
of all that is high and true in life, and to
lead him into the dark and miry way.
See how Lot’s choice came back to him.
He grasped recklessly at worldly advantage,
aad twice he lost his entire possessions—
the second time, as it would seem, beyond
recovery. In tfc-e instance, the kings
of the East plucdeftd Sodom, and carried
off Lot and all he had. “They took Lot
and his goods," —an emphatic conjunction.
There was much property, and it was much
to him, for his heart was in it. No doubt
it was a sore blow to Lot, and was meant
as a warning to quit the place. But he re
fused to take it, and the stroke came next
time direct from God, and with more crash
ing weight. He, who would not leave
Sodom of his own free will, must be driven
from it by the sword of the avenging angel
He went out poorer than he entered, and
all his wealth perished with the men of
Sodom. So when God punishes open sin
ners, He can judge the sins of His own
people by the way. He can mingle judg
ment with mercy, but also mercy with
judgment, and Lot was made to feel it when
he flei from the fiery rain, stripped of the
labors of years, and did not dare to look
behind on the ruin of his hopes. If we
are God’s people, and have a eherished sin,
He will burn it in spite of us. It is His
promise, “When thou walkest through the
fire thou shalt not be burned,” but this
does not include the evil desire of our
heart. Nay, it must be burned if we are
to be preserved, and for this the fire of
trial is kindled. Lord, spare us not the
fire, but save us from choosing the road
1 that needs it!
The Gift of God.
| “The gift of God is eternal life, through
\ Jesus Christ our Lord ’’
| It is a present gift;—a gift not in re
version but in possession. Not, “I shall
: give,” but “I
now, preparatory to the life of glory here
after. Scripture, in manifold passages, rt
tests the same truth. “He that believeth
on the Son of God katii everlasting life,
and shall not come into condemnation, but
is passed from death unto life ” “Who
hath raised us up together, and made us
sit together in heavenly places in Christ.’’
“Our lives are hid with Christ in God.’’
“Blessed be the God and Father of our
Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us
with all spiritual blessings in heaven.y
places in Christ.’’ Think of this! —this
eternal life—the purchase of sovereign love
—is begun here. The feeble rill com
mences here, which expands at last into
the river that maketh glad the city of God.
The first notes A the new song are hymned
in the Church militant, though the full
chorus be reserved for the Church trium
phant. The bird, though still within its
mortal cage, is gifted with the wings of a
noblc-r being; it only waits the opening of
the door to soar away to the heights of its
bliss. The prisoner has obtained his re
prieve : life—dear life—is once more his ;
—he only needs the unlocking of the pris
on-gate fully to realize the boon, the con
scious possession of which has already
kindled the fading lustre of his eye. The
paralysed cripple has felt fresh energies
creeping into his frame : he only waits un
til the swathing bands be unloosed and he
be l'reed from his couch, that he may enter
the porches of the New-Jerusalem Temple,
walking and leaping and praising God !
Ours indeed is still the life of sense—the
natural life. We move in the scenery of
the lower world. We mingle in its bustle ;
—we pursue its avocations, and grapple
with its grovelling, carking anxieties and
cares. But let us seek that all this lower
life be blended with the higher. Let the
life of time be interwoven and interpene
trated with the life of eternity. “This is
life eternal, to know Thee the only true
God and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast
sent.” The vision and fruition of God —
that is Heaven. By seeking to have the
knowledge of God now, we lisp the alpha
bet of Heaven. Delighting in God now—
walking in His ways, doing His will, spend
ing life in His service, is the spring of a
glorious autumn. He who is enabled in
some feeble moasure to make the averment,
“I live for God,’’ —that man’s higher be
ing—his eternal existence and eternal hap
piness are already begun. His feet are on
earth—but his citizenship is in heaven!
It is a great gift. It is “ Eternal life -’
Eternity! who can fathom that word?
What mortal thought or figure can com
pass its meaning ? An old writer has
thus illustrated it, (we do not give his ex
act language, but. the idea is this :) Sup
pose this globe of ours to be composed of
sand. Suppose at the close of every mil
lion of years, one grain were to drop from
the enormous mass. Yet when the round
orb of sand has exhausted its countless
grains and its coudtless millions of years,
that measureless lapse of ages wiil (com
pared to Eternity) be only as one swing of
the pendulum ! What a heritage this —
these years of deathless bliss ! We are in
a perishable world. The proud monarohs
of the past—where are they? The seep
tres waved over prostrate kingdoms, and
the hands which grasped them, where arc
they ? Cities with the murmur of a swarm
ing population temple and tower rising
to heaven—where are they? relics of
perished magnificence—the owl and the
satyr hooting desolation to the passer by !
Every form and object around us, animate
and inanimate, has the wrinkle on its brow.
The most colossal works of nature are has-,
toning to decay and dissolution. The day
is ooming when the sun itself shall grow
dim with age—when the moon’s silver
lamp shall cea3e to burn—when the stars
in the great temple of night shall quench
their altar fires—when the ocean shall be
swept from its channel—when the forests
shall be charred into blackness—the moun
tains crumble into dust, and the hills be
come as chaff. And afeer these present
material heavens shall have passed away,
there may be new suns and systems—new j
forms and conditions of matter, to take j
their place. There may be new volumes in
the history ot God's universe, whose pages j
are eras, and their chapters millenniums |
But there will be no break, no gap in the j
believer’s limitless life; no canceling of
the irreversible word, “ They shall never
perish.” They shall reign for ever and,
ever. Eternity ! Yes, believers, this is the
measure of your happiness —the duration
of your bliss; —a duratioo, in comparison
with which, all time, all history, all past
cycles and ages, from the song of the morn
ing stars till now, is as but a dream when
one awaketh ! Existence coincident with
that of the Infinite Jehovah ! —the lifetime
of the Almighty, the years of God !
He who thus purchased, with His own
precious blood, this magnificent inheritance,
turns to each one of U3 and says, “He that
believeth in mo though he were dead yet shall
he live; and whosoever liveth and believ
eth in me shall never die. Believest thou
this?” Let each direct that question to
himself, “Believest thou this ?" Seek to
make it matter of personal concernment.
Think of the dreal alternative—Eternal
life or Eternal death ! —a heritage of joy or
a heritage of wrath ! For while it is said,
“He that hath the Son hath life,’’ it is
added, “He that hath not the Son shall
not see life, but the wrath of God abideth
on him.” Abideth! Yes, "abideth!” As
life—eternal life —in the case ot the be
liever, is now begun;—as we have even
in this world, the first installment of that
life which is never to die ; —so, if we have
not the Son of God —if we have no saving
interest in Christ —what is our position—
what our inheritance ? Is it a fearful look
ing for of prospective future judgment and
fiery indignation ? Nay, it is more than
this : it is worse than this. It is a present
retribution. It is the first installment of
everlasting death ; the first gnawings of the
worm—the first kindlings of the everlasting
fire ! “The wrath of God abideth” It is
not the brimstone cloud hanging over us,
but that cloud already burst—the wrath of
God already “revealed from heaven !”
Seek without delay a saving interest in
Him who came that “we might have life,
and that we might have it more abundant
ly.” Flee—oh, flee from the wrath to
come ! And here is a blessed—a glorious
Shelter from that wrath : they are wor<ls
uttered by the lips of the great Life giver
Himself—“ God so loved the world, that
he gave his only-begotten Son, that who
soever beheveth in him should not perish,
but have everlasting life ?’’ — Mac Duff.
Putting off Present Uijty —We have
known persons to contend against the pres
ent performance of an admitted duty be->
cause of the existence of some sin among
them. We have known congregations to
neglect observing the Lord’s Supper for
years on account of troubles among the
members. We have known some to lie out
of the church for years because of some
other individuals in it. This seems to us
all wrong. To neglect present commanded
duty is not a good way to right what is
wrong. Because one man does a wrong,
another is not to negleot doing right. To
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE <!t CO., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
Macon, Grit., Friday, June 4, 1869.
perform present duly faithfully is the ?my
to secure the blessing of God and proßJote
the purity and peace of the church. But
to neglect well-known duties because of
present evils is the sure way to increase
these evils. As for others, let them do as
they will; “but as for me and my hosse,
we will serve the Lord,” is a good resolu
i tion. It were well if it were more gen
j eraily adopted.— United Presbyterian.
“He Giveth his Beloved Sleep.”
What do we give to our beloved?
A liule faith all undLproved,
A little dust to over weep,
Aijd bitter memories to make
The whole earth blasted for our sake :
‘•He giveth his beloved sleep ”
—Elizabeth Barrett Browni
~r.’
So now that ye are His beloved.
O dear ones, from our heart * remove I,
So now that > e are fondly known
To Him, and railed in love His own,
Life’s saver, strife, and pain is o’er.
And wearied hands may toil no more,
And heavy eyes no longer weep.
Since He hath folded them to sleep.
O weary wa» the burning road
Y our tired If te in languor trod ;
• Long days of harrowing toil and care,
And nights of fortifying prayer.
And years* that left their index there,
On youth’s soft cheek and flowing hair,
Were tll4he gifts we bade you keep ;
But He has given you the siet p. f
Folded upon earth’s pillowing breast,
Sleep on, beloved, ana take your reed ;
No memories fraught with grief and pain
Shall there your dreamless couch profane ;
No scorching sun, nor chilling snow
Invade your tabernacles low ;
No sound shall break the stillness deep
That guardeth His beloved’s sleep.
We cou'd but share your sorrows here;
Our fondest words of hope and cheer
Were sad with doubts and faint with sighs,
And tear-* were brimming in onr eyes,
When fain we wou'd hav*. dried your tear*,
A id hu«hed your eighs and stilled your fears :
Now angels bright sweet vigi s keep ~
O’er His beloved’s quiet sleep.
O Jesus! are vre thy beloved?
Bast thou our shrinking faith approved ?
When we upon life’s desert sand
Droop wear? head and trembling hand,--
Wheu faint with toil and noontide glare,
We look to heaven in earnest prayer, t
And plead for rest,O then may we
B est shares in tiiy promise be !
RAmembprin-j in our sorrows deep,
“He giveth his beloved sleep,”
— Advance.
Conformity to the World.
The most fatal danger to whieh the
Church of Christ in our land is exposed is
that of corruption through sinful conformi
ty to the world. Jesus Christ was emiu
ently sympathetic with all around him, an.;
was the divine friend of sinners ; yet ho
was “separate from sinners ’’ llis sepa
rateness consisted in his spotless purity and"
holiness. They are to be a “peculiar peo
ple’’—mingling with the world as leaven in
the lump—working in among the worlds
like preserving “salt”—trying to purify
the world, and keeping themselves “un
spotted from the world.’’ Jesus and the
apostles foresaw the great danger, and there
fore warned tho church faithfully to the
end of time, “be ye not conformed to the
world !’’
During my twenty-two years of
rial labor, 1 have always observed that those
who loved most the sinners’ souls had thi
least to do with the sinners’ sins. The eon
verse is equally true. Those professeo
Christians who have the greatest liking fi*
the sinners’ sins are always the most indi;#
ferent to the salvation of sinners’
The moment that a Christian becomes taint
ed with worldly conformity, he also be
comes utterly useless to his ehuroh, his
pastor and his Saviour. “Ye cannot servr
Go-I and mammon.” 1
I have observed, too, that when church
members become fond of squandering their
money on personal luxuries, they usually
grow stingy in their contributions for
Christ; when they grow fond of the danc
ing party, and the opera, and the wine glass,
they begin to dislike the prayer-meeting
and the mission school. Revivals never
begin over a whist table, a decanter, or a
novel; nor are they promoted by dancing
parties and masquerades.
On this much dscussed question of amuse
ments I have come to the following conclu
sion : We all need certain kinds of recrea
tion ; and God has provided innocent ones
in abundance. Every recreation which
makes the body healthier, the mind clearer,
and the soul better, is innocent. But
whatever stimulates the passions is a sinful
amusement. The condemnation of the
theatre, the card table, the promiscuous
dance, and the loose novel lies in this, viz :
They all stimulate the passions. Chris
tians, therefore, should let them alone. So
should they let wine bottles and
diarers alone. Not only for example's
sake, but for their own sake. Tho “flesh
lusteth against the Spirit”—and we are
commanded to “keep our bodies under.”
Christians should not exclude themselves
from sympathy with other people, like the
monks or Mormons. We must be in the
world, and yet not of the world. Chris
tian separateness is not to be in condition
or contact, but in character. We must
aim to be holy. We must strive to draH
the people of the world up to us, and not
let them drag us down to themselves. If
the Church of Jesus loses its saltness,
wherewith shall this poor world be salted ?
ilow ro Pray.
EXTRACT FROM SPURQEON.
Is it not a fact, that as soon as you enter
the meeting you feel that if you are called
upon to pray, you have to exercise a gift.
And that gift, in the case of many praying
men (to speak hardly, perhaps, but to speak
honestly,) lies in having a good memory to
recollect a great many texts, which always
have been quoted since the days of our'
grandfather’s grandfather, and to be able']
to repeat them in good regular order. The
gift also in some churches, especially in
village churches, lies in having strong
lungs, so as tc be able to hold out without
taking breath for five and twenty mintes
whe j you are brief, and three quarters of
an hour when you aro rather drawn out.
The gift lies also in being able not to ask
for auything in particular, but in passing
through a range of everything, making the
prayer not an arrow with a point, but like
a nondescript machine, that has no point
whatever, and yet is meant to be all point,
which is aimed at everything and conse
quently strikes nothing. Those brethren,
are the most frequently asked to pray who
have these peculiar, and perhaps excellent
gifts, though I certainly must say that I
cannot obey the apostle’s injunction in
coveting very earnestly such gifts as these.
Now, if, instead thereof, some man is asked
to pray who has never prayed before in
public; suppose he rises and says: “0
Lord, I feel myself such a sinner that I
can scarcely speak to Thee. Lord, help me
to pray ! 0, Lord, save my poor soul! 0
that thou wouldst save my old companions !
Lord, be pleased to give us a revival.
Lord, I can say no more; hear mo for
Jesus’ sake—Amen.” Well, then, you
feel somehow as if you had begun to pray
yourself. You feel an interest in that man
partly from fear lest he should stop, and
also because you are suie that what he did
say he meant. Aad if another should get
up after that, and pray in the same spirit,"
you go out and say, “This is real prayer.’*
I would sooner have three minutes prayer
like that than thirty minutes of the other
sort, beoause the one is praying and the
other is preaohing.
Brethren, I would like to burn the
whole stock of old prayers that we have
been usiog these fifty years. That “oil
that goes from vessel to vessel,” —that
“horse that rusheth into the battle,”—that
misquoted and mangled text, “where two
or three are met together, thou wilt be in
the midst of them, and that to bless them,’’
—and all those other quotations which we
have been mangling and dislocating, and
copying from man to man. I would we
came to speak to God just out of our own
hearts. It would be a grand thing for
our prayer meetings ; they would be bet
ter attended; and lam sure they would be
more fruitful, if every man would shake off
that habit of formality, and talk to God as
a child talking to his father; ask him for
what he wants, and then sit down and have
done.
From the American Messenger.
“Give an Account of thy Steward
ship.”
Is it true that the Bible is the word of
God ; that its preoepts are the divinely ap
pointed rule of life to every Christian ? Is
it true that the Bible contains such words
as the following, and that they mean what
they say ?
“Be not conformed to the world.” “Love
not the world, neither the things that are
in the world. If any man love the world,
the love of the Father is not in him.”
“Set your affections on things above, not
on things on the earth.’’ Also that women
adorn themselves with modest apparel . . .
not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls,
or costly array but (as beoometh women
professing godliness) with good works.”
“Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priest
hood, a holy nation, a peculiar people.”
“Denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, wc
should live soberly, righteously, godly in
this present world.”
Are these really the teachings of God’s
Holy Word—that only book divine upon
which Lang all our hopes of immortality—
that only sure compass by which wo may
guide our frail barque through the shoals
and quicksands that this vain world and
our arch enemy himself are ever strewing
in its path, safe into the haven of ever
lasting rest ? Dare we deny that God means
what he says, that his commands are giv
en lor us to obey? If so, what means the
lavish outlay of time and money by which
the ohild of God is attempting to imitate
the children of the wicked one ?
Whj must « Christian man’s influence,
and his means of doing good to the bodies
and souls of those for whom Christ died,
be orippled and dwarfed, in order that his
house and furniture, his equipage and table
may boas costly or as fashionable, as those
of the man whose god is the world, who
minds earthly things. Why must a Chris
tian lady who has solemnly sworn on God’s
altar to come out from the world, oonform
to the extravagant and often immodest
fashions of those who make no such profes
sion ? Why should those who pray, “Lead
us not into temptation,” feed their own
vanity, or excite the envy of their assooi
. ates, by an excessive display in dress,
equipage or entertainments ? Why should
the poor be kept from Sunday-school, and
the house of God, or made unoomfortable
while there, by the general adoption of a
stylo of dress, that they oannot afford ?
Why should a rational, modest, Christian
woman, leave the high and holy duties ot
her own true position to bedizen herself as
a painted doll, or a form upon which to
exhibit millinery or dress goods ?
Why are thousands and tens of thous
ands of dollars, that God has placed in tho
hands of his people, not as owners but as
stewards, and at whose hands he will do
inand a reckoning, expended annually in
theatres, balls, and operas—in costly wines
and luxurious feasting, in useless finery and
fashionable display, while the heathen are
sinking to eternal woe, ignorant alike of
their danger, and the way of salvation
through a Saviour of whom they have
never been told, though eighteen hundred
years have elapsed since Jesus left with his
people a message of pardon and salvation
for them ? Is not this treachery as well as
ingratitude ?
Why do we see those who have solemn
ly dedicated their children to Christ, send
ing them to tho dancing school, tho Romish
convent., and the theatre, in order to school
them to mingle with the oncmies of Jesus,
and shine in the ranks of those who will
not have him to rule over them ? Is this
the training that is left those precious im
mortals for usefulness on earth or happi
ness in heaven ?
Alas ! Alas ! for the blinded folly, the
jgrosa inconsistency of those who, having
“holiness to the Lord’’ on all their
possessions, venture afterwards to prostitute
them to the service of the “Prince of dark
ness,’’ or to use them in perverting the
cause of Him they have solemnly sworn to
love and honor. Does not the reproach of
our Lord, “Why call ye me Lord, Lord,
and do not the things that I say ?” fall
with new and weightier force on those
Christians of the present day, whose relig
ion is so buried beneath the rubbish of
fashion, and folly and love of display, that,
the spirit of vital godliness is almost
orushed out, and the difference between the
Christian and the worldling can scarcely
be discerned ? Should Gabriel’s trump be
sounded now, it is to be feared that the
angels sent to gather up the children of
God, would have to seek them in the
theatre, the ball-room and the danoing
sohool, and withal so bedizened by fashion
and finery, as to leave the heavenly mes
sengei almost in doubt as to their identity,
as the followers of Him who was “meek and
lowly,’’ “holy, harmless, undefiled, separate
.from sinners/’ and “who went about doing
[good.”
Some One Must do It.
In a vast number of minds there is a
feeling of disquietude. Things are not as
they would have them. Just where they
are, the burdens are heavy and the rewards
light, they sigh over them, and wish they
oould change them. I am not free from
this spirit myself, and one day, intimating
as much to a noble friend, since gone to his
rest, he said to me: “John, I must tell
you how I was oured of that feeling.” I
begged of him to do so, and it was in this
way :
He sat in his pulpit on Sunday, when
an eccentric minister, whom ho knBW well,
eame in unexpectedly and took a seat bo
ride him. “I am full of trouble,’’ said he,
“and, if you wish it, I had rather preach
for you than not.” He engaged in prayer,
and pleaded fervently for the pastor and his
people, among other things saying, “Lord
this is not a very enoouraging field, but is
a very important one, and he may as well
be here as any one else; furnish him for
his office.” Odd as the remark appeared,
;he good pastor pcadered over it, and felt
it was not far out of the way; ho
Xoight as well be there as any one else.
And is it nor quite as true of a thousand
fcrther fields, where the laborers are chafing
and thinking somewhere else they would
find it easier, and someone else find it
easier where they are. It may be true
that the parish is a difficult field, the Sun
stlsy-sohool burdensome, the journal exact
ing, the household care wearisome; but
then it may as well bo you as any one else
who shall wrestle with these difficulties
and bear these burdens. For, indeed, who
are you, that you shall demand freedorn
from the strife and toils of religious life.-?
\Yho are you, that you shall be spared fa
tigue and anxiety and care t Who are you r
that, unlike the Son of Man, you Bhall not
minister, but be ministered to —iV. Yl
’ Observer.
“Death-Bed Bepentances.”
BY A PHYSICIAN.
This is an expression often used. Many
live in sin and neglect of religion, who hope
that, when death approaches, they may re
pent and be fitted fer heaven.
While practicing medioine in a Western
state many years ago, I was called to visit
a man who had by mistake swallowed a
1 poisonous quantity of a powerful drug. He
was in great distress, and it was evident
that a fatal result might ensue. The ehemi
cal not being a narootic, the intellect was
perfectly dear. On being informed that
reoovery was doubtful, the patient, although
in most terrible agony, began to express fear
as to his future stet', should death result.
No man ever manifested greater concern, or
confessed with moie apparent sincerity his
guilt and need of a Saviour.
A clergyman was sent for, who talked
and prayed with the sufferer. For a day
and a night there were alternate sinking
and reviviug. At times life seemed almost
extinct, and he revived, then recurred the
deep anxiety about the salvation of his soul.
The minister and others prayed, conversed,
and sung with him. All who came in wero
extremely solicitous about his case. The
apprehensions of its probable fatal effects,
t igethcr with the hopes and fears in regard
to his preparation for death, caused dcop
felt anxiety.
During an interval of comparative relief
from pain, after a long day of indescribable
agoDy, the man began to say that he be
lieved the Lord had forgiven his sins. He
oould rejoice in pardoning love, and every
one seemed to rejoice with him.
Bofore morning another paroxysm of de
pression was anticipated, in which it was
probable he would die. In view of this
contigenoy, the sufferer bade farewell to all
about him, and earnestly expressed his
gratitude to the clergyman for his kind at
tentions and counsel. In a few hours he
began to sink and death seemed inevitable.
All were thankful that, if he must die
under such distressing oircumstancos, he
oould give so dear evidence of having
passed from death unto life. This seemed
to be one iostanoe in which a person might
repent on a death-bed.
Morning dawned, and with its light was
an improvement in the symptoms. Conval
escence commenced, and from day to day
for a week he conversed freely upon relig
ious subjeots.
In a month he was well, but with return
ing health less and less interest was mani
fested in a religious life. He was not dis
posed to make a public profession of relig
ion, and after a few months was as indiffer
ent as ever, and within a year he was open
ly wicked and reckless in his conduot.
If this man had died, all would have
thought he was prepared to leave the world.
But during years of observation I remem
ber no such case which could be considered
undoubted. Tie pain and mental anxiety
attendant upon disease sufficiently severe to
prove fatal, are not favorable to a clear
grasping of the subject of ropentanoe and
faith. Let no one delay a moment so im
portant a duty.
Prayer and Prayer-Meetings.
The Saviour says, “Ask and you shall
receive,” and again : “Every one that asks
receives.” These are no idle words, spoken
with intention to deceive. They wero spo
ken for the encouragement of believers.
But why is it that so many prayers are
made with so little effect ? The reason is
that those who pray are not in earnest.
Prayer is, for the most part, mere form.
The heart is not in it.. When a hungry
man asks for bread, he feels hungry; and
his words are earnest. Blessed are they
that hunger and thirst after righteousness,
for they shall be filled. When men aßk of
men, they are in earnest. Not so when
they ask of God. Go to an ordinary meet
ing for prayer, and hear prayers for every
thing; many of them said as if the sayer
bad a limited number of minutes in which
to say his prayer. Then the prayer embra
ces every nothing; that is, tho man that
prays has DOthing particular to ask for;
and hence lie runs along at random. Such
prayers are not heard in heaven, because
there is nothing of earnestness in them.
They are forgotten as soon as said.
The Saviour teaches that earnestness is
needful. The man that went to his neigh
bor to borrow three loaves, was heard lor
his importunity. It was needful to rouse
bis neighbor from his bed. Then he ob
tained all that he wished. The point in
this parable is earnestness. Be in earnest;
ask till you receive. Continue to ask. Let
the heart be in the matter. Pour out the
soul in prayer. Let the prayer be in
wrought, energetic, persistent. God hears
such prayers.
When a man prays, he has his heart on
something that he feels the need of. But
at Church prayer-meetings, generally those
who meet have nothing special to ask for
Hence the wandering, rambling prayers so
often heard. Hence no blessing attending
the prayers.
lam going to prayer-meoting; for what
shall I 4 pray ? What do I need? Ho I feel
that I need anything ? Then ask for it.—
Standard.
Storm-proof Christians.
After twenty years of pastoral experience,
I have come to divide all church members
into two classes—fair-weather Christians
and storm proof Christians. This division
holds good through all the routine of relig
ious life. The first is composed of those
who rarely practice any self-denial for
Christ They not only dread a storm of
rain and snow, but a storm of reproaoh or
unpopularity. They are capital soldiers on
parade days, but are not worth a rush be
fore the cannon’s month. They are loud
in profession before a battle, and loud in
exultation after a victory, but daring the
fight they are always missing. Hemas
is the representative apo3tle of this class,
as Paul is the representative of the storm
proof disciple. Fair-weather Christians are
of no possible use, exoept to shame better
men into better conduct.
Commend me to the Christian who, when
the Sabbath'-bell rings, consults his con
science rather than his barometer. Com
mend me to the follower of Jesus who
chooses death or defeat rather than deser
tion. Commend me to him who, when du
ty sounds her trumpet, is always ready to
answer “Lord ! what wilt thou have mo to
do ?” He is Christ’s minute-man When
at last the messenger of death shall call
the roll, this man shall calmly and prompt
ly answer : Here ! And after ho has gone
to his heavenly reward, his name, like that
of the gallant young Huguenot captain,
shall bo kept on the roll of the regiment,
and whenever it is ealled some comrade in
the faith shall step forth and respond •
“Died on the battlefield!" In those days
of self-indulgence, may God send us more
religion that is storm-proof. — Dr. T. L.
Cuyler.
The Cross and the Crown —The
cross now, the orown to morrow. Now the
bed of languishing, to morrow the throne
of Jesus. What enoouragement to “fight
i the good fight of faith!’’ The body now
[ bears the spirit down ; wait till the dawn
1 of day, and the spirit will bear the body
up. A few breathings more in this dull
| and oppressive element, then all will bo
' health and buoyanoy, strength and gladness,
! purity and peace, the body changed, the
j heart all holy. Even now the Lord is with
1 you, hut you cannot see him for the dark
ness of the night. You walk by faith, not
by sight. Yet you can say, “I know my
Kedeemcr liveth.” He lives, he thinks of
you, he is with you, he will never leave you
nor forsako you. 110 is a friend, a brother, a
liord; a friend to guide you by his coun
sel, a brother to sympathize with you in all
your sorrow, a Lord to defend you from all
evil and make all things work together for
your good No safety but at his side, no
comfort but in his bosom, no strength but
in his arm, no holiness but in his steps.—
Hewitson.
A Picture of Jesus.
Jesus resembles no other man; He
speaks and aots as none of our kind ever
spoke and acted. At first He surprises us,
but as we contemplate him, our surprise
changes into admiration. The more we
examine the more we disoover in his words
profound thoughts and lofty sentiments
whieh, till then, had never entered our
minds or our hearts. In the midst of his
superior world and his superhuman atmos
phere Jesus lives and breaths as in his own
element. There ho moves freely, he speaks
without effort; all is familliar to him—bo
is at homo. Heaven is his oountry, holi
ness is his naturo, eternity is his life. He
does not demonstrate, as we mcro men are
obliged to do, who have no right to be be
lieved on our simple assertions ; ho speaks
like a God, whoso word is law. Nothing
embarrasses him ; he speaka of heaven and
hell, life and death, the judgment and eter
nity, as of things he has seen, and whioh
belong to his domain. His oonstant
thought is about the kingdom of God, and
he is solely occupied with the will of his
Father, and the sanctification of humanity.
His feet scarcely touch the earth, his heart
is ever in heaven. We feel that he is a
stranger to the filthy affairs of this world ;
even the functions of a secular judge are
beneath him; possibly his hand was never
soiled by contact with money. He is sim
ple and humble, but grave. He never ut
ters a jesting word; not even a useless ono ;
nor does he ever speak in order to display
his intellectual superiority. And as a last
noteworthy feature, Jesus certainly wept;
but wo do not learn that he ever laughed.
Yet he never forgot his disoiples, nor ever
lost sight of the most remoto generations
of sinners that were to come after him. His
thoughts, like his love, embrace tho uni
verse. Suroly, this is the Son of God !
If now we pass from the words to tho ac
tions of Jesus, wo arc filled with the same
admiration. It has been asserted that
Jesus patronizes the poor and threatens the
rich ; it would bo moro truthful to say that
he takes no account of either poverty or
riches ; gold and stubble are of equal valuo
to him. It is the spiritual condition of
those who approach him whioh claims his
attention. What he demandd is not lofty
thoughts or noble sentiment!, but a moral
condition which is possible to all. Ho asks
for a heart which, though broken and con
trite, yet expeots everything at hi3 hands—
healiDg grace, salvation, and eternal life.
W’heu Jesus performs miracles they do not
astonish him; ho is engaged in his own
proper work. We may, indeed, rejeot them
without examination ; but when we honest
ly study them, we find it to be quite natur
al that the Son of God should work such
miracles; especially sinoe these miraoles
have nothing in common with tho prodigies
of a thaumaturgus, whose aim is to fascin
ate the eye and to mislead the imagination.
The mighty works of Jesus are just what
we might expect from a God who created
and now sustains us; he gives food, health,
life, forgiveness, to all who, in faith, lay
their wants before him. Unbeliever, you
are surprised, and you do not know what
conclusion to draw from these miracles, but
you dare not deny them. Be sinoero and
confess that there is something in them be
yond your apprehension. Believer, you
are delighted. These miracles seem to you
the natural operations of the Son of God.
You learn from them that ho gives com
fort, healing and forgiveness. 110 were
not God did he act otherwise. Let but
Jesus speak, and your attention is redoubled.
His maxims, by penetrating in your spirit,
give you light; the more you study
them the more you will find them brilliant
with tho light of truth. They are like the
starry heavens, which reveal to your earn
est gaze, new depths filled with new lights,
of which even the most dim aro clear.
Moreover, that which removes from you the
fear of delusion, is the fact that all theso
marvels have, as their end and aim, not the
satisfaction of your curiosity, but the puri
fication of your heart, tho raising of your
mind, and the kindling of your devotion.
Yes; this is tho test by whioh we prove tho
pure gold of the character of Jesus Christ.
It is not possible to contemplate Him with
out moral gain. The glow of life is com
municated fron Him to us; it pervades our
being, it blesses and sanctifies us. Jesus
is the spiritual sun that warms and vivifies
our souls. No one but a God can make us
thus at once better and happier.—W. Rous
sel’s Christ of the Gospel.
Baptism of the Eunuch.
The Free Christian Commonwealth says,
This is regarded as the strongest ease prov
ing immersion to bo the mode of baptism.
We have ever regarded it as just the con
trary. The very place of the Scripture
which he was reading, declares that Christ
should baptize, or oonsecrato, by sprinkling.
Did Philip expound the word “sprinkle”
to be bantism ? Or how came the Eunuch
to ask to be baptized ? What did the place
of the Scripture whioh he was reading say
about baptism ? The words are, “So shall
he [Christ] sprinkle many nations.” Isaiah
lii 15. Tnis is the only allusion made to
baptism, in the whole passage; and the
word ( yazze ) here rendered sprinkle, has no
other signification. It occurs about twenty
two times in the Hebrew Bible, and is ren
dered in our English Bible in every in
stance, to sprinkle. Tho Latin, aspergit
to sprinkle. The Syriao, to purify, cleanse
by sprinkling. The Greek version renders
it by a word signifying astonish, wonder,
admire. Taken in either way, the word
oonveys dearly the idea that Christ would
purify, cleanse, make expiation for, conse
crate to his service by sprinkling many na
tions.
It is more fully explained by the passage
in Ezek. xxxvi. 25: “Then will I sprinkle
clean water upon you, and ye shall be dean.
Anew heart will I give you, and anew
spirit will I put within you. And Iwi 1
put my Spirit in you, and cause you to walk
in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judg
ments to do them.’’ Here the whole pro
cess of salvation or conversion, and conse
cration to the service of Christ, is given in
detail. Anew heart, a right spirit, the
Comforter given, and the whole symbolized
by sprinkling with dean water. Now, says
the Eunuch, see, here is water, why may I
not be baptized f Did he not
sprinkling to bo baptizing ? Most unques
tionably he did, if he understood the scrip
ture whioh he was reading. It matters not
how deep he went into the water of the
desert, he was to be baptized by sprinkling,
and we have no doubt that he was so bap
tized. . „,
“Why need be go down into the water r’
asks the immersionist, with emphasis.
We reply, to be baptized. The very
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR.
Whole Number 1754
same words would be used, if he had gono
down out of the chariot for a drink of
water, or to wash his hands, or to be
sprinkled with water. No other words
would bo used for either of theso acts.
Who then can determine that he was im
mersed in direct oontradiotion to the scrip
ture read; and in direct opposition to what
would most naturally be said, had he gone
to the water to wash, to drink, or to be
sprinkled? To infer that ho was immers
ed because the words “into” and “out of”
are used, is to beg the question. We
make no inference whatever, but state facts.
Those who say ho was immersed, must
prove it. We oannot allow a mere infer
ence, contrary to all the faots in the oase,
as any proof.
The Rainy-Night Prayer-Mooting.
This meeting was held at the usual hour,
at the usual place. As the preacher ex
peoted, it was not orowded. Looking
around, he saw that Bro. A. was not there.
This brother had not given directions about
an early suppor, and in oonsequenoe stayed
at home. .„ _ _
Bro. B. was not there.~~lH was a little
tired in the ankles, and the thought came
over him that the damp air and wet walk
ing would not improve his ankles.
Bro. C. was not there. He had been
busy through the day, and must needs read
the newspaper, whioh he had not found
time to read while from homo.
Bro. D. was not there. lie would have
come had there been any chance of his
making any turn to trade, or of his oorniDg
into possession of a five-pound note. As
it was, the preacher hardly expooted to see
him
Sister G. was there, and hor little girl.
She is a widow, and has hard work to get
along; but has hope of a better inheritance,
and a better lot in the world to oomo.
Sister H. was there, also. She got some
one to stay with the ohildron, and she and
her husband reached the house of prayer.
Bro. I was present, also. He is always
there. He believes in a consistent Chris
tian life. He does not get upon the moun
tain, and shout, at the top his voice, “Glo
ry ;” and then, before noon, sink down to
the bottom of the valley, and disappear
from sight.
And there wore several others there—all
sojourners and pilgrims, seeking a better
oountry, even a heavenly one. Some old
time melodies were sung—
“Thero is aland of pure delight”—
‘The praying spirit breathe,”—
“Forerer htre my rest shall be
some tears were shed, and some brief re
marks made—among them, an exhortation
by tho preacher. “There aro no rainy
nights in heaven, dear brethren and sisters,”
said ho. “The olouds never come to darken
the sun—tho glorious Sun of Righteous
ness. The damp vapors never aseend so
high as tho dome of the New Jerusalem.
Tkero are no thin congregations, no stay
ings at home to plot schemes or east ac
counts. There the musio swells from un
tiring lips forever and ever.
“There they who go in never go out any
more. Blessed land! While struggling
through this wilderness, how often my
heart goes up, and longs to be at home!
Yet not my will, but tho Lord’* bo done.
I am willing to labor and suffer, if at last
L shall be permitted to sit down with Abra
ham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom
of heaven.”
“Jerusalem, my happy home,”
was sung, and another prayer offered, and
then the little group orossed the threshold
of the church, and went home.
Dear reader, were yon at the prayer-met t
ing on the last rainy Thursday night, or
did you stay at home to enjoy yourself ?
Is it your calculation to stay at home and
enjoy yourself always ?—Western Christian
Advocate.
Teach Your Children to Pray.
The llov. J. ltyle, speaking on this sub
ject, says:
If you lovo your children, do all that lies
in your power to train them up to a habit
of prayer. Show them how to begin. Toll
them what to say. Enoourage them to per
severe. Remind them if they become care
less or slack about it.
This, remember, is the first step in reli
gion whioh a child is able to take. Long
before he can read, you can teach him to
kneel by his mother’s side, and repeat the
sinaplo words of prayer and praise which
Bhc puts into his mouth. Rowarc lest they
get in a hasty, oarelcss and irreverent man
ner. Never givo up the oversight of this
matter to servants or nurses, or to your
children when left to themselves.
That mother deserves no praise who never
lo ks after this most important part of her
child’s daily life herself. Mothers, surely
if there be any habit which your own hand
and eye should help in forming, it is the
habit of prayer. If you never hear your
children pray yourself, you are much to
blame. You aro little wiser than the bird
described in Job, “which leaveth her eggs
in the earth, and warmeth them in the dust,
and forgetteth that the foot may orush them,
or that the wild beast tnay break them. She
is hardened against her young ones, as
though they were not hers; her labor is in
vain without fear.”
Prayer is, of all habits, the one which wo
reco leot the longest. Many a gray headed
man oould tell you how his mother used tc
make him pray in the days of ohildhood,
Other things have passed away from his
mind, perhaps. The ohuroh where he was
taken to worship, the minister whom he
heard preaoh, the companions who used to
play with him—all these, it may be, havo
passed from his memory and left no mark
behind. But you will often find it far dif
ferent with his first prayers. He will often
be able to tell you where he first knelt, and
what he was taught to say, and how his
mother looked all the while. It will come
up as fresh before his mind’s eye as if it
was but yesterday.
Reader, if you love your ohildren, I
charge you, do not let the seed-time of a
prayerful habit pass away unimproved. If
you train your ohildren to anything, train
them, at least, to a habit of prayer.
Praver the incense of the soul,
The odor of tho flower,
And rises, as the waters roll,
To God’s controlling power.
“Apples of Gold."
Episcopal Unity (?) — The ProtcstaDt
Churchman says : “High Churchmen are
fond of shutting their eyes to the faot that
two parties, of whioh they arc one, exist in
the Church. Betwen these parties there is a
great gulf. In the words of a bishop, there
are “no mutual oounoils ; no associations in
sohools, colleges, or seminaries; no ex
change of pulpits; no periodicals having
general circulation ; no manual of instruc
tions whioh all can employ; no bishops
revered by all their charge, but everywhere
divided diocosos, divided parishes, divided
families ” Is not this the most arrant
“schism ?”
Church Debt. Tho Examiner and
Chronicle says : “We have known a debt
whioh served a wealthy churoh as a ready
plea against liberality in giving, though, all
the while, not a dollar was raised for its li
quidation. The debt stood undiminished
for years, but was sure to bo remembered
when a contribution was askod. It was a
handy thing to have.’’