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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^®