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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.’’