Newspaper Page Text
THREE DOLLARS PER Ai>^,UM.
Vol. XXXII.—No- 40.
Contributions.
Life Insurance.
So Maynard, you’ve resisted the at
tacks of three Life Insurance Agents,
I hear. Why, you are the most obsti
nate man of my acquaintance,
M.— Firm , John, not obstinate.
J. —I can’t see the difference; no one
can prevail on you to insure.
M.—Well, John, I call a man obsti
nate when he persists in an unreason
able course; but when he pursues a
certain line of conduct, because he is
fully persuaded it is right, and is able
to give to his well-wishers sufficient
reasons for doing so, I think you should
call such a man firm, consistent.
J—But you certainly can’t think it
wrong for men to insure their lives.
M —l have never condemned any
man for doing so—l have thought,
spoken and acted in this matter with
reference to tnyself only.
J—Well now, Maynard, if it’s a fair
question, why won’t you insure your
life ?
M—l’ll try to answer that question
by asking you another. Why do you
Wish to insure?
J—O, that’s easily answered. I’m a
poor man, and that seems to mo the
best way I’ve ever heard of to provide
for my family.
M—Of course you allude to a provis
ion for the future when you may be
taken from them.
J—Certainly.
M—Well, John, I too am what is
called a poor man, and yet I am more
interested about providing for the pre
sent welfare of my family than I am
about striving to lay up money for fu
ture contingencies.
I—But is it wise to put away from
your mind the possibility that you
may die soon and leave a helpless fami
ly without a support ? You know, May
nard, that you never were a strong
man, and your health has been feeble
for the past three years ; now, it doos
seem to me that it would be an incon
ceivable comfort to you to know, that
if you were taken away from your
wife and children they would not be
obliged either to labor beyond their
strength or to suffer for the necessaries
of life.
M—John, I know that you speak as
a friend, but the very arguments that
you and others have used to induce me
to insure, satisfy my own mind that I
ought to do no such thing.
J—How is that?
M—ln the providence of God, I have
been deprived of a portion of the health
I onco enjoyed, and I and my family
aro dependent on my daily toil. Now,
as I know that my life is more valuable
to my family than any amount of mon
ey paid to them at my death could pos
sibly be, I think that I am bound, as
a Christian and tho head of a family,
to do all that I may by God’s help to
prolong it, and, if it is his will, I may
live to see my children able to do with
out a lather’s care. If I had been pay
ing an insurance policy at tho time of
my first illness, I would not havo been
able—without incurring debt—to pro
cure the medical attendance, medicines,
and comforts which were then necessa
ry. These, I was able to pay for, by
drawing on a fund which I had iu the
Savings’ Bank.
J—You don’t object to that Institu
tion then ?
M—No, because I can draw from my
savings when I have need of money ;
whereas, if I put it into a Life Insur
ance office I place it beyond my con
trol, and must continue to pay up reg
ularly, no matter to what straits I may
be reduced, or else lose all.
J—O, but you could always find
friends to help you in such a case.
M—And do you think it would be an
“inconceivable comfort” to me to secure
my family from possible want in the
future, by becoming burdensomo to
friends in the present ?
J—O, Maynard, you’re an impracti
cable fellow. But tell me, how did you
happen to have any money saved ?
M—l had now and then made an ef
fort to put by something, from the con
viction that a man ought, if possible,
to have something in reserve in caso of
sickness. This must be expected in
every family, and it is generally at
tended with considerable expense. I
thought, too, that if wo should bo
spared these afflictions, tho store thus
saved might some day enable us to pur
chase a little place to call our own.
J—And have you any hope of doing
so ?
*M—O no, for I was obliged to draw
again on that deposit when I went to
the Mountains last summer. My wife
would not rest until I agreed to do it,
and I truly believe, that if I had not
taken that trip I would not have had
strength for my winter’s work. That
rest was taken at a critical juncture,
and I feel that I would not have been
alive to-day, if I had not been able to
get it. If I had been obliged to make
a payment on an insurance policy, I
would have stayed at home and stuck
to my work—or tried to do it—and by
this time my family would probably
have been in receipt of five or ten
thousand dollars, as the prico of mv
life.
J—l am sure you are right, May
nard, in taking care of your health,
and as I am aware that you have no
expensive habits, such as most men in
dulge iu, I don’t think you could re
trench with regard to yourself; but it
does seem as if you might manage
somehow to save enough to pay for
your insurance.
M—l will never try to save by de
"-siving my family of any thing which
1 consider essential to their well-being.
My wife is, you know, not able to en
dure toil and privation—though she
has the spirit to do and bear any thing
that Providence appoints, she has a
delicate constitution, and it is, there
fore, my first duty as a husband to care
for her health. 1 have always insisted
on her securing tho services of compe
tent servants, so that no labor for
which she is physically unfit might fall
on her. I want her always to feel that
the money for this purpose is cheerful
ly afforded. We feel, too, that it is the
more easily afforded as she undertakes
the education of the children, Which is
to her a great pleasure, and is no doubt,
an incalculable advantage to them.
J —She likes teaching then ?
M—Yes, and as sewing is injurious
to her, I insist on her putting that out.
J—But that must be a tremendous
expense.
M—No, for you must remember that
she teaches the children, and so is'well
able to pay for her sewing. You know
our principles with regard to dress pre
vent our having as much of it as many
would think necessary.
J—Well I happen to know that your
wife pays good prices for her work.
M—“ Live and let live” is a good
motto, John. And are we not com
fwtttfcecM (Thtislian
manded to give that which is just and
equal to those who labor for us?
J—How much do you think is saved
by having no school bills to pay ?
M —Why, I might, you know, send
them to these dollar schools which have
become so popular, and have the four
children taught for ten months, at a
cost of only 840. But such schools
would not suit my purpose, which is to
have my children properly educated. I
could have them taught—the eldest is
now thirteen—at the best school in the
city at an expense of 8190, for the
same length of time, and I would
cheerfully pay it to a competent and
conscientious teacher, if we did not feel
that our present arrangement is the
best possible for our children and for
their mother.
J Maynard, you must not think me
impertiment, or a busy body in what
does not concern me—l am anxious to
see you and yours do well, and if I say
too much you must excuse me. Some
of your friends think you give more to
tho church, and afford more to charita
ble purposes than could be expected
from a man in your circumstances.
M—Ah, my friend, I have always
wished ever since I became a member
of Christ’s church, to hold all that I
havo and am in subordination to His
will, so far as He has made it known to
me. When I consider what a blessing
the church is to me, to my family—to
tho world —I feel that I want to sharo
all that I have with tho church. How
can I retrench in this direction ? Is not
tho Church “the body of Christ?” And
with regard to giving to, or helping,
those who are in need, the great Head
of the Church has said, “Inasmuch as
ye havo done it unto one of the least
of these my brethren, ye have done it
unto mo.” Has he not laid on us this
command too, “Thou shall love they
neighbor as thyself.”
J —Well, now, with regard to your
children: don’t you let them lay up
something intho Savings’ Bank? Many
people think it a good way to teach
them tho worth of money, and make
them prudent in spending it.
M—No, John, I know too well the
selfishness of tho natural heart. I
want them to loarn tho worth of mon
ey by considering the wants of those
who are destitute of the comforts and
blessings which money can procure;
and I will try also to teach them the
worthlessness of money without tho
blessing of the Lord, which makoth
rich. If they aro encouraged to hoard
up money for future use, or to waste it
in tho gratification of every idle whim,
they will grow up to be careless and
hard-hearted with regard to the wants
and sufferings of their fellow-creatures.
I trust that 1 may, with God’s help, bo
able to preserve my children from hab
its of “softness and needless self-indul
gence,” and I do hope that they will so
learn the true value of money that
they may never be disposed to spend it
foolishly, but rather regard it as a gift
from God for the proper use of which
they must ono day give account.
J—Well, Maynard, though I do bo
liove you aro taking the right course
in bringing up j’our children, because
it is ono that is calculated to render
them independent of tho chances of
fortune, I would liko to ask you anoth
er question before I give you up.
M—As many as you like, John.
J—Now, I want you to tell mo can
didly, don’t you feel anxious when you
reflect that you are not laying up mon
ey for your family ?
M—lt is true, John, that I am some
times tempted to indulge in anxioty on
their account; but I thank God that
by faith in Him, and by tho help of my
good wife, I have always been able to
throw off such fears, and to feel strong
er alter having done so. We find it a
good plan to read very often, for our
direction and encouragement, the 34th
and 37th Psalms —the Gth and 25tb
chapters of Matthew, and the 12th of
Luke With these to teach and help
me, I trust that I may bo preserved
from making such efforts to secure
things temporal for those I love as
might make me forgetful of the higher
duties that I owe to them, and to my
God. Ido not intend, by anything I
have said to condemn a course which
many good men have taken ; but for
me to insure my life would bo practical
infidelity, and 1 could only expect that
my children would grow up to disre
gard tho commands and promises ot
the Bible —to think that they were in
tended only for peoplo who lived in
old times, not for “our people, since the
war.” C. L.
The New Hymn Book.
It has been made known that with
the assistance of Miss Phoebe Cary, I
have been preparing a Hymn Book.
It is about ready for delivery. Tho
Publishers aro Messrs. Hurd & Hough
ton, 459 Broome St., New York It
has been manufactured at their River
side Press, which has world-wide repu
tation for the beauty of the books it pro
duces. Tho head of the printing-house,
Mr. H. O. Houghton, has taken un
usual interest in making this a supe
rior specimen of American typography.
And now I desire to let all who take
interest in such a work know just
what this new book is.
This compilation is not intended to
supplant any collection now in use, but
rather to serve all Christians by put
ting in their hands a convenient manu
al, embracing all the best and most
used Hymns of all branches of the
Church of Christ.
Os other books, it must Lave been
generally noticed that tho larger are
cumbered with very many hymns,
which, because of their metre or their
lack of poetical or devotional worth,
are never used. I onco marked, in a
standard hymn hook of a leading de
nomination, every hymn of which I
remembered to havo ever heard any
portion sung or quoted ; and of the
whole number, which exceeded a thous
and, only two hundred and thirty
seven were marked. Tho smaller com
pilations aro either sectarian or care
lessly made, without regard to the
wants of Christians generally, and ap
parently with no high standard of ex
cellence.
In this book tho classification has
been made according to the apostolic
category of, Hymns, and Spiritual
Songs, and Psalms. (Col. iii. 16.) It
was agreed that each Hymn should be
a metrical address to God; that the
Spiritual Songs should have more lati
tude of signification, embracing what
ever might be edifying in social sing
ing ; and that among the Psalms should
be admitted many such as should more
usually bo “said” rather than “sung.”
To the best of the knowledge, judg
ment, and taiste of my gifted eo-workor
and myself, the one hundred best
Hymns have been selected according
to their poetical excellence, their devo
tional fervor, and their popularity.
Sometimes, one of these characteristics
has been so manifest as to secure our
verdict in the absence of the two
others ; but in no case have we admit
ted a Hymn which we did not believe
to be in accordance with “the mind of
the Spirit,” as set forth in the word of
God,nor one that might not be sung
in all its parts by all the people in the
service of the sanctuary. Among the
Spiritual Songs have been inserted
some which hold their place by their
popularity. The compilers did not \
choose to let their standard pronounce j
a final judgment against what thous- I
ands had found edifying or pleasant; j
but in no case, it is thought, has this j
feeling secured the admission of what j
will seem offensive to any pure taste, j
The best one hundred Spiritual Songs j
have thus been obtained. The Psalms j
have been called Lyrics, as the former j
title has obtained a specific designation, j
perhaps somewhat more narrow than ;
the design of this book.
At first it was thought quite easy to i
find what was needed. But the labor
grew. We have rejected and substitu- j
ted as the*work progressed, until now ]
there are finally rejected nearly fifty
poems we had at some time accepted.
Months have been given to reading,
comparison, and correspondence ; about
twenty thousand metrical compositions
in English, German, and Latin, have
been examined; and this book is the
result. We have been most careful not
to take undue liberties with the pro- j
duetions of Christian genius, and tho
alterations have consisted mainly in
bringing back to the original, hymns
that had been mutilated, and in con
densing what seemed too long for pub
lic service.
Nothing was admitted upon which
Miss Cary and myself did not agree ;
and if any special favorito is missed by
any reader, let him know that he has
the sympathy of each compiler, for
each has had some pot thing thrown out
by what seemed the obstinate want of j
taste or judgment in the other : hut by
this independence of judgment and
faithfulness of criticism wo believe that
we have secured what we confidently
hope the Christian world will pro
nounce, upon the whole , the best three
hundred devotional poems extant.
The good and great John Wesley de
clared his Hymn Book to be tho best
the world had seen, as it perhaps was
when it appeared. It cannot be im
proper after having had tho advanta
ges of his labors and those of many
others since his day, to say what has
been just written of our now hook.
There is not space to give the names
of all to whom gratitude is due; hut I
must mention especially my learned
brother, Thomas O. Summers, I). I)., of
Nashville, Tenn., and F. 11. Houston
Esq., the Librarian of the Mercantile
Library in New York, as having given
liberal aid to this undertaking.
Tho price of thebook is—plain, flexi
ble cloth 81, red or gilt edged 81.25,
morocco, gilt or red edged $1.75.
Desiring to have it widoly known, a
copy shall ho sent by mail pre-paid, to
any minister of tho gospel, or Sunday
school superintendent or teacher, or
any teacher in a Seminary, for the plain
cloth 75c., red or gilt edged 81, or mo
rocco, red or gilt edged $1 25.
As, this is a deduction from tho Pub
lishers’ usual price, tho order should be
sent directly to mo, and should give the
Post Office, County, and State. My
address is Charles F Deems,
45 Bible House, New York.
From the Nashville Christian Advocate.
History of Methodism in Tennessee.
We have just publ’shed the first volume
of Dr. McFerrin’s History of Methodism
in Tennessee. It is a magnificent duode
cimo of 528 pages. Tiie typography (pica
leaded) will rejoice the eyes, as tiie subject
matter will cheer tiie hearts of the old
people, who will recognize many a vene
rated and familiar name iu these interest
ing annals. When tiie author first in
formed us of his intention to write this
History, we are free to say that we doubt
ed whether he could collect the necessary
materials for the work. We were not
aware that he had been for many years
gathering facts and incidents, papers and
pamphlets, letters and volumes, furnish
ing the richest matter for his projected
work. From these resources he has con
cocted the first volume of his History,
which will he read with intense aud sus
tained interest, and will whet the appetite
•of the reader for the volumes which are
to follow. We venture to express the hope
that the author will not allow any grest
interval to pass before the second volume
shall go to press. We predict for this
History a rapid aud an extensive circula
tion. The work is of Counectional —we
should rather say, national—interest, as it
goes back to the origines of American
Methodism.
The present volume is graced with the
following beautiful dedication :
To my Honored and Beloved Mother,
Mrs. Jane C- mpbell Berry McFerrin— My
dear Mother: I wish to dedicate to you
this volume as a token ot more than filial
love. To you, in a great measure, I am
indebted for early religious impressions ;
especially to your blameless life and beau
tiful example do I owe my first concep
tions of the excellence of virtue aud the
bliss of connubial life. Being your first
born, I had the opportunity ot witnessing
along life of affection betweeu you and
my now sainted father, whose memory to
me is like precious ointment; anil it af
fords me pleasure to record, now that you
are four score and four, that I have no re
membrance of an unkind expression be
tween my revered parents; but on the
contrary, words and acts of mutual res
pect and genuine love.
We were not born in the Methodist
Church, but in auother branch of the great
family of Christ; yet through the instru
mentality of the Methodists we were
brought to a knowledge of sin and led to
Jesus, who gave us repentance and remis
sion. It was a happy day when you and
my father and >our eldest son all together
uuited with the Methodist Episcopal
Church. Since that, you have lived to see
your husband, three sons, two grandsons,
a»on-iu-law, and two grandsons by mar
riage, Methodist preachers. More than
this: you have a large posterity, all of
whom, this day, are members of the Meth
odist Church. Os more than ninety soufs
of your own posterity aud those connected
therewith by marriage, perhaps there is
not more than one who is not in the same
Church with yourself. It is true, a por
tion of your family have crossed tiie flood
and are now iu the city of God, but still
One family we dwell in him.
One Church, above, beneath,
Though now divided by the stream,
The narrow stream ol death.
May your few remaining days, my be
loved mother, be calm and tranquil, and
your last moments joyful aud triumphant,
and when the great day shall come, may
you, with your long train of posterity,
stand on the right baud, and say, with
joy, “Behold, I and the children whom
the Lord hath giveu oie!”
Your affectionate sou,
J. B. McFerrin.
July, 1869.
We beg permission to copy into our col
umns the Author's Introduction, as it will
more fully reveal the character of the
work :
It was Dr. Chalmers, the great Scotch
preacher, I believe, wliosaid, “ Methodism
is Christianity in earnes'." Such a Chris
tianity, of course, has a history, and that
history should be written. No man who
is impartial in judgment, or unprejudiced
iu feeling, will doubt that Johu Wesley
under God, projected a great work when
he determined to constitute his Societies
in America an independent Church. The
: result has fully verified the wisdom of the
measure. American Methodism is with-
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & CO., TOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
out a parallel in modern times. Within
the space of one hundred years, the origi -
nai Society, numbering a few persons, has
multiplied into two millions, besides the
myriads who have died in the faith. The
progress of the Church iu Sunday-schools,
in Church-literature, in schools and col
leges, in Church-architecture, and in its
great missionary enterprises, has iu a mea
sure been equal to the increase of numbers.
The Methodist Church has become a great
moral power in the land; its influence is
felt in all departments of society; every
Protestant Church in America recognizes
it as a grand wing of the mighty army of
the living God, In the South-west the
Methodists have been very successful ;
and in no portion of the Valley of the
Mississippi have they been more prospe
rous than in Tennessee. The Methodist
Church is by far the largest in the State.
Its ministers rank with the most intellec
tual and popular preachers of the land,
and its membership are inferior to none
iu all the relations of life. Besides, Ten
nessee has sent forth toother States many
flaming heralds of the cross; its sons are
iu every part of the South and South-west,
and its laymen have gone to new coun
tries and aided in building up and extend
ing the cause of Christ in "the regions
beyond.” It has been the cherished pur
pose of the author for years to perform the
task he has now undertaken, but until
recently the opportunity seemed to be un
favorable. By tire blessing of God, he has
been able to complete the first volume,
which, God willing, will soon be followed
by others He now submits the result of
his labors to a geuerous Christian public,
praying the blessing of God upon the
reader and upon the Church that he has
served from his youth.
The author is indebted to several writers
wi:o have contributed much to the history
of early times in Teuuessee Some of
these prepared matter at his special re
quest. J. B. McFerrin.
Nashville, July 29, 1869.
As we wish everybody to get the work
as speedily as possible, we must forego the
luxury of quoting largely from it—we
must, however, copy the closing para
graphs, because of their intrinsic value,
aud as a specimen ot the author's style :
The whole membership in America, in
1783, numbered 13 740. with 59 preachers;
in 1804, there were 113,134 members and
400 preachers. Os 113 134 members, 9,082
whites aud 518 colored were reported from
the Western Conference.
Methodism haviug been introduced at
an early day in Teuuessee, took deep root,
aud had grown to be a great tree in the
space of a few years. Teuuessee was the
liist of the Western or South-western
States to nurture Methodism, and has
therefore been justly denominated the
“Mother of Conferences.” Her sons and
daughters, everywhere in the vast West
and South, adorn the Church. By Ten
nessee, it is to be borne iu mind that tho
Holston aud Memphis Conferences are
included, as both these lie mainly iu the
State of Tennessee. The grand success of
Methodism in Tennessee, under God, was
attributable, in a measure, to the zeal aud
ability of the first preachers. Massie, L ie,
Birchett, McHenry, Burke, vVilkerson,
Page, McGee, Gwiu, McKendree, Garrett,
Blackman, Brooks, Green, Hill, audothers
of tiie same class, were men of giant
minds. They would have been consider
ed ministers of ability in any age, or in
any country. In the work of establishing
Christianity iu this country, Methodism
was not assigned to novices; on the con
trary, men of talents and of sound judg
ment were employed—men who under
stood the plan of salvation—men who
were able to meet the objections of infidels
and to contend successfully with such as
caviled at the truths of revelation—men
who understood Methodist doctrines and
Methodist economy, and who were able
to defend their Church against the attacks
of its enemies.
Another cause of the success of Metho
dism iu these early days is found in the
fact that the preachers had aicess to the
best class of society, as well as to the poor
and ignorant. The mtelllgen'ceand tine pul
pit oratory of the early Methodist preach
ers commended them to all classes, and
commanded the respect and reverence of
the most fastidious and highly cultivated.
The pathos of Massie and Lee, the logic
of McHenry anti Burke, the polemical
power of Page and Garrett, the zeal and
piety of Walker aud Lakin, the auction
aud poetry of Wilkerson aud Gvviu, the
thunder and lightning of Mc.-iee aud
Granade, aud the tine talents and noble
bearing of McKe :dree aud Blackman,
drew the multitudes to Methodist meet
ings, and brought thousands of the best
people of the laud into the Church. And
these men of God went into the hovels of
the poor and sought thehaltand the blind,
the maimed and the distressed, preactied
to them Jesus and the resurrection, and
won multitudes to the cross of Christ.
Another, and perhaps the controlling
element in the success of Methodists, was
fouud in the zeal and earnestness of the
preachers, and iu the evangelical charac
ter of the doctrines which they proclaim
ed. The zeal of the pioneer preachers
knew no limit. They were instant in sea
son aud out of season. No chauge of
weather or climate, no swollen streams or
lofty mountains, bindeOU them; on tbey
pressed, preaihing and nigiit, aud
praying sinners every where to be recon
ciled to God. Poverty was no barrier;
hard fare was not in the way ; they slept
iu cabins, or camped in theopen air; lived
on wild meat and bread of pounded meal;
wore threadbare garments, and suffered
privaiious of every sort; yet. on and on
they pressed, counting not their lives dear
to them, so that they might finish their
work with joy. The heroic age of Metho
dist preachers, in all that appertains to
genuine heroism, is not surpassed The
first preachers of the West were brave
men—men who were not afraid of toil or
hardship, or suffering, or death.
The love of Christ, t'aeir hearts constrained,
Aud strengthened their unwearied hands;
They S|>eut, their sweat, their bl >ud, aud pains,
To cultivate Immanuel’s lands
They had oue peculiar advantage, how
ever. Their doctrines were popular with
the masses who were not committed to
any particular creed. The old doctriues of
the Antiuomiaus were becoming thread
bare under a more euiighteued state of
society ; and the more moderate doctrines
of unconditional election and reprobation,
as held by Hie Presbyterians and many of
the Baptists, were regarded as akin to real
Antinomianism, and unfriendly to the
growth and prosperity of the Church of
Christ. No man liked to believe that by
the foreknowledge of God, aud the irre
vocable decree of the Most High, without
reference to character or conduct, he was
doomed to eternal punishment. Every
man delighted to entertain the opinion
that there was hope for him. When,
therefore, a minister came before the mul
titude aud proclaimed "tree grace,” “free
salvation,” that Christ died forevery man,
and that ail might be saved and come to a
knowledge of the truth , the proclamation
fouud a ready response in the hearts of
the people. With this popular theme the
Methodist preachers went abroad, and
they were followed by the crowds of anx
ious hearers, aud their doctrines were re
ceived and believed, and brought many to
Christ. It is true that they met very
stroug opposition among those whose
creeds were iu danger, and who were wed
ded to their Confessions of Faith ; but in
every controversy tbey gained the victory.
It was only necessary for the people to
understand the doctrines of Methodism,
and then, if tbey were not ready to em
brace them, they were willing that every
man should be fully persuaded in his own
mind
The reader should never forget the last
consideration that shall be mentioned in
this connection. It is this: thesuccessof
the first Methodist preachers depended on
their faith in Christ, and the help of the
Holy Ghost. “Zo, lam with you," was
always before them ; aud “ Without me ye
can do nothing ,” was ever present on their
minds. A live Christianity makes live
ministers and live Christians. No Church
can prosper without a living ministry;
and no ministry can give life and energy
to a Church or people without the abiding
influence of the Holy Ghost, which is pro
mised to every true ambassador of Christ.
The history of the Church inTeuuessee,
from this period forward, is full of interest,
aud will be read aud studied by every lov
er of Christ with emotions of pleasure.
A Moveable Choir.—A missionary on
the line of the Pacific Railroad gives the
following as part of his experience: A
few weeks since the writer preached in
Cheyenne on the street, with a dry goods
Macon, G-a., Friday, October 1, 1869.
box for a pulpit. The choir were seated
in a.buggy, when the horse became fright
ened, aud away went the choir, singing
cJTthey went. We wish, says the Presby
terian, that some of the choirs in our
eastern churches could be moved as readi
ly. An organ with a rotary motion would
be valuable at times also.
Character of Bishop McKendree,
from “life and TIMES,” by BISHOP paixe.:
The personnel of Bishop McKendree
was a true iudex of the man. He was
nearly six feet high, and finely propor
tioned. His forehead was high and broad,
hjs eyes dark, large aud somewhat pro
truding—their predominant expression,
under ordiuary circumstances, was benig
nity, but they were capable of speaking
with vivacity or of expressing severe re
buke. All bis features taken together,
were in harmony; and when he was ex
cited, it was the most sparkiing face I ever
looked upon. His skin, even in the de
cline of life, was almost pearly white, and
reminded one of the flue mezzotint en
graving. The writer flrst saw him in
1817, aud, although he was falling into
"the sear and yellow leaf” of life, his ap
pearance Was very prepossessing and ex
pressive. In dress lie was very neat. A
black, round-breasted coat, white neck
tie, short breeches, with knee buckles aud
shoe-buckles, aud a white, broad-brimmed
hat, was a costume that gave to his flue
fjrin a venerable aud commanding ap
jftarauce. In his later years, he exchang
ffikthe short clothes and buckles for pan
taloons—except on special occasions—but
retained the other items of dress. He
must have been an active and vigorous
man in his prime, and more than ordina
rily fine-looking, not to say handsome.
His voice was soft and yet penetrating,
aud was wonderfully persuasive and me
lodious.
His early educational advantages were
not great; but with his quick aud observ
ant mind, which he was daily improving,
he became a correct and effective speaker.
He had fine taste iu selecting the best
words to express his ideas. He thought,
read aud studied much, especially on mor
al and religious subjects. Iu the depart
ment of biblical doctrines and Church
bistory aud government, he had few
equals.
His mind was logical. He excelled in
what is called practical or common sense.
The Holy Scriptures were read regularly,
and studied attentively. He believed
them implicitly, and devoted his whole
soul to their teachings.
His preaching was spiritual. All mere
ly speculative questions he avoided in the
pulpit. Christ crucified for the world,
the manner aDd means of receiving him,
and the evidences of having done so, as
as the duties arising from our obli
gations, were his favorite themes. He
was an attractive aud instructive preacher,
aud sometimes a powerful one. Splendid
displays of imagination, culled in the
ffeid of fancy and carefully stored iu the
memory, to be used for gaining admira
tion, were distasteful to him. He was
solemn aud deeply in earnest iu deliver
ing his message. His flrst and only aim
was to be understood by all, and to draw
his iiearers to Christ; and he would as
soon have put on gorgeous apparel as to
have dressed his sermons iu an ornate,
oratorical style. He preferred, in this
respect, to imitate Christ, his apostles, and
Wesley.
His piety was profound. Conscien
tiousness was a prominent trait in his
character, aud one more truthful in word
and deed I never saw. He prayed much
and regularly—took all his cares and
wants to God in prayer. His standard of
religion, experimental and practical, was
a high one. He watched, prayed, fasted
and labored in earnestness. He was a
bply man, loving God with ail his heart,
autCbis neighbor as himself. No one ever
was known to doubt liis purity of charac
ter: in this he was a bright exemplar. In
his social intercourse there was nothing
light or frivolous. A simple gravity was
<* ! iaracteri**io of-his mannerand yet;
there was iu it nothing repulsive. It
seemed impossible to associate with him
and not respect aud venerate him ; and
in an ingenuous mind, these feeliugs soon
warmed into love of the most enduring
kind.
He loved the Church. It is doubted
whether any man since St. Paul—not
even excepting Asbury—loved it more.
Such was his auxious concern for its wel
fare, ttiat his very soul was burdened with
care. The difference, in this respect, be
tween men equally good and great, has
often been seen. Some physicians are so
constituted that every case of serious ill
ness among their patieuts harasses them
—they cannot dismiss it from their minds.
They enter into the sympathies of their
patients and their families; they become
nurses as well as doctors. And such are
apt to wear themselves out, and sink into
premature graves. Yet others can per
form, and faithfully, too, their profession
al duties, and soon bar.ish anxiety from
their hearts. It is so with preachers. I
have imagined St. Paul was one of the
former class—was always oppressed by
"the care of all the Churches;” while
St. Peter was probably of the latter class.
It is so now, aud has ever been so, among
preachers and bishops; and they are
Jueither better nor worse for it, if restraiu-
V.ii within reasonable bounds, and arising
from purely constitutional tendencies
Now, Bishop McKendree, iu this respect,
belonged to the former class. He could
not divest himself of anxiety about auy
interest of the Church when it was in the
least imperiled. From 1820 to 1828, he
was greatly troubled. He regarded the
efficiency of the Episcopacy aud the itin
erant system as iu peril, in the Reform
and Radical movements of that period.
The prosperity and safety of the Church,
he firmly believed, were identified with
the strict observance of the chartered
rights of the constitution. Innovations
on this instrument he regarded with
alarm. In other things, not tending to
lower the scriptural and Wesleyan stand
ard of experimental and practical piety of
the Church, he was liberal: so that while
he opposed changes, the utility of which
he doubted, aud was therefore a conserva
tive, in other things he was a progression
isl. Yet he stood opeuly opposed to sud
den aud great changes, and his motto
might have beeu “ Festina lente."
Like Asbury, Lee, Bruce, aud a good
many of the Methodist iiiueraut preach
ers of their day, Bishop McKendree never
married ; nor have we auy reason to be
. lieve he ever attempted to do so. At that
rtinie their salary was so small, their ap
pointments so often ehauged, aud their
work so arduous, that, as a general rule,
to marry was to locate. Indeed, preach
ers and people disapproved of it; and to
marry under eight or ten years of Itiner
aut service, was regarded with general
disfavor, almost amounting to proof posi
tive of backsliding, as an itinerant preach
er. To be changed every three or six
months, to drag a family from the Atlantic
sea-board to the Holston or to Cumber
land, was a very serious matter. A preach
er might love a lady too much to seek her
haud ; so thought many who could “re
ceive” Bt. Paul’s advice to the preachers
of liis day. Home of this early class did
marry in advanced life, perhaps upon the
principle which an old itinerant once
gave as his apology for so doing, that he
could uo longer travel and preach, and
was fit for nothing else ; he had, there
fore, got married aud located. Now, the
writer thinks that the Church and the
world are better off on account of this
habit of our fathers. Bishop McKendiee
was probably more useful as a single man
than he could have been otherwise. The
condition of the work at that time seem
ed to require it of him: anil it is very
questionable whether the habit of the
preseut day of assuming the care of a
family while quite young in the ministry,
ia the “better” way. The Bishop, while
he thought it lawful, did not think it was
expedient for him to marry : “he never
found time to get married.”
He was a model Bishop, combining eve
ry qualification for this high and holy
office—wise, prudent, vigilant, industri
ous, unselfish, unblamable, aud holy—he
presided with dignity and gentleness, and
preached with power and success. By no
act or word did he dishouor his office.
He was the first native American Bishop in
the Methodist Episcopal Church, and in
ferior in the aggrtgate of those qualities
which the office requires to no one before
or since his day. iNo man can ever fill
the niche of Asbury—he wa9, under God,
the father of American Methodism—he
was superior to McKendree only In priori
ty of time, length of life, and service.
Both of them did what they could —all
they could. The mantle of the elder fell
on his shoulders, and both unreservedly
consecrated their all to God and his
Church. Wesley drew from the Bible
the plan of the spiritual edifice, Asbury
began to build up in America, and Mc-
Kendree carried forward the work “as a
wise master-builder.”
It would be unjust to the memory of
Bishop McKendree not to notice the fact
that he felt the liveliest interest iu all the
religious and intellectual enterprises of
his time. He was the flrst President of
our Bible aud Missionary Societies, and
when it was proposed to merge the for
mer in the “American Bible Society,” he
gave it his concurrence, aud was ever its
ardent friend. His devotion to the Mis
sionary Society needs not to be repeated .-
so also as to Sunday-schools. He was,
moreover, deeply impressed with the im
portance and necessity of education. He
had seen the unfortunate attempt of Bish
ops Coke and Asbury to build up Cokes
bury into literary institutions of high
grade. He had been mortified by a simi
lar failure iu Kentucky to found Bethel
Academy, and be wisely thought that our
resources were then inadequate and the
country too new to justify costly attempts;
but for many years before his death he
was exceedingly desirous to see our people
unite iu erecting a few first-class colleges.
The last letter the writer ever received
from him, and not long previous to his
death, contained fifty dollars for La-
Grange College, signed, "Nobody.” The
hand writing detected the giver. No ap
peal iiad been made to him ; yet, out of
his annual pittauce, he was prompted by
bis interest in the cause of education to
make the donation, aud to conceal the
donor. His special object was that the
money should be applied to place in the
college-library the standard religious liter
ature of the Church, for the religious in
struction and benefit of the students. Os
course it was done.
Was Bishop McKendree a great man ?
In reply, it must be said the auswer de
pends upon tiie meaning of the question.
We readily admit he was not pre-eminent
as a scholar, an orator, a writer, or a
preacher ; still he was more than respec
table in all these particulars, and yet
many, doubtless, excelled him in each of
these departments—some in one, aud some
in auother. Iu all that constitutes genius
aud intellectual pre-eminence, we admit
at once he had many superiors ; yet his
mind was richly stored with varied aud
useful knowledge. He had a fine fancy,
without a brilliant imagination ; his ap
prehensions were very quick and cornet;
his judgment was excellent; his language
simple, chaste, and appropriate; his man
ner grave and graceful. He was a sound
theologian, a good expositor always
methodical aud clear—and in his palmy
days a deeply impressive aud powerful
preacher. Iu his official deportment, as
well as in piety toward God aud ab
sorbing devotion to the eternal interests
of men, he had no superior: so that while
he was iu every respect highly reputable,
yea, eminent in many things, without
claiming preeminence in any one eudow
meur, yet take him in the aggregate—
mind, heart, life, labors, and results— he
was a great man : aud we doubt not the
judgment of the last day will so decide.
anfc ©whence,
A Remarkable Case.
A few years ago an old man died in
Loudon, who was a remarkable instance
of the mutability of human affairs, of the
long-suffering aud the grace of God, and
of the benefits arising from special aud
extraordinary efforts for the salvation of
men. He was born in 1770, and when
twenty years of age he went to London to
seek employment as a journeyman tailor.
In a few yeans he commenced business on
his own account, aud he was so success
ful that iu 1824 lie was the owner of one
of the largest establishments in the most
fashionable part of the city, with an in
come of nearly ten thousand pounds a
year, a capital of one hundred thousand
pounds, au expeusive establishment in
the country, and considerable influence.
But tie was not satisfied with what he
possessed, and his desire to increase his
wealth led him to poverty. He became a
speculator in tbe Stock Exchange, and
investiug his money unwisely, lie in one
year lost three-fifths of his property. Other
losses followed, the remnants of his wealth
soon dwindled away, and he who had liv
ed iu a fashionable square had at length
to take up his abode as a weekly tenant
iu a miserable attic iu the most wretched
part of the city. He wa3 at this time
nearly eighty .years old. A few years af
ter this his wife, who was a Chri-tian
woman, died, and his cup of sorrow, al
ready filled to the brim, seemed to over
flow. With his home comforts diminish
ed, be was reduced to a miserable pittance,
doled out to him by the parish authorities
and some relatives.
In these trying circumstances lie had
not the privilege which Christians enjoy
in seasons of difficulty and sorrow. Asa
man of business, he had been esteemed
for his integrity aud uprightness, and
he had striven to maintain his character,
and had prided himself upon it. He had
been aceu-itoined to attend the services of
the Established Church, and thought he
was doing his duty. But he had not sub
mitted himself to God, he had not receiv
ed salvation through Jesus Christ, and
hence, instead of trusting in Godin the
lime of his extremity, and looking to him
for help, he could only curse himself for
his imprudence and folly, which had
brought him into these straits.
Reduced from affluence to tiie most ab
ject poverty, burdened with sorrow, with
out money, without friends, without hope
for tiie present or the future, an old man
nearly ninety years of age, he went about
like one beside himself. Cue Loid’s day
evening, in the summer of 1860, lie resolv
ed to commit suicide, anil left his misera
ble room with the intention to return to
it no more. His destination was tiie
square called Lincoln's Inn Fields. It
was nearly nine o’c ock, aud to his sur
prise, instead of finding it nearly desert
ed, he saw a crowd of persons there. On
going up to them to ascertain what was
going on, he found a city missionary in
the midst, who was reading the account
of the conversion of tbe jailor at Philippi,
and the words, “Do thyself no barm,”'
forcibly arrested bis attention. He lis
teued with iuterest to tiie address which
followed. He saw that he himself was on
the brink of ruin, that he needed salva
tion, and that only Jesus eoulil save him,
and instead of rushing into the presence
of God, he returned home to cry to God
for mercy. In a few days he was led to
trust iu Jesus as his Saviour. Poor and
wretched as lie was, he learned that Jesus
was his friend, and this knowledge made
him happy. He enjoyed peace in believ
ing. He uow became very earnest iu bis
attendance ou the means of grace, and al
most every evening in tho week found
him at some religious meeting, and in the
summer he was a coustaut attendant on
the open air services of tiie square where
he flrst realized his condition as a sinner,
and was thus led to Christ lor salvation.
Ou oue occasion, he told the city mission
ary and his pastor that he had enjoyed
more real happiness since his conversion,
notwithstanding his loneliness and pov
erty, than he had experienced in all the
years of his worldly prosperity ; that he
continually blessed God, that in order to
save his soul, he had permitted his riches
to fly away; and that although that day
he had had only two baked apples for his
dinner, he would rather have that, and
Christ with it, than to have all his former
superfluities without Christ; and he said
that he was then the happiest man in
Loudon, although a short time before he
had been the most miserable.
The day before he completed his ninety
third year he became sick, aud was con
fined to bis bed. It soon become evident
that he was near his end: but he was
happy. He knew that Jesus was his
Baviour, and that absent from the body
he should be present with the Lord: and
in seven days he passed away.
Opposition of Romanism to Free
Schools. —On a recent trial in Ireland, a
priest testified that he had positive orders
from Archbishop Mac Hale to refuse all
the sacraments, even at the hour of death,
.to those who send their children to the
'free schools.
Out of the Shadow.
i
“Life is so beautiful,”—l said,
“In its uuwasted, early prime.
And yours is lust Its mot-ulug-time;
The dew of youth is on your head,
And all the gracious bounty shed
Over yonr eighteen girlish years,
Is In Its freshest fairness:—yet
Sweet daughter, I have traced no tears,
Nor caught one token of regret.
Nor seen a shadow cross your eye,—
Is it so easy, dear, to die?”
II
I always knew my darling’s face,
A rare and strange one—for Its grace
Os pure expression; but her brow
Had the saint’s aureole round It now.
111
“If life Is beautiful,”—she said,
■‘Where every thing its beauty mars,
What must it be beyond the stars,
Where all Us fostered powers are fed
Foreveimore, with angel’s bread?
And mother, as I waking lie
Looking athwart the midnight’s shade.
Into the blessed, boundless sky,
I cannot make myself afraid.
With Christ and heaven full in ray eye,
’Tls something very Hweet to die.”
IV.
Oh, childlike faith that did not mark
The reach ol Intervening dark—
Fearless, because He never errs,
Whose hand, she felt, was holding hers !
V.
“Still, life is beautiful,”—she said,
“Even while I take the medlcln’d cup
My God has mixed, aud drink It up—
Even while wttu soul disquieted
Through dally care and doubt aud dread,
Still, life is beautiful!—aud death,
—lt does not seem an angel bright,
Who comes to kiss away my breath,
And wake me up to endless light.
‘With Christ!' —1 sometimes sigh—yet will
The poor, dogged heart, sluk earth ward still!”
VC,
A holy radiance glowed upon
The lips that closed to meet my kiss:
Surely the glory that St. John
beheld in Fatmos, was like this!
VII.
‘ Still death Is beautiful,”—she said,
Avery angel la whose arms
I sink as safe from all alarms
As when, a frighten’d child I fled,
Aud sobbed my tears, and hid my head
Ou your warm bosom, Mother sweet.
My Lord hath broken His heart for me,
Lest ruiue should break ;—then Is it. meet,
Thai, when His messenger should bo
Sent on the errand full of balm,
‘Come be with me where I am’—
I, who for years have loved Him so.
Withlaaging,lingering step should go?”
VIII.
—Nor went she thus,—but as a bird
That Bees the cage’s open door,
Flutters, Its wings with gladness stirred,
Springs heavenward,—and Is seen no more.
Individunl Effort.
After we had embarked on a vessel to
cross Lake Michigan, and were just ready
to set sail, a young stranger came on board
and entered the cabin. The few other
passengers had already retired, and lie
seemed to suppose that he was alone, for
he took out a Bible, read a few moments
and then knelt iu prayer. He was evi
dently much engaged, hut when the oaths
of tiie captain and officers became very
audible, his earnestness greatly increased,
and, presently, lie seemed in such an ago
ny of spirit for these swearers that he
could scarcely suppress tils voice, while
pleading with God to have mercy ou
them.
Early in the morning I was awakened
by a loud voice iu the companionway,
calling out, “Here, whose tracts are
these?” followed by threats and impreca
tions. “Those tracts are mine,” respond
ed the young stranger calmly. “I have
but a few you see, but they are very good,
and you may have one if you wish.”
The sailor smiled and walked away, mak
ing no reply.
When seated at the breakfast-table the
young man addressed the captain, saying,
“Captain, as the Lord supplies all our
wants, if neither you nor the passengers
object, I would like to ask a blessing on
our repast.”
“If you please,” was the reply, with ap
parent good will. In a few minutes the
cook was on deck, and informed the sail
ors, whose mouths were at once filled
with curses. Tho captain apologized for
the profanity of the crew, saying that it
was common aud that they meant no
harm by it.
“With your leave. Captain,” said the
young man. “I think we can put an end
to it.” The captain was embarrassed and
hesitatingly replied, “I might as well sail
against a head-wind as to think of such a
thing.”
“But I meant I said,” replied the
young man.
“Well, If you think it possible you may
try it,” said the captain.
The young man soon found an opportu
nity to enter iuto convocation with the
oldest aud most profane of the sailors, and
drew from him a history of his adven
tures. At length, proud of his nautical
skill, the sailor boasted that he could do
anything that could be done by any sai
lor.
“I doubt it,” said the young man.
“I can !” was the reply, “and will not
be outdone, my word for it.”
“Well, when a sailor passes his word he
ought to be believed. I kuow a sailor
who resolved that be would stop swearing
and he did so.” “Ah,” said the sailor,
“you’ve anchored me ; I’m fast, but I can
do it.”
“I know you can,” said the young man,
“and I hope you will anchor all your ship
mates’ oaths with yours.”
Not a word of profaning was afterward
heard in tiie vessel. During the day, as
opportunity presented itself, lie conversed
singly with each sailor on the subject of
his soul’s salvation, aud gained the hearts
of all.
After supper he requested the privilege
worship in the cabin and all
the crew were assembled, He read Mat
thew’s accouutof Christ’s crucifixion amj
resurrection, and then looking around ou
us said, “He is risen ; yes, Jesus lives—
let us worship him.” It was a melting
seene. After prayer we went on deck.
All was peace aud solemnity We ceased
just as the setting sun was flinging upon
us his last cheering rays.
“Look yonder,” he exclaimed, “You
who have beeu nourished Id the storm
aud cradled in the tempest. Look at the
setting sun aud learn a lesson that will
make you happy when it shall set to rise
no more. As rose that sun this morning
to afford us light aud comfort, so has the
Bon of God arisen to secure salvation to
all who will accept and love him, and as
that suu withdraws his beams and we are
veiled in darkness for a season, so will the
Bun of Righteousness withdraw his offers
of mercy from all who continue to neg
lect them.. But remember, that season is
one that never ends—one dark perpetual
night.”
The captain, deeply affected, went into
the cabin, took his Bible, and read in it
until we had all retired to rest. Aud thus
for three days we regularly attended fami
ly worship, aud had much interesting
conversation on various subjects, for there
was nothing in the religion of the young
man to repress the cheerfulness of social
intercourse. From his familiarity with
the Bible, his readiness iu illustrating its
truths and presenting its motives, and
from his fearless, but judicious and perse
vering steps, we concluded that he was a
minister of the gospel. But a few hours
before we arrived in port, we ascertained
that he was a mechanic.
Before we reached the wharf the cap
tain came forward, and with much feel
ing bade him farewell, declaring that he
was resolved to live as he had lived, no
longer. “I have had," said he, “minis
ters as passengers on board my vessel, on
week days auil isabbaths, but never before
have I been reminded of the family altar,
where my departed parents kuelt.”
As we left the vessel, every countenance
showed that our friend had, by his decid
ed yet ihild Christian faithfulness, won
the gratitude of many and the esteem of
all.— Sabbath Day Miscellany.
Family Worship.
The life of Dr. Milne, by Philip, is full
of incidental remarks, striking and rich.
One of this character is the following ob
servation by Mrs. Milne, and its justice
will be apparent to any one who has beeu
careful to watch the developments of reii-'
gion in the dally walk of its professors.
“I cannot think favorably of the personal
piety of those who neglect family prayer,
nor augur much usefulness from those
who do not attend on it regularly, when
in their power.** Let the records of the
church be examined, or let each individ
ual recur to his own observation of the
lives of professing Christians, and a “cloud
of witnesses” will appear to attest the
correctness of this remark. Covenant
blessings are to be. expected only upon
compliance with tbe covenant. If parents
would see their families growing up
around them in the fear of tbe Lord; their
children early consecrating their hearts
to the Saviour, and preparing for usefuls
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR.
Whole Number 1771
ness in the world, they should bring them
morning and evening to the family altar,
and there devote them to him who has
promised to be a God to them and their
children after them. And Mrs. Milne,
with reason, doubted the piety of those
who neglected family prayer. She doubt
less thought that those who do not pray ia
the family, do not pray in the closet, and
if they do not pray there, even charity
that hopeth all things will scarcely trust
that they love God. Such reflections are
solemn, and when there is reason to fear
that the “cares’of the world” prevent so
many from this high and responsible duty,
the church should carefully examine into
the state of those families on whom the
prophet prayed God to pour out his fury,
because they called not on his name.
Religion and Old Age,
“YET THERE IS ROOM.”
“How dreary (said the late John Foster)
would old age be without the atonement 1”
But with it, old age may be cheerful and
a death-bed a happy one.
Two hundred years ago, the Rev. S.
Rutherford wrote to an aged nobleman in
Scotland, nearly as follows, and the aged
reader in the present day may reap good
to his soul by tiie faithful letter. Oh that
the Holy Spirit may be sought for to make
the reading of it a blessing! His influ
ence will not be asked in vain :
“I beseech you, sir, by the wounds of
tl>e Redeemer, by your appearance before
Him as .your Judge, and by tiie worth ot
your soul, lose no more time—run fast, for
it is late. You are now upon the very
borders of the other life ; the Lord has
given you much, and therefore he will re
quire much. Oh, for the Lord’s sake,
most houored sir, look narrowly to the
work ; for if you be upon sinking sand, a
blast, a storm of death will blow you off,
and there will be no foundation for your
poor soul.
“Read over your long life with the light
of God’s daylight. Surely it is good to
look to your compass, and all that you
have need of for your shipping for eter
nity ; for no wind can blow you back
again into time. Remember that when
your race and the voyage of life shall be
ended, that when you shall be in the out
most circle and border of time, and shall
put your feet within the reacli of eternity,
all the good things of this short night’s
scene will be as nothing. One mile from
God will be more for eternity than if you
had the charter of three worlds.
"Now, when you are drinking the dregs
of the cup of life, aud when old age, like
death’s long shadow, is casting a covering
upon you, surely it is uo fit time to count
upon this vain life, and to set your heart
and love upon it. Do then, seek ease and
rest for your soul in God, through Christ.
There is infinite justice, dear sir, with the
tarty with whom you have to do. It is
dis nature not to acquit tiie guilty : God
forgetteth not the Surety and the sinner ;
and every man must pay either in his own
persou (the Lord save you from that pay
ment) or in his Surety, Christ.
“Bless the Lord that there is such a
thing as the free grace of God, and a free
ransom given for sold souls—the precious
blood of Christ. But the man that is noc
born again can not enter into the kingdom
of God. I wish you an awakened soul;
and, oh, betake yourself to Christ without
delay.
“Haste, aged sinner, to the Lamb of
God, and seek salvation in His precious
blood. O dear, honored sir, lose not a mo
meut, for you have not one to spare. By
your past neglect of religion to the pres
ent moment, you have made your repent
ance the more difficult; yet if you now at
ouce implore the help of God’s Holy
Spirit in the name of the Lord Jesus, he
will grant your petition even now. It is
not too late for you. ‘Yet there is room.’ ”
Rules for Visitors and Travelers.
As many people at this time are on visits
from home the rules subjoined may be
found to be a word in season.
IF RESIDING IN THE COUNTRY.
1. Never neglect your accustomed pri
vate duties of readiug, meditation, self
examination, and prayer.
2. Never fail to attend some place of
worship on the Lord’s day, unless prevent
ed by such circumstances as you are sure
will excuse you in the eye of God.
3. Never entertain invited company on
the Lord's day, aud pay no visits, unless
to the sick and needy, as acts of benevo
lence.
4. Never engage in anything, either on
the Lord’s or any secular day, which will
compromise your Christiau consistency.
5. Beek to do good to the souls of your
family and all others within your reach.
6. Always remember that you are to
“ stand before the judgment seat of
Christ.”
[if traveling.
1. Never, on any plea whatever, travel
on the Lord’s day.
2. Make your arrangements to stop, If
possible, in some place where you can en
joy suitable religious privileges.
3. If at a public house or watering place
on the Lord’s day, do not mingle with
indiscriminate company; keep your own
room as much us possible, and be engaged
iu such a way as may make the day pro
fitable to your soul, aud honorable to your
God.
4. Every day find or make time for your
private duties of readiug, meditation, self
examination, and prayer.
5. Carry tracts aud good books with you
to read, distribute, or lend; according to
circumstances.
6. Beek opportunities to do good to the
souls of those iuto whose society you may
fail
7. Never, by deed or conversation, ap
pear to be ashamed of your religious pro
fession.
8. Remember you are to “stand before
the judgment seat of Christ.”
Let me entreat you to read these items
of advice over and over again, and recur
to them in every time of temptation!
They are the affectionate warning of one
who knows the danger of your situation,
and whose heart’s desire and prayer to
God is that you may maintain your Chris
tian integrity, honor God, live in obedi
ence toHis will, aud enjoy the peace which
can alone spring from a “conscience void
of offence,” "because the love of God is
shed abroad in the heart.”
God’s Word —Seeing a man reject the
inspiration of the Scripture, while he
maintained his belief iu Jesus Christ and
his redemption, I compared him to some
one who lias a costly perfume in a glass
vessel; lie breaks the vessel, thinking he
can at the same time preserve the per
fume, but he loses all. Bet aside the in
spiration of the Bcriptures aud all Chris
tian doctriue will disappear. This is not
a theory, I have seeu it to be a fact; there
fore the question is one of the greatest
importune. I am not ignorant of the
ditflculties that are raised, but the pleni
tude of the divinity to be found in the
Scriptures is too great to be in the least
prejudiced by them. I say from the
depth of my heart, “Thy word is truth.”
Not to believe that the Bible is God’s mes
sage is voluntarily to deprive one’s self of
all true, wholesome, wellfounded knowl
edge about God and our future state. It
is returning to darkness; it is to ruin our
prospects, and perhaps also the welfare of
many others with us.
Preached a Funeral —The minister
said that on a certain day he “preached »
funeral.” It was an incorrect statement.
A funeral, as defined by Webster, is : 1.
Burial; the ceremony of burying a dead
human body ; the solemnization of inter
ment; obsequies. 2. The procession of
persons attending the burial of the dead.
3. Burial; obsequies. When used as an
adjective : pertainiug to the burial of the
dead, as funeral rites, honors, or ceremo
nies. The minister did not preach a fur
neral; he could not accomplish such a
deed. He might have preached on a fu
neral occasion, or a funeral sermon. -Lit
tle inaccuracies may be corrected by giv
ing attention to them.— Nashville Advo
cate. _____
Length of Sermons.— The question is
asked, How loug ought a sermon to be?
Well, that depends on its thickness. We
have heard some sermons so thick through
with solid thought that the preacher
ought not to stop uuder two
have heard others so thin
preacher had ceased talking at
fifteen minutes, it would
proper proportions ; so well I "'<«■
indeed, that it- would not
ed otherwise than as a very^®