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VOL. XXXIII. NO. 6.
The Flower of a Day.
In every throng, she was the fairest—she
whose brown eyes spoke the warmth of her
heart, and the glow of her genial mind.
Those who cherished her tenderly had fos
tered nature’s lavish gifts ; so in time she
grew replete with the adornments of woman
hood. She was the bright star in her social
world—and the treasure above price in her
happy home—yet, even when dallying in the
spell of her witching voice and flashing eyes,
a feeling indescribable, but bordering on the
painful, stealthily found place in the mind.
All of this wealth of mind, of beauty—of
innate tender womanliness, seemed some
how to want substance, vitality, basis. Alas !
she was like him, who hundreds of years
ago stood before the pitying Saviour, rich
in worldly goods—and lcved, “for looking
on him, He loved him;” yet he “turned
away” —so pour despite his “great posses
sions. ”
While ceaseless vigil was kept, that thus
beautiful, accomplished and flattered the
cherished idol might become, did no human
eye pierce the veil and see the soul—wast
ing—wanting
All that earthly love could do was done,
and the casket was wondrously fair ! —The
human part of the work was more than re
quited; and satisfied loving ones put far
from thought, the pall of death, with its cof
fin and shroud, and dark, lonely grave.
lint as a thief in the night Death came,
and without one moment for a last prayer ;
ere those who loved her best could offer the
frail comfort of human affection in her dy
ing hour, the spirit had left its lovely taber
nacle of clay.
They wreathed the purest snowy flowers
around her marble brow, and robed her icy
form as a bride—the bride of Death, while
ho who had won her young heart, could of
fer no remonstrance to his mighty rival.
Pale, still, and beautiful, as some dream,
she seemed fit, like some sculpture of ex
quisite workmanship, to live forever; but
they bore her away, and now the soughing
winds and dripping rains blend their mourn
ful music around her new made grave.
Annie ! Annie ! could human love avail,
thy beaming eyes and winning smiles would
be the sunshine still of the weary hearts
that mourn thee. Yet, though “thick dark
ness” reigns to mortal visions, there is om
nipotent wisdom—.and love beyond our poor
affection in this desolation. Who can fath
om God’s mercy, - who can weigh His mo
lives ?
“Be ye also ready for in such an hour as
ye think not the son of man Cometh.”
Stitlwoml, Jan. 29 1 k, IS7O.
From the Nashville Christian Advocate.
Ail Educated .Ministry.—No. 4.
BY h. C. a Alt LAND, LL. D.
In our preceding numbers we have advoca
ted an educated ministry upon the ground,
that the training of the mind and previous
acquisition of knowledge are requisite to a
comprehensive study of the Holy Scrip
tures ; that, as preaching is a proclamation
of the truths of the Scriptures, successful
preaching is dependent in a large measure
upon tile extent anil aoou.xoy of the minis
ter's knowledge of the Bible ; that next to
knowledge, in point of importance, is a ca
pacity for communicating it to others; and
that this is materially affected by mental
culture ; that a mind properly trained, will
acquire knowledge rapidly—will systematize
its acquisitions—will arrange and treasure
up thoughts according to their natural and
logical relations, whereby they will mutually
suggest each other, and will come up readi
ly for utterance, as occasion may require ;
that by a proper education, the utterance
itself may be freed from everything that
offends a correct taste—from grammatical
errors—-from obscurity—from bombast—
from excessive ornament —-and from every
thing per judicial to the effective communi
cation of truth.
There are a great many collateral advan
tages which a minister would derive from
high intellectual culture and from an ex
tensive and varied store of knowledge.
Nothing gives more respectability to char
acter or more weight to opinion ; and these
are the principal grounds of influence. The
social position of such a minister would be
greatly elevated. He would find ready ac
cess into every circle of society, instructing
and entertaining all with whom he might
come in contact. His company would be
sought universally, and his influence would
ho felt throughout the community, affecting
and promoting every true interest of man
kind ; and if lie should carry with him and
exhibit at all times and in all places, as he
ought, the spirit of his Divine Master, there
would be no calculating the amount of good
he might accomplish out of the pulpit. But
the development of these collateral advan
tages would require a separate essay, and it
falls not into our plan to pursue this subject
now. So we leave it.
We have been considering the advantages
of education to a minister, in the direct
promulgation of the gospel—in the rapidity
and extent of his acquisitions—in the abund
ance of his materials and in the readiness
with which he uses them—in the force, sim
plicity, perspicuity, and propriety of his
language—in a perpetual growth of his pow
ers, and in a heightening of all the qualities
which go to make the successful minister.
Great advantages these ! and worthy of be
ing purchased at any price. Such a minis
ter will never wear out with any people ; he
will never be superannuated in mind, while
his body abides in strength. It is only by
diligent and systematic study that a minis
ter can grow in usefulness. Through men
tal indolence, he will inevitably sink iuto
uselessness. The pious Christmas Evans
said, at the close of a long and useful life,
when writing to a young minister : “I am
old, my dear boy, and you are just entering
the ministry. Let me now, and here, tell
you one thiug, and commend it to your at
tention and memory: all the ministers that
I have ever known who have fallen into dis
grace or iuto uselessness, have been idle men.
.... Remember this, stick to your book. lam
never much afraid of a young minister when
I know that he can, and does, fairly sit down
to his book. ” Mr. Wesley thus admonishes
one of his lazy preachers : “Your talent in
preaching does not increase ; it is the same
it was seven years ago ; it is lively, but not
deep ; there is no variety and no compass of
thought. Whether you like it or not, study
daily ; else you will be a trifler all your
days, and a petty, superficial preacher. Do
justice to your own soul. Give it time and
means to grow. Do not starve yourself any
longer. ” At the present day this advice is
needed more than it was at the time it was
given. The masses have more knowledge
now, than the select few had then. “Pious
commonplace” and driveling, even when
warm, and earnest, and honest, is sinking
to its true value. And what an illustration
have we in Mr, Wesley, of all tlie advantages
we claim from an educated ministry! If
hero-worship were lawful, how reverently at
his altar would we bow. With a mind strong
by nature, and highly cultivated by study,
and richly stored with all the treasures of
learning—with a heart glowing with the
love of both God and man—with a zeal
which knew no abatement, and with an
earnestness that no insensibility could re
sist, he gave himself up to the work of
“preaching the gospel to every creature.”
But read his sermons. What precision of
thought, what logical argumentation, what
perspicuity of style, what simplicity of ex
pression, what abnegation of display of
every kind ! “There is no flowery diction,
no gaudy metaphor, mixed up with fanciful
descriptions and pretty pictures ; there is
no taking of a text for a pretext, and then
running away from it among the things ac
tual and possible for material to fill up a
discourse. ” Though learned, you see no dis
play of it, beyond an occasional Latin quo
tation, wliioh was too muoh the fashion of
Sofllbetn ttfisfatt
that day, when it was the language of learn
ing, to appear pedantic. He seems to have
studied to suppress any outward demonstra
tion of learning. You see its results, bu t
the processes by which they were reached
are concealed. No minister ever hid him
self more completely behind the cross—
none who more persistently refused, when
speaking to perishing souls, to know any
thing but Jesus Christ and him crucified.
Thus it was by his piety, his learning, his
zeal, he accomplished a work, which made
for him a name, above all Grecian or Ho
man fame—a name which is the property
not of his followers alone, but of the whole
evangelical Church of God—a name, which,
with those of Paul and Luther, will live,
while the sun and moon endure.
But we can consume no more space with
the advantages of an educated ministry.
Let what we have imperfectly said in our
previous numbers on this head suffice, while
we proceed Ur show that such an education
as we have desiderated, and for such uses
and purposes as we have advocated, is what
the Church has sought to institute at every
period of its history.
Even under the Mosaic dispensation, the
prophets, who were preachers, and not the
priests, had their schools of instruction. At
Naioth there was one where Samuel dwelt.
There was another at Jericho; a third at
Bethel, to which Elijah and Elislra seem to
have resorted. After the captivity, during
which the pure Hebrew language was for
gotten, preachers had to be linguists, and
had to teach words as well as subjects ; and
so we find that from that period, to the
coming of Christ, preaching in synagogues
was universal, by a class of men, called
elders and doctors of the law, who were edu
cated and trained tor that purpose.
And in the days of our Saviour upon
earth, it was for the purpose of instructing
the twelve apostles into the mysteries of his
kingdom, and of preparing them for their
work as ministers of his gospel, that he ex
acted from them a constant attendance upon
his person, with the exception of a short ex
cursion or two which they made for a spe*-
cific purpose. How copious his instruction
was may be inferred from the declaration of
John, that if all the things Jesus did and
said had been written, “even the world it
self could not contain the book that should
Vie written.” To perfect this instruction,
and to furnish the apostles more completely
for thuir work, they were ordered not to en
ter upon it until they had received the mi
raculous gifts of the Holy Ghost. We know
not what better schooling men can desire
than this.
And after our Saviour’s ascension, the
men whom the upostles set apart for the
work of preaching the gospel, were com
mendable for their knowledge of the Scrip
tures. Paul’s injunction to Timothy, as his
representative in organizing the Church,
was to be careful to ordain men apt to teach.
This implies men both of knowledge and of
skill to impart.
“St. John erected a school of this kind
(for religious instruction) at Ephesus, and
ope of the same nature was founded by
Polycaip at Smyrna.” “St. Mark founded
one of great celebrity at Alexandria,” and
there were others ulso at Rome, Antioch,
Ctesuitw, Edessa and other places. (Mosli
eim’s Eco. His., vol. i., pp. 100, 101. N. \\
Ed. 1824.)
The sixth General Council at Constanti
no jile directed presbyters to establish schools
in all towns and villages.
Aud so ou down to- the present day, in
which all the principal denominations of
Christians have schools specially consecra
ted to the training of men for the ministry.
Mr. Wesley, hi 1739, established the Kings
wood school, and shortly after the Wood
lioiiso Grove school. These, to lie sure,
were not exclusively theological schools—
but (tol.ooin wkcre religious principles were
taught, and to which were sent young men
who aspired to the ministry,
Mr. Wesley did, however, propose at the
session of his first Conference, the establish
ment of a regular theological school, which
failed only r for the want of funds. And at
the present time tlie British Conference has
its theological schools, both for foreign
missionaries ami for home ministers ; aud
it is well known that their policy is to send
off to one of these schools, such candidates
for the ministry as have not received a suffi
ciently liberal education.
Nor lias tlie Methodist Episcopal Church
South, been indifferent to ibis important
matter. It has a system of theological edu
cation, differing, indeed, in most of its fea
tures, from that which prevails in other
Churches, and perhaps not on that account
the worse, but yet one, from which it hopes
to derive all the advantages of an educated
ministry. This is very encouraging ; for
the adoption of any system of ministerial
education, is an acknowledgement of its im
portance ; it is a committal of the Church
to this policy ; and it narrows the discussion
simply to the mode best calculated to accom
plish so desirable an eild.
The authorized means instituted by our
Church, consist, iua course of study for ap
plicants for admission on trial; another for
those who are continued on trial; another
for the candidates for deacon’s orders ; an
other for deacon 4 of one year ; another for
candidates for elder’s orders ; and according
to the statutes of the Church, the applicants
cannot be received, and tlie candidates can
not be elected to their appropriate orders,
unless they shall have studied and stood an
approved examination upon their respec
tive courses of study. Without raising any
issue just here relative to a modification of
these courses of study, either by diminution
or enlargement, or by a change of some of
its books —or by a transfer of some subjects
from one year to another ; but regarding ex
clusively the principles upon which the sys
tem is lmsed, it meets with our hearty con
currence, and we hope never to see it abol
ished. The principles it involves are these :
1. A minimum amount of mental training
and of acquisition, to be received into the
ministry at all.
2. The combination of theory and practice
—of study and preaching.
3. The stimulus to study, by an immediate
demand tor its fruits.
These principles, in our judgment, are
sound : and as to the first, while a minister
never can become as learned as he ought to
be, we have no objection to the min hnunres
tablished. We think it high enough, when
the question is the exclusion frorm the Lord's
vineyard, of him, who does not attain it. We
frankly admit, while we deplore the low stand
ard of ministerial education among us, that
any man who comes up fairly to the minimum
requirements of the Church, for admission
on trial, and for passage through its two or-
Jlers, may go forth, and with God’s blessing,
without which the wisest can do nothing,
prove himself a useful aud honored minis
ter of the Church.
But it must be admitted, that this system
of ministerial education, while it accom
plishes a great deal of good, does not en
tirely meet the expectation of the Church,
and does not fully meet the demands of the
age. Being sound in principle, this result
must be in consequence of some defect in
application ; of which we propose to treat
in our next.
Presence of CUrist.
A Christian should make his Saviour a
perpetual companion—everywhere, and on
every day of the week. Christ offers to
walk with him in every day’s journey of life.
What companionship so enlivening and so
purifying as lus ; who else can make our
hearts so burn within us by the way ?
Christ’s presence with believers is one of
the best v preventives from sin ; one of the
best stimulators to duty. Jesus is “made
unto us sanctification” as well as redemption.
That is—his is a spirit of holiness. And
w-hen we live in hourly communion with
Jesus, it has a tendency to make us holy.
The sense of Christ’s immediate presence is
a perpetual cheek upon our lusts—a perpet
ual spur to our self indolence. Are we pro
voked to cutting words or irritating retorts ?
One look from the gentle, all forgiving
Jesus, should be enough to seal the lip and
to smooth the ruffled brow. Are we ever
tempted to keen bargains and over reaching
in business ? Selfishness says, “All is fair—
others do it—it is the custom of our trade.”
But what will the pure and holy Jesus say ?
How will account books look to Him when
He audits them ? And so on, all through
the calendar of duties and the circle of daily
temptations. With our Saviour, beside me,
how will I dare to play the coward, or the
cheat, or the trifler, or the sensualist, or the
trickster ?
Nowhere will Christ’s presence be more
cheering and sustaining than in the weari
ness of a sick room, or under the silent
shadows of a great bereavement. “Christ
comes to me in the watches of the night,”
said the bed-ridden saint Halyburton : “He
draws aside the curtains and says : ‘lt is I;
be of good cheer ;be not afraid.’ Here I lie,
faint with pain; without strength, and
yet strong. And when the last farewells
have been spoken through the sobs of the
dying hour, this never-failing Friend will
sweetly whisper, ‘Fear not, lam with thee. ’
‘Where lam ye shall be also.’ ‘Having
loved my own, I will love them unto the
end.’ ” — Cuyler.
The Camp-Meeting.
From an old issue of “The Wesleyan Journal ,” of
Charleston, S. C.
There is a lovely vale, that isle-like, sleeps
Embosomed in the rough and craggy hills
Os Tennessee. Girt round as with a storm-
Tossed sea, by the mountains hour, precipitous
And wild, its verdant basin lies at rest,
And in the summer sunshine smiles, as 'twere
A soft and beauteous dimple on the harsh
And farrowed visage of the land: 'Twaseve,
The loveliest of the spring, and in that vale,
From their fair homes among Alie distant hills,
And desert solitudes, a mighty throng
Had gathered round to meet and worship God.
These were the gray-haired fathers of the laud,
And there in sober manhood’s hardiest prime,
Their forest sons. And their sons sons were there ;
Their young eyes glistening with the looks
Os awed aud wondering curiosity.
And there were mothers with their infant babes,
Delightful burden, slumbering in their arms;
And aged matrons, and the young and fair-
Haired maidens, with their eyes of light and looks,
That told the sweet day dreams of youth aud hope.
There were the young divines, severely plain
In dress, aud look of sanctity; and there
Old pilgrims of the Cross, w hose wandering feet,
For threescore years, had borne to cities full,
To the quiet village, aud to the few,
Who met and worship’d in the wilderness, ,
The Gospel's peaceful mission; who had preached
From the broad St. Lawrence, and his nursiug
lakes,
To streams that ripple in the Southern breeze ;
And still the burden of their theme, to laud
The power of Him, who died upon the Cross.
Such was the crowd, that from their dlstaut homes
Had met aud peopled that green solitude!
The shades of evening slowly gathered round,
And deepened into gloom, until at leugtii
The bright and cheerful tires were kHidted Up,
And they in many scattered groups were seen,
Some visiting around from tent to tent:
Bouie meeting in the midst, with interchange
Os friendly questionings, and w ords of Ipve,
And greetings apostolic. And there were those,
T hat walked apart, as though wrapt in deep
And solemn meditations. They
Perchance, dwelt on the coming rites, and girt
Them for the sanctuary’s services.
Meanwhile, the mouutains with their toweriug
peaks,
Stood lorth—their blackening masses pictured on
The sky, as from behind their summits rose
The full orb’d moon, and far o’er hills aud vales
Her pale and melancholy radiance cast,
Her slanting rays glanced through the opening
trees,
And here and there, at intervals, between
Their branches, some bright star was seen, as
’twere
A living spirit looking forth from its
Blue resting place. But the dim light of moon
And stars shone feebly thro’ the forest gloom,
N'of lighted up its sombre aisles, obscure
And dun, where thousand torches from
Its giant trunks suspended, shed around
Their fiery brilliance, and displayed its broad
And overhanging arches, and its huge
Alrd ivy wreathed columns, till it seemed
A glorious temple, w orthy of a God.
At length the hour of evening worship came;
And on their rustic seats, fresh cleft aud hewn
From the huge poplars, uud in many a range
Os circling rows disposed, in quiet sat,
The expectant multitude. O! ’twasascene!
The silent throng, thus listening there.
Midst the grand columns of that ancient wood,
Its dark green roof, the rows of whitening tents
That circled in the distance, and the clear
Aud sparkling waters of the mountain stream,
In torchlight gleaming, a.- it danced along ;
And more than all the wrestling leaves that caught
On their moist !*«>.», -..a
On every bough ; now iu their native green.
And now in burnished gold. The preacher rose :
He was an aged veteran of the Cross,
Whose thin grey locks had whiten’d in the snows
Os four score winters, and whose feeble sight,
No longer from their lettered tablets conned
The chosen text and answering song of praise,
But with a memory, quicken’d till it seemed
Almost an inspiration, and a voice
T hat age alene made tremulous, lie spoke,
A simple, well known hymn. And when he ceased,
From the deep tdlcuce of that lonely vale,
A mighty sound, the mingling vSicVs of
A thousand tongues, in one prond aathem rose;
And as it rose, far thro’ its hoary depths.
The forest shook, aud from the distant hills
Like the far rush of many waters deep
Long and reverberating echoes.came.
Loud burst the song, now swelling to tlie sky—-
Now eofteuihg down, and at each measured close,
Along the woodfr expiring; till at length
’Twas hushed into a stillnesS so intense,
That the half stgh of penitents alone.
Throughout that multitude was audible.
And then again that trembling voice w as heard,
In fervent accents, breathing forth the warm
And Heavenward aspirations of a soul.
Whose stragglings shook its weak old tenemeflt.
His words were simple, humble, solemn, deep—
Such as befit a prostrate sinner’s Ups,
When from the depths his earnest cries ascend
Up to the mercy seat. Yet words of power ;
As ’twere strong wrestlings, that would uot release
The covenant angel, till the jubilee
Os slaves enfranchised from the iron chains
Os sin and hell, announced the captive free.
And then he plead, that brighter scenes,
And glad millennial dajs of promise yet.
In this dark world, might dawn unoii his eye,
Age, truth and mercy fill the peopled earth
E’eu as the waters fill the pathless beds,
And then invoking audience for-a theme,
To which the bubbling tricks of eloquence
Os Greece and Rome, were children’s idle sports,
He rose, to lure hack wandering souls to God.
His burden was, “I tell you there is joy
lu Heaven, where one repentant sinner eomes
Home to his God.” The trembling orator
Warmed into power, applied the golaen key,
That opes the sacred font of joy and tears, *
His solemn painting Hashed upon the eye,
The hopeless realms, where dwells impenitence,
The tearless mansions of a happier world,
The Eternal sitting on his spotless throne
For judgment, and a universe arraigned
Fof doom, uuchanging as his trutli and power.
Deem not, I fondly dare the hopeless task
To paint the force of sacred eloquence;
Or trace the holy man thro’ all his theme.
Were all, like him, thus fearlessly to grasp
The pillars of the dark colossal towers
Os “the destroyer’s” kingdom, till it shook,
Ahappierera soon might dawn to earth.
E’en yet in bitter hours o’er memory comes
His picture of the wandering prodigal
With devious, comet course, receding still
From God and hope, to mercy’s utmost verge;
And then arrested by the unceasing power
Os the great Shepherd’s love, and by divine
Attraction turn’d, aud circling back’to God.
The choral anthems still methinks I hear
Symphoalons, swelling acclamations loud
From Heavenly hearts, to hail the waudere*- home.
There are to whom all this wonid only seem
The subject of the scorner’s idle mirth.
The cold and scanning critic’s sneer I felt,
Were out of place. But flitting visions pass’d,
Like lightning’s scorching, thro’ my wildcred brain,
And memory’s spectres sprang up from the past.
My earth-born schemes, my palaces of hope,
Lately so proud, all melted into air— '
Eternity, and truth, and God, alone remained.
’Twas as the Great Invisible had come
In power, o’ershadowing all the va e,
Emitting Sinai’s thunderings and fires.
Nor. was I alone; many a sin worn face
Was pale, and woman’s sympathetic tears,
And children’s flowed, and men, who thought no
shame
In tears. The proud ones, looking down in scorn,.
FFom fancied intellectual heights, whose hearts,
The world had sear’d; e’en these.,-unconscious
caught
The infectious weakness, like the rest, and though
They only “came to mock, remained to pray ”
Persia. —The latest missionary reports
from Persia are of a favorable character.
There appears to be an increasing spirit of
inquiry among the Mohammedans. On a
recent Sunday the Gospel was preached in
the morning to a company of Mussulman
women, and in the evening to several men.
They were much interested, and said: “If
our moollahs would only thus teach us, how
happy we should be!” The friendliness and
desire to hear, among the women, is very
remarkable. Among the Nestorians, also,
the good work goes forward. On a recent
Sunday, twenty-two were received to one
church, and nearly as many more remain as
candidat&s. In another village near by there
were ten, and in another eigriit, with several
candidates remaining in each.
Mormons.— A schismatic movement is
gaining ground among the Mormons, head
ed by Godbe and Harrison, who claim to
have received new salvation. They are al
lowed by the authorities in Utah to hold
meetings. The schism has taken a bold and
almost defiant position, and the principal
feature in it is hostility to the despotic rule
of Brigham Young. The schismatics de
nounce, too, the demoralizing influence of
polygamy as practised in Utah. Os course,
they have been read out of the Church, and
will be persecuted unrelentingly. It now
appears probable that internal -divisions
among the Mormons will greatly aid in the
overthrow of the whole system.
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & CO., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
MACON, GA., FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1870.
A Chapter
“from stray leaves from the portfolio of
A LOCAL PREACHER. BY REV. LUCIUS BEL
LINGER.”
The Black Swamp Camp-Meeting, where the Col
onel of the Beaufort Rangers surrendered his
Sword, and the Captain of the Gillisonville
Guard*left his Post.
Old Black Swamp camp-ground—lioly
place ! time-honored spot of earth ! never
can I forget tiiee. O! ye friends of mine,
who have gone to heaven from that once
happy neighborhood, and who are now safe
in glory, if you ever in your holy home above
remember brethren on earth, I hope you
sometimes think of me. Blessed spirit of
Brother Joseph Manor Lawton !—much
loved class-leader of old Union church—
hast thou, throned and crowned in heaven,
no thought of those friends still left on
earth—preachers aud others, who were al
ways made to feel at home under thy friend
ly roof ? Loved friend ! gone to a happier
Eden than man first lost, dost thou not often
think of those left behind—some of whom
even now at times imagine that they still
hear thy kind greeting ? Blessed spirit !
dost thou ever spread thy golden wings to
revisit thy fatherland here below ? If thou I
dost, I know thou art often hovering over
Black Swamp camp-ground, and the mucli
loved Union church. O! ye friends of
Christ and the church, who, in these troub
lous times, have your tents still pitched
within the bounds of Black Swamp circuit,
I hope you sometimes think of the preach
ers who used to sit with you in heavenly
places in Christ Jesus. I often think of you,
and hope vour faith is still firmly fixed on
the Bock of Ages, and that you will land
safely on the other side of Jordan when
life’s pilgrimage is over.
Come, let us now, in our imagination,
visit the old place, and record some scenes
connected with that well-remembered meet
ing.
The time for the meeting had come, and
the presiding elder—whole-souled Dr. Boyd
—with his staff’ had. arrived. The meeting
began well, and continued to increase in in
terest. The second evening had come, and
it was almost time for the sun to set, and
the camp fires would soon be brightly burn
ing —and perhaps the heavenly guard, which
had been around the camp all day, was to be
enlarged. The preachers, who were still
expected, came in due time, and their many
friends gathered around them—Major G.
among them ; and who, that lias ever felt
the grasp of his hand, can ever forget it ?
There, too, was Major R., with his smile of
friendly welcome ; and Brother E. M., with
his kindly greeting. But who is that, ap
prouehiug with qniek step, to shake hands
with Dr. W., aud him who now writes these
lines ?- It was the much-loved class-leader of
Union church—Brother J. M. L., the per
fect Christian aud the noble gentleman—who
came more fully up to old Horace’s descrip
tion of the 'facias homo ad unguent," than
the best Roman who ever crossed the Tiber
in those immortal days.
The meeting continued on with blessed
results ; and, O, what a happy time we had
from the Lord! The Holy Spirit came down,
and the friends of Jesus sung the sweet
songs I love so mtic.li—“There is a happy
land, far, far away;” “Our bondage here
will end by and by ;” “I would not live al
way;” and many others. The preachers
appeared to be full of the blessed Spirit:
Christians rejoiced; sinners were deeply
convicted ; and mourners were happily con
verted while the shouts of the exulting ser
vants of the Lord rang through the grand
old woods that border on the Savannah
River. I can never forget how much I en
joyed myself when Brother Bond English
was preaching about the heavenly gavJoner,
and ol Alary weeping over the yet undiscov
ered Jesus, and saying, “if you have carried
him away, O ! tell me where you have laid
him.” Brother E. went on, and the heavens
seemed to be coming nearer the earth ; and
many who listened and wept as they hung
ou his eloquence, will often remember those
moving words. “O ! toll me where you have
laid him ;” and many, who had with much
pleasure heard the preacher before, thought
that he was then preaching liis best sermon.
In tlie intervals of service, the time was
well spent in some of the tents—exhortation
followed prayer, and song followed song.
The holy feeling seemed to widen more
and still more. I wont into the woods with
others, to pray for the trembling mourners
who were still unconverted, unblessed. They
cried for mercy, and entreated their friends
not to leave them. When we got there,
Brother J. M. L., with-a heart full of love
and eyes full of tears, spoke to those weep
ing souls, begging them to go to Jesus just
as they were, with no hope, no trust, in any
other name; and then the woods rang with
the sweet songs of Zion; then Brother
Blunt prayed, and the Lord heard ; and
Colonel J. A. and his brother seemed full of
Jiajipv, holy thoughts.
But who is that now* coming up so gal
lantly to the help of the Lord against the
mighty ? Who that knew him well can ever
forget that war-worn veteran of a thousand
battle-fields—that sanctified knight of the
cross—a preacher “without reproach”—-
Brother McPhail. How he moved about,
speaking suitable words to all; and then he
prayed ; and first one and then another
were happily converted. And then the good
man clapped his trembling hands together,
passed through the throng, singing, and
with a voice that trembled too,
“O! brethren will you meet me,
In Canaan’s hap-py land?”
And then, Brothers Lawton, Martin, Da
vis, Solomons, Blunt, Allen, Roberts, and
others, all sung together,
“Yes, by the grace of God, we’U meet you,
In Canaan’s happy land.”
We then went to the stand where Dr. B.
was to preach, and the meeting still contin
ued to increase in interest,, for a prince of
Israel was now on the walls of Zion. The
large crowd appeared to be still more inter
ested as the preacher went on gathering
holy strength, and the mourners came up
more willingly than ever, even before the
singing commenced. Those who were
never there before came then, as if they
thought death and hell were close behind
them; prayer followed prayer, and song
succeeded song; and holy angels who were
hovering near, carried the blessed tidings
that the dead had arisen and the lost were
found.
Now, my friends, let me introduce you
to the young Colonel of the Beaufort Rang
ers, and the gallant Captain of the Gillison
ville Guards. See the Strange Preacher
seated by a gentleman, who appears very
glad to see him. They are conversing in a
low voice; now they draw closer together—
the preacher taking his friend by the hand,
and speaking with a serious face. See how
the gentleman hangs his head, appametly
listening, but for a while saying nothing.
That man is the Colonel; and his friend is
now telling him of the time when he was a
young man, not yet of age—of the time
when he joined the church and professed
religion; and how his sister, the sweet sing
er of the Barnwell circuit, and many others,
thought he would be a preacher in after life.
That young man, who was then on his way
to heaven, is now the Colonel of the Beau
fort Rangers, and is on his way to perdition.
He remembers full well those better days.
After a while, he recovers partly from liis
emotion, and raises his head, and says to his
friend, “Those, sir, were by far my hap
piest days ; for I felt that I was called to
preach when I first joined the church, but,
would not do so, and then I lost my relig
ion.” He then added, with a serious face,
“Prince Immanuel has many officers in his
■service ; and if I ever feel like enlisting
again, I would much prefer surrenderingmy
sword to you.” The preacher, replied, that
whenever the Colonel is ready to do so, he
will with much pleasure receive his sword,
in the name of Prince Immanuel.
And now, my friends, come with me to
another tent. Let us wait and listen. There
is a strong mind present, who leads in the
general conversation—to whom all are lis
tening with much interest. Would you not
know him again among a thousand ? He is
the Captain of the Gillisonville Guards.
But we are again summoned to the stand.
The Strange Preacher says to himself, “I
must pray in private for those two friends ;
for the Colonel has given me a hint. If I
am. called to the pulpit, I will try to paint a
picture for them which I hope they will not
| soon forget. The Colonel was once with us;
0, how I wish he would oeme back again !
And, O, that the Captain’s heart might be
reached ! If he were to come out on the
Lord’s side, a great victory would be won,
and the kingdom of darkness would trem
ble almost to its foundation. ”
The congregation at the stand was large.
The seats were all filled—carriages and bug
gies were rolled up and occupied—benches
aud chairs were brought from the tents—and
yet several remained standing. This was
the most important hour of the meeting.
Dr. Wightman was in the pulpit, and ex
pectation was very high. He had many
friends present, who had often heard him
with much pleasure, and their hopes were
now fully realized ; for, by the help of the
Lord, the great sermon of the meeting was
then preached. The interest which was at
first manifested grew deeper; but the great
battle had not yet been fought. Dr. W.
rose and soared in one eagle flight after an
other. By the help of the Lord, he bent
the far-famed bow of Ulysses, and shot all
the arrows through all the rings. But I
hasten on.
At the 3 o’clock service, the Strange
Preacher occupied the pulpit, and the
friends, by his request, were singing a song
he loved very much —hundreds were sing
ing—
“l’ve listed, and I mean to fight
Till the warfare is over."
The preacher told the congregation, near
the close of the sermon, that the meeting
would soon end, and that much depended
ou the results of the passing hour. He told
them, that perhaps the report of the great
battle then going on, had not yet reached
the court of the King of perdition; and he
attempted to paint the scene which was
soon to take place, when the news of what
was now going on should be known in hell’s
dark empire; and he begged them, for a
little while, to imagine themselves present
when the great Enemy of man first hears the
report of the Black Swamp meeting.
The gloomy King was represented as seat
ed on his fiery throne, with his chief
princes around him. The black plumes of
the vulture of despair waved over the Mon
arch’s brow, and his relentless guards were
about him. All the court was in full dress,
and the ambassadors from different parts of
the empire were present. It was a grand
public day in hell. All the great master
spirits, who drew their swords with him
when he first unfurled his flag of rebellion
in heaven, stood close aronud the archangel
fallen. The standing army of perdition
was seen in the distance, passing iu awful
review on one of the ever-burning plains of
damnation, before some great spirit, who
for the time represents the absent mon*
arcli. Suddenly, a loud knocking is heard
at the closed outer doors of the palace, and
there is a slight stir within. Someone
steps up and whispers to the Monarch. He
speaks out aloud, “No secrets here, when I
am ou my throne, and my court in toll dress
before me. Let the expected messengers
from distant lands enter one at a time, and
reportwhat news they bring.”
The outer doors are opened now, “and
their hinges grate harsh thunder. ” First
one comes, and then another, each in due
form saluting the King. The news gener
ally, if not pleasant, does not alarm him.
He nods, or smiles, or looks slightly seri
ous, or speaks to some of-the lords close by.
Oue after another they come—from Africa,
from Europe, from America, from the Isles
of the Sea—from all the world. One comes
at last, with signs of distant travel about
liiin. He Is just now from Burmah. He
says—-
“My lord king, every thing is going on
generally well there; except that the Bap
tists are gradually winning their way; aud
Dr. Judson is much respected, and may in
time render your Majesty much damage.”
Tbe Monarch replies, that he is aware of
that, and will strengthen those places. The
messengers still come, some with news so
pleasant,- that ho claps his hands, and says
—“that will do; lam very glad to hear it.
You may expect promotion soon.”
And now, one comes who has not been
seen there for a long time. He pays his re
spects to the throne, and seems to know
right well how lie will be welcomed. He
says—
“My lord king, good news from China.
Every tiling is going on there as well as you
could wish. There is no sign of danger.”
He is about to bow low now, and depart,
but adds—“My lord, one thing I had al
most forgotten. On my return, as I was
flying over the deep, I saw, far down below
me, a distant ship. Some strong impulse
drew me near the vessel. There was a
crowd on board. I found but, by some
talking I heard, that there were two preach
ers among them, from tlie Methodist Church,
South, on their way to China, to convert
tlie people. They were not in tlie best of
spirits. One of them said to the other,
‘You know, brother, the great difficulty will
.be to learn tlie language,’ ‘Yes,’ said tlie
other, ‘it will take almost a life-time to mas
ter it.’ I think, my lord, you need not fear
thosfTmeu for a while.”
“No,” says the king, “npt for a while ;
hut those preachers must be looked after.
You may expect promotion soon. Have
they not all come,” inquired the King.
“No, my lord; there is still one absent.”
“I wish he would hasten; for lam expect
ed to be present at the close of the review. ”
“He is come now,” is heard from the out
er courts; “He is come," is spoken still
nearer the throne. A spirit enters in haste.
He has no wish to change his dusty robes
for his full court dress. He enters, with sad
news full, with a face far more woe-begone
than that man’s who at dead of night drew
aside old Priam’s curtain, and told him,
more than half his Troy was burnt. He
bows not the knee; he pays no respects to
the throne; he does not kiss the Monarch’s
ample robe. “Arrest the traitor,” cries the
King; “hurl him into the lowest prison.”
The guards rush up. The messenger stands
unmoved, with sad news full. “Stop, my
lord king,” says he, “you have no truer
servant here than I am. ” The King signs
to the guards to pause.
The spirit says, “Excuse my abrupt en
trance, my unbent knee ; no time for court
ly respects now. I am just from Black
Swanili,camp-ground. I never flew so fast
on USy #rk wings before. Sad news, my
lord, from Black Swamp; and I, the unr,
happy messenger. ”
“What the Monarch, “from Black
Swamp, did you say ?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Why, I feared no repulse there. Come,
tell me all, at once ! But stop; first close all
the inner and the outer doors; let no one
leave the presence. Come, now; the news !”
“Well, my lord, as I was returning, on
rapid wing, from where I had first been
sent, I passed near the place, and heard the
sound of song and prayer, offered up to our
Dread Enemy. I paused, I turned aside, I
joined the crowd, and found much more
than usual interest manifested. Every ser
mon preached seemed to make an impres
sion on those who listened; while every now
and then, some of those whom I thought
true to you, were confessing their sins, and
begging for mercy from Prince Immanuel.
Dr. Boyd preached one of his best sermons;
the congregation was much excited; the
moumto rushed up in crowds. But the
great effort'was made by Dr. Wightman;
and yos know, my lord, he can preach, for
you haVe heard him.”
“Yes,” says the King, “the Doctor knows
how tnxireach; but go on.”
“Wflcu the Doctor finished,” said the
spirit, “I said to myself, ‘without help all is
lost.’ f heard your great friend, General
It., frtfm the other side of the Savannah
river, 'Sky to someone at his side, ‘let us go
to the attar, ’ and on they went.”
“That is strange news,” said the Mon
arch, as he shook his black plumes; “strange,
indeed. But I have not time for all. How
is it with the Colonel of the Beaufort Rang
ers, and the Captain of the Gillisonville
Guards ? I know they are still true to me. ”
“Ah, my lord ! the worst is yet to be told.
I have not seen the Colonel so much affect
ed for years. lam afraid he is lost to you. ”
“What of the Captain ? I know it is all
right With him.”
“My lord, the Captain was still at his
post; out he was bleeding from more than
a score of wounds. He had lost his battle
axe; h# was fighting bare-headed; his keen
Damascus sword was broken at the hilt; he
had shot his last arrow; and he had nothing
but his long lance left—he leaned against
it, only for a moment, to breathe, and said
to me, ‘help, at onoe, or all is \ost. Tell
your king, without instant help, all is
ruined.’ ”
The Monarch springs from his throne,
shaking desperately liis black plumes. He
draws his sword, he throws away his scab
bard. And now a cry is raised throughout
all the court, “Volunteers ! volunteers for
Black Swamp.”
“But one word more,” says the spirit.
“Stop, my lord king. As I was spread
ing my wings for flight, I heard that old
preacher, McPhail, whisper to Dr. 8., and
say, ‘lf you will order a general charge of
bayonets soon, you will sweep the field; you
know they cannot stand that. ’ And Dr. B.
said, ‘Yes, brother; and you shall lead the
charge, when the time comes.’ ”
The cry is now heard all over perdition’s
gloomy empire—“Volunteers ! volunteers
for Black Swamp !”
The preacher then told the congregation,
that the fallen spirits were then present on
the ground, determined on their ruin; but
that the hosts of the Lord were coming to
their help; that the glorious news had
reached heaven ; that the cry too was heard
all through the shining throng around the
throne above; that the glorious cry was
heard ou both sides of the river that makes
glad the city of the Lord—“ Volunteers 1
volunteers for Black Swamp !” He. told
them that the blessed angels were there,
with crowds of their departed friends—all
there for the help of the Lord against the
mighty. He told them, that the contend
ing hosts of heaven and hell were now
meeting in awful combat above and around
them. And now he cried out, “once more
to the charge, dear friends, once more.”
Then Dr. B. gave Brother McPhail the
sign, and the war-worn veteran passed
through the crowd, with the dust of a
thousand fields fought and won upon him,
singing at the top of his trembling voice, as
he clapped his hands together—
“I feel tlie work reviving, I feel the work reviv
iug,
Reviving in my soul.
O ! brethren, will you meet me, Iu Cannnn’s hap
py land?”
And hundreds of happy souls replied—
“By the grace of God, we’U meet yon, Iu Canaan’s
happy land.”
And now, the Captain could keep his post
no longer, though he has been strongly re
inforced by the legions of hell, and though
the stern, relentless guards of the pit fought
as they always did while under the eye o.f
their dread monarch. The Captain left his
post, upheld by his long lance, apparently
soon to fall from more wounds spiritually,
than those that took the life of Rome’s great
Ciesar. Among the mourners at the altar
was seen the famous Colonel of the Beau
fort Rangers. The Strange Preacher, more
than usually excited, rushed up, aud waiv
ing liis handkerchief, cried out aloud—
“ Colonel, I receive your sword, with much
pleasure, in the name of my Master, Prince
Immanuel.”
Now, farewell to Black Swamp camp
ground and the Union church ! If I see
them no more on earth, I hope to remem
ber them in the happy land, far, far away.
From the New York Observer.
Tlie New Testament Woman.
BY REV. .T. GUERNSEY.
In the home, all that belongs to it, she
recognizes woman’s appointed place, her
largest power, her sweetest attraction*, her
noblest virtues, and her liest possibilities of
Christian and womanly development. She
is not so far “advanced” in her thinking as
not to believe that it is well “that every
man have his own wife, and every woman
her own husband.” She does not claim a
juster appreciation of woman’s place in the
economy of life, or a higher and truer in
spiration, than were his who said—“l will
that the younger women marry, bear chil
dren, guide the house, give none occasion
to the adversary to speak reproachfully. ”
She is not, therefore, of those who speak
slightingly of marriage as offering a position
of degrading dependence, or of the care of
children and the duties of the household an
too insignificant, and having too much of
drudgery in thorn to be worthy of their
powers. Slie has igore than a sttspieion
that a woman who fills the place of a true
and loving wife and mother, and is the wor
thy mistress of a Christian home, is qnite as
likely to lead a life fruitful in blessed and
useful ministries, aud to receive from lier
Lord the plaudit, “Well done, good' and
faithful servant,” as the female orator, or
lawyer, or politician, or any thing else, who
grows rough in voice, brazen in face, and
coarse iu feeling and manner, through a
strtiggle as hopeless as it is unnatural, for
what she calls her right to stand side by
side with man iu the work and battle of
life.
There is so much of joy and contentment,
high responsibility, and grand opportunity
in the home sphere, as the New Testament
woman apprehends it, that its comparative
seclusion is no hardship to her. The in
junction that' women be “discreet, chaste,
keepers at home, good, obedient to their
own husbands” is accepted, not as the mean,
miserable utterance of a crusty bachelor
who had no just appreciation of the woman
ly nature, but as an utterace of divine wis
dom. She knows too well, moreover, that
home is the hiding place of her power for
the preservation of all rights, ajjd the attain
ment of all privileges and blessings in the
gift of men, to look elsewhere for them.
Accepting home, with its relationships,
duties, privileges, and responsibilities, as
the-sphere of her activities and ministries,
she spontaneously and joyfully recognizes
her husband as the head of the household.
Neither her reason nor her heart rebels
against the declaration that “the man is not
of the woman, but the woman of the man;
neither was the man created for the woman,
but the woman for the man.” She can even
read the command, “Wives, submit your
selves to your own husbands as unto the
Lord; for, the husband is the head of the
wife, even as Christ is the head of the
Church; therefore, as the Church is subject
unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own
husbands in everything,” without getting
out of patience with the Lord for putting
it- in the Bible, or forgetting that it is
given by inspiration of God, and crediting
it to Paul’s manner of life and consequent
lack of sympathy with womanhood.
The New Testament woman is not to be
found in the ranks of the “female suffrage”
agitators, unless it be possibly by mistake
now and then, through failure to apprehend
the real significance of the movement. It
is a movement in the face and eyes at once
of the law of nature and of God. As such,
she stands aloof from it as at enmity with
the best interests of both man and woman,
content, and more than content, to be rep
resented in matters of Government by hus
band and father, lover, brother and son,
and to exert through them an influence
mightier than any that the ballot can ever
give her.
She does not regard her subjection to her
husband as implying any element of servil
ity or degradation in her position. No
chain of slavery galls her. She finds.noth
ing in her recognized relation to the lord of
her heart and life, inconsistent with all true
womanly dignity, privilege and honor. If
Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him “lord,”
and it is recorded to her praise, she cannot
understand how it can be unworthy of the
best and strongest womanhood to imitate
the example, especially since an Apostle hath
enjoined it.
From the same authority that say* “the
husband is the head of the wife,” she al«o
learns that “the woman is the glory of the
man,” and that “a man shall forsake father
and mother and cleave unto his wife, and
they two, shall be one flesh.” Thus his re
lation to her takes precedence over all other
relations, even t the tenderest and most sa
cred, and her life becomes so identified with
his, and his with hers, that they are essen
tially one. If she is to “submit herself
unto him,” he is to “love her as his own
body” and to dwell with her according to
knowledge, “giving honor unto her as unto
the weaker vessel, and as being heirs to
gether of the grace of life.” If she is to be
subject unto her own husband in every
thing, “even as the Church is subject unto
Christ,” he is to “love her even as Christ
also loved the Church, and gave Himself for
it.”
The New Testament woman is not of
those who call the proper headship of the
husband, tyranny, and the corresponding
subjeotion of the wife, slavery, and seek
emancipation and elevation in a persistent
loud-mouthed cry for equality. She knows
that sad for womanhood will be the day—
and if sad for womanhood, sad for man
hood, too —when equality takes the place of
unity in the chief relationship between man
and woman.
The New Testament woman is endowed
with the grace of modesty. She is not
among those who aspire to tlie pulpit, or
who have faced promiscuous crowds from
public platforms till they have lost the pow
er of blushing, and are as much at home in
bitter denunciation, harsh crimination, and
rough and ready repartee, as tlie partisan
politician aud stump orator. She has read
that “it is a shame for women to speak in
the church,” that is in the public Christian
assembly, arid neither having the disposition,
nor assuming the right to gainsay it, she
concludes that it is still more a shame for
women to speak in assemblies of a more
general and promiscuous character. She is
not, therefore, among the orators at politi
cal conventions, and lier name does not ap
pear in the list of lecturers before Library
Associations and Literary Societies. The
woman’s name that does appear there so of
ten, and that has come to sound hard and
unwomanly through its associations, is not
the name of the New Testament woman.
She is not of those who find their chief
purpose aud enjoyment in life, in the gay
frivolities of fashion and dress. She lias
learned from a source whose authority she
does not question, that “aged women”
should “be in the behavior as becometh
godliness and teachers of good things,”
and that “young women should be sober.”
While, therefore, she knows how to enjoy
the best pleasures of life, slie knows little
of ball rooms, and dances, and like places
and amusements. She has read “that wo
men should adorn themselves in modest ap
parel, with shamefacedness and sobriety,
not with braided hair” (especially other
peoples') “or gold, or pearls, or costly ar
ray, but which becometh women professing
godliness, with good works. ”
The New Testament woman is a faithful
and loving friend of, and efficient worker
for, Jesus. She cannot forget the honor
put upon her sex in that He was born of a
virgin, that the Church He has redeemed
unto Himself is likened to a bride, that
many of His most gracious and mightiest
miracles were performed at the call aud in
belie If of womanhood, that it was only to
a woman that He ever said while on earth,
“Thy sins are forgiven thee,” and only of a
woman’s act of devotion that He ever said,
“Wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached
in the whole world, there shall also this that
this woman hath done be told for a memo
rial of her.”
She remembers the womanly love mani
fested toward Him in the hospitalities of the
home at Bethany, and the Cross and the
Sepulchre, and longs to shew a love as ten
der and true. She reads of the “Samari
tans who believed on Him for the testimo
ny of the woman,” and testifying herself of
Christ ns slie has opportunity, slie often has
tlie joy of knowing that there are believing
souls through her testimony. She reads of
. Dorcas “who was toll of good works aud
alms-deeds which she did, ” and emulates her
deeds of beneficence and mercy, doing it as
unto the Lord. The story of the two mites
east into the treasury of tlie Lord maks her
content, if she cannot do great things for
Christ, to do the little things she can do,
not knowing but that which is least may
prove to be the greatest. She reads of
Lydia’s grateful hospitality to Paul, and
opening her own doors, gives a hearty wel
come to the servants of the Lord, and cheers
them in their work. Slie reads of the help
fulness of Pliebe in the work of the Apos
tles, of “Tryphena and Tiypliosa, who la
bored in the Lord,” and of “the beloved
Persis, who labored mutih in the Lord,” and
she is moved to all earnest and hopeful
Christian endeavor. Bo she maid, wife, or
widow, while she .recognizes the home as
the appropriate Hpliere of all truest and
most womanly life, tlie New Teslament wo
man never fails to find scope in it, and in
occupations consistent with its spirit and
the supremacy of its claims, for the highest
and noblest, because jnost Christian use of.
all her activities and powers.
From tin) Richmond Christian Advocate.
Reconstruction.
A great deal is said in these times about
reconstruction. Political reconstruction.
Civil reconstruction. These occupy the
minds of politicaus ; and fill a large space
in the columns of the secular press. We do
not write of State or Congressional recon
struction ; albeit we may take the liberty
of thinking there is great lack of sound pol
icy and very little civility in the plans pro
jected and the results achieved, thus far, in
the work of restoring the Union. There is
a more excellent way to the end sought than
any whose measures we have yet seen. God’s
plan of reconstructing our fallen race might
tie well studied in those times of evil and
strife. It is a glorious plan for reconcilia
tion and restoration : replete with sugges
tions : each eminent for wisdom and good
ness ; and the whole powerful for reuniting
the divided, re-establishing the alienated,
and superinducing forbearance, forgiveness
and love. These are the sources of concord
and the elements of strength. They give
permanence to peace and prosperity to
Union.
Reconstruction is the text. We transfer
the word, its relations and suggestions, from
its political and civil ideas and uses, to
Christian relations and personal duties.
The Church needs reconstruction. Not in
its organic principles, or spirituid agencies :
but in its aggressive powers and practical
operations. Its registers need revisiug. It
must “purge out of the old leaven.” It has
too many decaying and dead branches.
The pruning knife has been too little used.
The pure, spiritual life is too much obstruct
ed to produce much fruit; or briug the little
it yields to perfection. It needs reconstruc
tion on itsold first principles. Wehave drifted
away from the old doctrines of personal holi
ness. The old fires of love for Christ and
zeal for the salvation of souls, which once
burned so flnmingly on its altars, have gone
out; and the cold ashes of a formal profes
sion and “a name to live” while the heart is
dead, are all that is left of its life and love.
We do not measure up to the standard prin
ciples and statue-height of spiritual life. All
seek their own things, not the things of
Christ. Personal religion is too general,
too abstract, too indefinite. It is aimless
and lifeless. It has no self-denial, no heart
sorrows, no prayer-agonies, no soul-longings.
When we surrendered the class-meeting, we
gave up the habit of watchfulness, self-ex
amination, and prayer; the frequent con
templation of death, and the cheering hope
of heaven. These old habits have become
obsolete in faith and practice. “Ease in
Zion” is the characteristic and curse of mul
titudes in the Church. We have grown se
date, affect decorum, are dying of respecta
bility ; and, unless the Spirit breathe on us
and revive our hearts, will soon be as dead
in religion as the world is dead in sin. Then,
in the old times, the presence and “the
power of the Holy Ghost,” and the conver
sion of sinners stimulated and satisfied our
desire for excitement: Now, we seek “the
sensational” in great organs and grand
music, popular preachers, and large, fash
ionable congregations. Churches are esti
mated by the numbers attending them;
and ministers measured, not so much by in
tellectual power and spirituality, as by ca
pacity to draw and power to please. Spirit
ual edification is less sought than mental
gratification. Taste predominates: it su
persedes the fear of the Lord ; substitutes
both the hope and joy of salvation.
There are exceptions to these general state
ments. Here and there a handful—an humble
few, —“precious children of Zion, compara
ble to fine gold,’’but “esteemed as earthen
known and loved in heaven, more than on
earth. It is well that there is a remnant :
else the Church would stagnate. Ten right
eous Lots would have saved Sodom. “A
few names even in Sardis” held back the ven
geance and prolonged the call and the time
for repentance. These, with their prayers,
and faith, and love, preserve the vital en
ergy of the Church. The oil that keeps the
spiritual machine in motion is generated in
the faith and patience of these saints. If
there were more of them, we would witness
greater works of grace in the outpouring of
the Spirit, and wider, more regular, and
more glorious manifestations of the power
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR
WHOLE NUMBER 1789.
of God unto salvation than the Church of
these last days has yet seen. Christendom
would experience a Pentecost : and the
gospel would run and be glorified in all the
earth. These “souls under the altar” are
held down, aud spiritual power held back,
by the selfishness, covetousness, aud love of
the world, of the multitudes “who have a
name to live and yet are dead. ” Thus saith
the Lord : “Woe to them that are at ease in
Zion.” Who can estimate the weight of
this woe ? or measure the duration of “tlie
wide, reprobating wrath" that follows when,
and wherever it fall! Let Church sluggards
heed its warning voice.
The pulpit needs reconstruction. Not in per
sonal character, nor in soundness in the
faith, nor yet in sincerity of desire to do
good and glorify God, do we impeach the
pulpit or its occupants. We bring no accu
sation against brethren, well beloved in the
Lord. We only desire to bring them baolc
to the old themes, to rekindle the old, fiery
earnestness of preaching, to awaken the old
vim of word and spirit, born in the soul
when it was born of God, and baptized with
the blood of the Cross—the old eloquence of
tears and love that drew its inspiration aud
its power from “the fellowship of Christ’s
sufferings,” and poured forth a tide of sym
pathy that stirred the pulse of anew life in
the hearts of “the dead iu trespasses and
sins.” “There were giants in those days,
men of renown," mighty through God "in
saving souls. Their motive power was
sympathy with Christ and sincere love for
those for whom Christ died. The world
was a valley of death, filled with the dry
bones of the dead. It was their duty und
prerogative to evoke these dry bones into
life. This was their oalling of God. TLey
were conscious of a spiritual presence, and
of the presence of spiritual foroes, “as
workers together with God;” and they
preached with an unction of love and earn
estness —an afflatus of conviction that the
word of the gospel was tlie power of God
unto salvation, whenever and to whomsoever
it was preached. They were savers of souls :
sent to save : preachers of salvation. Saved
themselves, they strove to save others. They
preached for present results in salvation ;
sowers and reapers at the same time. They
believed in God—believed in the day* of
judgment—believed in Leaven—believed iu
bell—believed that Christ died for sinners—
believed in the forgiveness of sins through
repentance und faith in Christ. The love of
Christ constrained them to preach a pres
ent, a free, and full salvation to all and for
all. Were they wrong ? Let the results
testify. What multitudes heard the word
with joy, and believed it to the saving of
their souls ! We have the same gospel, yet
fresh and full in its provisions and prom
ises : the same motives to stimulate efforts
the same “terror of the Lord” as an ever
present and ultimate reason for persuading
sinners to repent, believe and be saved.
Why, then, is there so little fruit, in the
awakening and conversion of sinners ? The
trne view of the gospel—its object, its end,
its power, as a means of saving sinners,—
compels the conclusion that the true and
faithful preaching of the gospel of Cludst
produces conviction, and conviction pre
cedes conversion as the electric flash pre
cedes the thunder ; and that salvation is in
preaching as electricity is in the cloud. Bo
the Apostles preached : “The Lord working
with them, and confirming the word with
signs following. ” Why is it not so in these
times ? Let all who “Preach the Word”
think on these things.
■ " 9 4 » > *
Thanks be to God our Saviour, for his
words concerning us of the Gentile world,
that “many shall oome from the east and
fiismai, sad mhmU St* (town with Abraham.
Isaac, and Jaoob, in the kingdom of heav
en. " Ayo, sit down with them. That is th(B
way to liston to their grace-taught stories
from their fire-touched lips. Sit down with
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and if with
them, then also with-Adam and Eve, Abel,
Enoch, and Noah, and all the children of
God of eveiy age and dime. Will not that
be glorious ? What a world of wonder, new
and old, there will be to hear and tell!
What a clearing up of mysterious things!
What an unfolding of the riches of glory,
both of the wisdom and knowledge of God,
which have been hidden from all the gener
ations past and which now are past findiffg
out! What an unyielding of the fulness of
liis love which passeth knowledge! And
what a wealth of heart history, now un
known, will be opened up, to be known and
road of all!— Rev. W. E. Boardman.
Congressional Temperance. —The Con
gressional Temperance Society, met last
Sunday fortnight in the Metropolitan Meth
odist Church, Washington, and was attend
ed by a very large audience of ladies and
gentlemen. Senator Wilson, of Mass., pre
sided, and read a recommendation, of which
the following is an extract: “The Con
gressional Temperance Society suggest and
recommend to the ministers and to the
churches, to all temperauoe organizations,
and the luimaue, philanthropic aud patri
otic throughout the land, to hold simulta
neous meeting* in tlieir several towns, town
ships and city wards on the 22d of Febru
ary next, the birthday of Washington, aud
unite in the organization of union temper
auce societies, based ou the simple pledge
of total abstinence from all that intoxicates,
and to adopt practicable measures to have
such a pledge presented to every man, wo
man and child over 10 years of. age. Sev
eral Senators addressed the meeting. Sen
ator Wilson said it was proposed to 11014
meetings every two weeks during the session
of Gongreas, if churches could be procured
for that purpose.
Natural Sequence or the Immaculate
Conception. —Dr. Oswald, a Romish theo
logian, affirms, in his work, Muriology, (p.
177): “We maintain thecopreseuce of Mary
in the Euohorist ; this copresence is the
necessary consequence of our Marian theory,
and we have no reason to dread the conse
quences which flow from it.” At p. 179, he
repeats: “We believe that the presence of
Mary in the saored elements of the Eucha
rist is complete, and that she is to be found
perfectly consistent in them, both in body
and soul.” The Papists, not satisfied with
worshipping, now propose to eat the moth
er of Jesus.
God’s Method op Helping.— God did not
take up the throe Hebrews out of the fur
nace of fire, but he came down and walked
with them in it. He did not remove Dauiel
from the den of lions ; he sent his angels to
close the mouths of the beasts. He did not
in answer to the prayer of Paul, remove the
thorn in the flesh, but he gave him a suffi
ciency of grace to sustain him.
C alvarv is a little hill to the eye, but
it is the only spot on earth that touches
heaven. The Cross is foolishness to human
reason, and a stumbling-block to human
righteousness; but there only do mercy aud
truth meet together, and righteousness and
peace kiss) each other. Jesus Christ was a
man of low condition, and died a death of
shame on an accursed tree ; but there is sal
vation in no other.
“Sufficient unto the day is the evil there
of.” Christ hath spoken it. With such
words let us be content to resign the future
to His keeping who surveys the future, as
lie does the past and present at a glance ;
who shapes it as he pleases ; and who will
enable us to bear whatever his providence
shall see fit therein to order for us.
A white garment appears worse with
slight soiling than do colored garments much
soiled ; so a little fault in good men attract*
more attention than grave offences in bi>d
men.
A saying of old Dr. Fuller was quoted in
Dr. Marsh’s presence : “He that falls into
sin is a man: he that grieves at sin is a saint;
he that boasts of sin is a devil.”
Whoso causeth the righteons to go astray
in an evil way, he shall fall himself into his
own pit; but the upright shall have good
things in possession.
Religion need not, should uot, make me
gloomy. What says the Author of it to His
disciples ? “These things I say unto you,
that your joy may be full’
He that puts a Bible into the hauds of a
child gives him more than a kingdom, for
it gives him a key to the kingdom of heaven.
Jesus reigns and that is enough to fill a
universe with rapture.