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THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.
TOL. XXXIII. NO. 12.
Contributions.
Intemperance as a Moral Evil.
That which is productive of so much per
sonal and social evil, cannot but be a great
moral evil also. We venture to assert that
no Christian who drinks drams as a beverage
can enjoy as much religion as he would if
he did not; and we base the assertion upon
the apostolic declaration, that “no man
liveth to himself.” Every man has more or
less influence over someone, and is respon
sible to society and to God, for the use he
makes of that influence. He is bound to
exert what influence he may have, for good,
and not for evil. God ogjjimands the Chris
tian to “abstain from all appearance of eviL”
We nSfist not even seem to do wrong if we
c m help it. Now, to obey God’s commands
is absolutely essential to the conscious en
joyment of his favor.
That there is, at least the appearance of
evil in dram drinking, will be generally con
ceded; and hence the Christian who sets
this doubtful example before his children
and neighbors, runs the fearful risk of so far
incurring the divine displeasure, as to bring
leanness ujion his soul. In fact, there are
too many woes pronounced in the word of
God against drunkards, to allo w Christians
to encourage drunkenness in others, by dram
drinking themselves, without incurring the
divine displeasure. It must be as mnck a
sin for one to drink himself as it is to give it
to his neighbor; and yet it is written “Woe
unto him that givjflh his neighbor drink.”
Hab. ii. 15. Consequently, woe unto that
Christian who sets the bad example of dram
drinking to others, as well as inflames his
own passions, with that element “that sets
on fire the whole course of nature, and sets
it on fire from hell.”
Observation proves that the large majority
of those men who join the Church and run
well for awhile, and who afterwards have to
be expelled from its fellowship, begin their
decline, and hasten their downfall by dram
drinking, resulting finally in drunkenness.
“No drunkard shall enter into the kingdom
of God,” This all will admit. But who is
a drunkard ? Exactly how much intoxicat
ing liquor must a person drink to be drunk,
in the Scripture sense of the term ? The rule
by which this question is generally decided
is, that no one is drunk who does not reel
and stagger. To produce this effect upon
the nerves of some persons, requires but
little alcholiol, while others can drink, in a
short time, large quantities of intoxicating
liquors without ever showing it in their
walk. The difference is found in the supe
rior nerfous impressibility of the one party
over the other. Therefore, the two may
drink the same quantity of whisky, for in
stance, and the one goes on without showing
its effects, while the nerves of the other are
unstrung, and he is unable “to navigate.”
The one is said to be drunk, and the other
not to bo. But is this strictly true ? And is
the one to goto hell and the other to escape,
when they both did precisely the same thing?
that is, drank tho same quantity of spiritu
ous liquors. VVoulii this he right ? Would
it be just ? All must answer, no.
We have, thou, misunderstood the Bible
meaning of tho word drunkard. It there
means a habitual drinker of strong drink. See
Psalms Ixix. 12. David says, “I was the
song of the drunkards. ” The margin reads,
{he drinkers of strong drink.” He, then, who
habitually drinks strong drink, so as to im
press his system with its influence, and thus
create an appetite for it, and continues to
feed and perpetuate this morbid desire by
daily dram drinking, is a drunkard, accord
ing to the Bible, and runs the fearful risk of
going to the drunkard’s hell.
But it may be asked, why is drunkenness
a sin, and in what does the sin of it consist ?
It does not eonsist in what the inebriate may
do or say, while in a stato of intoxication.
It is a sin independent of all its outward
manifestations. It is a sin.per se—in itself.
The sin is mainly found in this, as we ap
prehend, that it inflames the passions, blunts
the moral sensibilities, and brutalizes and sen
sualizes the wltole man, soul, body and spirit ;
and it is for this reason that, we believe,
God has said, that no drunkard shall enter
into the kingdom of God. Habitual dram
drinking has a direct tendency to produce
moral insensibility, and to sensualize the
whole man, by inflaming the animal pas
sions. Dram-drinking is, therefore, a fear
ful moral evil; and he who indulges in this
practice, must run the fearful risk of losing
Jiis immortal soul by disqualifying it for the
joys of heaven.
But it is contended, that God allowed the
use of “strong drink” to the patriarchs, and
that therefore it cannot he wrong to drink
it, as a beverage. This assertion wo must
deny. They had no authority fom God to
indulge in “strong drink.” We grant that
they wero allowed the use of pure wine—the
simple fermented juice of the grape—in
moderate quantities; but not strong diink.
God said to them, “Woe unto them that
rise up early to follow strong drink.” “Woe
unto him that giveth his neighbor (strong)
drink.” Here is the proof that they were
not allowed to use strong drink as a bever
age, and were forbidden to give it to others
“and make them drunken.”
But suppose we grant, for tho sake of ar
gument, that God did allow the use of strong
drink to the patriarchs, it would not. follow
that it would be right for us, wffio live un
der this Christian dispensation to drink it.
Many things were allowed among God’s an
cient people, which were afterwards taught
to be unlawful, by Christ and his apostles.
Polygamy—for instance—was practiced by
the patriarchs. This, perhaps lifio some
other tl«ngs, such as divorce for trivial
causes, was allowed as the Saviour said, to
the Jews “for the hardness of their hearts;”
growing out of their low' state of moral cul
ture, and development; “but from the be
ginning it was not so.” It will be granted
by all for whom we write, that the New
Testament condemns the practice of polyg
amy, and that none can practice it now,
and get to heaven. It is, therefore, clear
that the patriarchs were allowed to do some
things, without forfeiting their salvation,
which we in the full blaze of gospel light
dare not do without abandoning all hope of
eternal life. We must determine our duties
and privileges, not by a reference to patri
archal times, hut from “the higher law’” of
the New r Testament. It seems to be per
fectly clear to ns, that Timothy did not
even driuk wine—much less strong drink—as
a beverage. (See I Tim. v. 23.) And being
in very poor health tlie apostle prescribed
for him “a Utile wine for his stomach’s sake,
and his often infirmities.” Now it is evident
from this prescription, that Timothy was
not in the habit of wine bibbing ; other
wise the prescription was unnecessary, and
would not have been made. But he did not
practice wine drinking. But as it was the
custom of the country in which he lived to
drink wine daily, why did not Timothy
_fxmlheii flrtsfai ac&lf*
drink it also ? The most reasonable sup
position is, that his conscience forbad it.
For we can find no other sufficient reason
for his departure from this custom of his
> ountry. From Timothy’s case, we infer
that wine drinking as a beverage, was not
the habit of the apostles and early Chris
tians; for we are not at liberty to infer, that
ho was more conscientious and consistent
than his brethren. In the light of these
facts, can Christian men now drink wine
and strong drink, as a beverage, without
doing wrong ? D. J. M.
How Should a Regular Minister
Dress?
BY BEV. L. PIERCE, D. D.
It is to be noted that I do not use the term
clergyman, but the terms, regular minister.
I do this because my aim is itinerant Meth
odist ministers. There is among us what is,
in fitness of speech, a regular and an irreg
ular order of ministers—mind you, I do not
say of preachers, but of ministers—meaning
by the term ministers, such as are clothed
with ministerial functions,and can administer
the sacraments by right of ministerial ordi
nation. The irregular, are local ministers
having no pastoral charge, but may be used
as valuable helpers to the regular itinerant
pastors in our economy, in many ministerial
services. The regular ministers—as I de
nominate them—are those who, by profession
and by engagement, enter into an obligation
to devote their whole time to ministerial and
pastoral work. Tho question, therefore,
How should a regular minister dress? is in
tended to apply directly to this class, but
indirectly to tho other class also.
Onr starting point is II Cor. vi. 3. “ Giv
ing no offence in anything, that the ministry
be not blamed,” together with all that fol
lows in Paul’s list of particulars of the spe
cific line of life laid down to be observed by
the ministry—meaning especially ministers
in the regular work of the ministry. I em
phasize this term—regular work of the min
istry—because, so long as we recognize the
ministry not in the regular work, we must
also allow a style of dress among ministers
who are, by allowance, as much secular as
they are sacred, which in their secular time
may bo governed by business dress habits.
But even these, in my opinion, when they
lay aside their secular and put on their sacred
offices, ought to put on, according to the
usages of their Church, a ministerial dress.
I do not believe the Church ought to tolerate
in her pulpits and the holy ministrations,
any officiating minister, in any disorderly
and irregular dress. I believe so, because
such sense of propriety is inborn in enlight
ened minds—and I say “enlightened min
isters,” because it is not to be assumed
that minds unenlightened are as much en
titled to determine points of moral propriety
and fitness as minds enlightened are. For
if such an assumption could liavo any truth
in it, then it would follow that what we all
understand as mental enlightenment, is after
all a mero idea, and that, in point of fact,
one of these irregular ministers who pulled
oft' his coat to curry and saddle his horse
to go to church, as his secular habit, might,
if he felt so inclined, just as properly pall
off Ins coat to preach, as his sacred habit.
And yet such is this inborn sense of propriety
and fitness, that while the most enlightened
minds in the land would relish his pulling off
his coat to perforin his menial services, the
same order of minds would loathe him as a
minister if he would do the same to perform
his sacred services. And their loathing would
not he the result of smuggled dislike. It
would be spontaneous, which proves to me
that all these sensible emotions of disap
proval up to their culmination in utter dis
gust, are internal evidence that all tlieso in
born senses of propriety, fitness, agreement,
order and all things coming up under this
line of spontaneous dislikes, are the almost
endless ramifyings of the genuine moral
sense. Hence it is, that those ministers who
learn to commonize themselves in their min
isterial dress, just because it is natural to do
so, in their secular character, never acquire
any positive ministerial character, because, in
the way they work it, their positive charac
ter is their secular character, while their
ministerial character is only negative. Ido
not scruple to say two things. The first is
that a simple, uniform, ministerial style of
dress always worn when designedly en
gaged in ministerial work, whether in the
pulpit or at the altar, would work in the
minister himself a higher and holier sense
of his order and office than can ever be in
wrought in his ministry by the mere sense of
personal religion in tlioir absence. It is as ab
solutely necessary that God’s spiritual priest
hood should not officiate within his holy
sanctuary without sacerdotal dress now, as it
ever was. The priestly—with us, the min
isterial order and office—does not need now,
any merely priestly robes—because the sim
plicity of Christianity would be corrupted
by the recognition of outward gorgeousness
in ministerial robes and altar imagery in
place of profound spiritual worship. But if
any one should conclude, because worship is
spiritual, that order and office are ignored
as proprieties necessarily belonging to a di
vinely constituted as well as divinely insti
tuted ministry, I do not envy either his head
or his heart. It would minify, instead of
magnifying the ministers of Christ, if it
could be inferred from anything said in the
New Testament, that ministers of Christ are
at liberty to dress as they please that a sheer
spiritual conception ol religion is all their
Lord and Master looks to, that he approves
of their course of preaching as well with
coat offias on; that all revoltings at it in the
congregation are only nursed sensibilities
which are not entitled to any consideration
among type citizens. I say, just settle this
as the fashion and order of the ministers of
Christ, and they and all they represent at
once fall below the moral force of the con
ception of good breeding. And those re
volting sensibilities are moral instincts
planted within ns to distinguish ns from
those creatures whose instincts are purely
natural. They derive neither sympathetic
pleasure nor pain from the accidents of their
race. Whether filthy or clean, never dis
turbs the equanimity of their social inter
course. Being and presence is all. lam
sorry to see and to say that I meet with more
instances of tlxis animal level among would
be ministers than is pleasant to me—men
who dissociate their idea of a minister from
everything proper to the order and offices
appertaining thereunto, but the single idea
of being authorized to preach and to ad
minister the sacraments. In as far as any
sense of order or actual sense of ministerial
propriety in dress is concerned, they would
just as readily enter one of our best modeled
congregations with a sack coat on four in
ches too short to be decent anywhere but
behind a counter, as with a genteel black
frock coat, which ought now, by securing to
it suitable uniformity in length and neat
simplicity in style, to he adopted, as the
dress coat of every regular minister, all the
time, and of every irregular minister at all
times, when he lays by liis secular business
to resume his ministerial, sacred functions—
and the Church ought to discard him if he
refuses to do so.
It is remarkable that there is an instinc
tive law of taste in all enlightened countries
in reference to ministerial dress, that extends
as truly to color as it does to cut. And in
all cases where a sense of this kind is ele
mental in man, all contempt of it is con
temptible in the rude subjects of it. And
because it is so, it will be contemned. As
to color, there are but two that are agreeable
to the sight and taste of purely moral minds,
black and dark gray. If a minister pretend
ing to dress well were to dress in blue in
stead of black cloth, his taste would be
regarded abnormal, and as a perfect man,
there would be that much discount on him,
without which he would have done better
a3 a minister than he ever can do with it.
Suppose a minister should dress himself in
green, or red, or even white, and pertina
ciously persist in it against the general moral
instincts of mankind, could he do any com
mon good, even if this offensive singularity
was all the public has against him? No,
verily—and why? Just beoause he defies
the moral tastes of mankind on the fitness
of ministerial dress to ministerial order and
dignity. Giving no offence in anything,
that the ministry be not blamed, is no rule
of his thinking, or doing ; he assumes that
his taste is right and nobody else has any
right to demur. If he selfishly determines
it is nobody’s business but his- own what is
the color or cut of his coat, of course the
obligation to offend in nothing is ignored
by him, and by his persistent folly the min
istry as a class—of which he is a very self
willed member—is blamed. When ho has
reached a point where he says my dress is
nobody’s business but my own, he utterly,
forgets that no man liveth to himself, that
is, is allowed by divine right, to live to
himself; yet on all these men go. Offence
is singular as a word, but as a doctrine it is
fearfully plural. Christ said it is impossible
but that offences will come—but woe unto
him yirough whom they come.- They are
all hurtful. Offence in its full meaning is a
word of tremendous import, embracing in
its issues the undoing of tho offended. But
it evidently has a broad margin within which
a great number of lighter offences are com
mitted, all of them injurious because all of
them are offences—smaller stumbling blocks.
Now then, suppose a minister should say in
these offensive w r ays of his—his unseemly way
of dressing—“ if I could suppose these of
fensive ways of mine, in dressing as I please,
irrespective of the taste of others, as a mat
ter of propriety in me as a minister, would
cast any one down, I would yield; but if my
persisting in my own way and,wearing a
bob-tail sack instead of a black frock ooat —
now tho .ministerial dJks—without dissent
of taste, only chafes ana worries a few stick
lers for order and propriety,l will pursue my
own way”—l say, suppose a minister thus
doggedly deaf to the voice of wailing from
without at the want of propxiety in his dress,
still bolstering himself up with his selfish
plea—“my preferring a sack to a frock coat
even if it is immoderately short is no ona.V
business but mine”—could he be credited in
heaven or upon earth with any care for the
divine order, addressed to every one belong
ing to tho ministry—Give no offence in any
thing, that the ministry be not blamed ?
Surely not. It is already settled as you see
in his self-made programme—that unless he
sees that some silly, self-willed member is
going to make his way of dressing the reason
for quitting, falling away and going to per
dition, he is going to dress as he pleases.
“As for giving offence to taste, to love of or
der, to ministerial propriety, I care nothing
about the rules of society.” Well, then, so
ciety will care very sparingly for you as sor n
as it finds out you defy its demands of gentle
manly order. The way some ministers among
us dress themselves for social intercourse
with ladies, to say nothing of men, is simply
offensively disgusting. I say some—they
are a moiety—hut even one is one more than
God has allowed. You say—we men of or
der were tainted in our early days with me
thodical notions; there was aymiformness in
your dress and demeanor that announced
your order. All true. We did not common
ize ourselves and the people did not common
ize us. We were ministerial without and
within. So we must be again.
“ Onr Jewels.”
Years and years ago in our college-home
were three, pre-eminent for goodness,beauty,
and intellect. With a free will and cordial
affection, the choicest places were yielded
them in the young, happy hearts of pupils,
and in the more deliberate judgment of
teachers.
“Miss Emma,” “Little Anna” and our
“ queen ” Sallie —with what a magic spell
they wrought order and contentment amid
that bevy of young girls! Who could forget
the benign face of Miss Emma as she moved
amongst her schoolmates, with a tender word
to one, a smile of encouragement to another,
and a loving rebuke to the thoughtless, which
rarely passed unheeded. »
Like a spirit from another world was our
“ Little Anna,” with her beautiful face re
flecting a heart ns meek and guileless as a
child’s. It was hard to think one taint of
sin remained in her soul, as we watched her
pure, holy life, and felt the influence of her
meek spirit, as silently, gently, she went
about doing all her duties. The roughest
nature would grow subdued in her presence,
thus eloquently expressing the reverence all
yielded the fair young Christian.
Flashing like a star, was Sallie, the pride
of our hearts. Whether in wonder we
watched her in the school room,os she thread
ed with ease and delight the most intricate
and abstruse studies, whether under the
green trees, in frolicksome play, her rippling
peals of laughter awoke all to merriment, or
whether her sweet voice grew soft and low
as she spoke in tender accents of “the Lord
she loved,” Sallie was all the while our peer
less queen, and well fit indeed, we thought,
for the buds and blossoms we wreathed
around her brow on the first of May—and
the love more precious to her heart than
glittering display.
But school time was ended, and a wealth
of pure affection followed them from the old
college to the bright homes of their child
hood—visions of joyous years flowed in—
the lovely young Christians lived in a life
cloudless and beautiful.
“ Looking through the glass dimly ” hu
man hearts would have held them to the
earth—even to the time of old age. They
were so Jit to live—so coveted in a world
where they lingered as rare jewels in the
congregation of rough stones of humanity.
But One, with undimmed gaze, penetrated
the future of all lives, and chose unerringly
for His children.
With the same peaceful calm that marked
her daily life, our loved Miss Emma met the
death which brought life eternal to her pure
spirit.
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE * CO., FOB THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
MACON, GA.,''FRIDAY, MARCH 25, 1870.
Her grave was yet fresh when Sallie grew
faint and languid, and though the skilled
physician could probe no secret source whence
her malady arose, yet all knew by the pallid
face, wasting day by day, that the genius of
the old college, the joy of a widowdiflbiath
er’s heart,was dying. They tell of a'JH&gely
beautiful life lived in the dim rooflHp the
fading girl, and of glowing words, fraught
with deep wiscflEpi as if her spirit had al
ready caught some inspiration from the
heaven whither she was hastening. After
months of lingering sickness deatlßgently
released her from all pain.
A few brief ninths passed away and “ lit
tle Anna” was robed for the tomb. The
summons came suddenly, but it was sent from
her God and she was ready to go.
“She lived as lives a peaceful dove,
She died as blossoms die;
And now her spirit floats above,
A seraph in the sky.”
March 12, 1870. Angela.
From the Nashville Christian Advocate.
Farther South.
BY -IBS. JANE T. H. CKOSS.
It is said that human nature is apt to run
to extremes; and it seems so; for no sooner
have I been some time -at Nashville, and
been somewhat refreshingly “filled with the
company” of my friends, than I feel my
self impelled farther South.
The heavens look sullen on the occasion
of my departure, and even shed some mel
ancholy tears in which I could freely join.
But one learns to pass through the world
now, and “show no sign,” as if he were as
heartless as a steam-engine; so, sustained
by the sunshine of Bishop MeTyeire’s coun
tenance iu the omnibus, I brave the weath
er and drive to the depot. When the jjars
start it is toward the “gloaming,” and
though I peer eagerly through the moist
windows, everything looks dingy, like the
outside of a blacksmith's shop.
Soon the Procrustes came to spread the
bed, and having nothing better to do, I lay
down to unrest, and so we rushed forward,
rocking and rolling, slumbering and snoring,
waking and watching, starting and stopping,
until day-break, just in time to miss con
nection. Pressing back the murmurings,
and pumping up the gratitude that we were
not lying with a broken neck at the foot of
some embankment, or with mangled limbs
in some muddy stream, we disposed our
selves for the day, at the hotel in Chattanoo
ga—the very hotel, from which, a few years
ago, I had seen our gallant Southern men,
under Gen. Bragg, start for Kentucky.
Again I saw them. They all passed before
me, and filled the empty space of the dreary
town. I saw the marshaling troops, full of
life, and enthusiasm, and eagerness; I
looked up to oatcli the glance of Gen. Bragg
and Gen. Buckner, as they ascended the
stairs; I saw the lithe, erect form of Gen.
Brown ns he passed from the dining-room
across the passage ; I saw onr friends from
Tennessee and from Kentucky, glowing with
hope; I saw the prancing horses, and the
gay, graceful riders; I saw the clear, trium
phant glance of young Clay—alas, how lus
terless lies the eyo now, in the grave yard at
Atlanta,, and how are the gold and crimson
departed from our sky ! One could not
bear those thoughts, if our Lord and teach
er were not leading us through gloom to
glory; assure as we follow him, to glory! O,
if our people did but know in this their day,
the things that pertain to their peace! If
they would only leave all political tricks and
expediences, and looking with a manful hu
mility to God, learn with a dignified pa
tience the lesson he intends to teach us, and
l»l>ur ixl Hve work hooetfr before m, looking;
unto him who shall work out our salvation!
Let us build his houses of worship again,
and build them better than they were before;
let us give to his missionaries out of our
poverty more than wegave out of our wealth;
let us take care of his poor and his orphans;
let us work for the great God; let us live for
him more than we have ever worked or
ever lived for the little god, self, and happy
shall be the people that are “in such a case!”
No one can calculate what shall be the glo
ry of our destiny if we will only permit God
to fashion it for us.
This is only a “word of exhortation;”
now I will go on with my narrative. We
had several pleasant traveling companions,
so the day did not wear on so wearily as you
might suppose. At eight o’clock in the
evening, we left for Atlanta, where we ar
rived the next morning at four, or some
where near it. I awaited at the depot till
after day-break, then trying to strike the
hour between getting up and the breakfast,
I started for the residence of Dr. Boring.
I had an indefinite idea of the direction,
and by patient inquiry, and threading my
way along, I at last reached the goal. The
Doctor had been down the evening before,
looking for me at the depot, and at all the
hotels, so it was but fair that in the morn
ing I should look for him and his family. I
need not say how kind was the welcome I
received from him and his; no friend ever
received any other at his house. “The lib
eral deviseth liberal tilings,” and now the
Doctor’s heart is full of an orphan-house, an
orphan-house for our Church. He propo
ses that several Conferences shall join to
build such place of refuge for the fatherless
and motherless ones of our Communion; and
why not ? The Boman Catholic can build
orphan-houses for their orphans, the Epis
copalians can build them for theirs—and
yet we call ourselves “the pioneer Church.”
We have not gone before in this. Yes, we
started in front. The love of God gave
wings to Whitefield’s heart, that bore him
three thousand miles across the waters, to
build a house for the orphans. He did not
tire in his work. To and fro, this bird of
passage worked his way, and gathered
crumbs and grain from all the barn-yards of
England, to deposit upon our soil. Geor
gia was the spot selected for the house;
Georgia made the first effort in this direc
tion, and Georgia makes the second. The
Conference indorses Dr. Boring’s idea ; it
seconds his motion ; it has appointed him
agent. I saw a letter from one of its min
isters, saying that, though he was impov
erished by the war, he would give a thous
and dollars to the project; and rather than
it should fail he would give two thousand.
Are there not other hearts that will make a
response as noble ? Shall we plead our
poverty ? The Episcopalians do not out
number us; I presume their means are no
greater; yet they are building a very nice
looking orphan-house in Macon; is their
Church careful to make herself the mother
of the motherless, and has ours less interest
in her own children ? Is it less important
that we should save our little helpless ones
from wandering into bleak wilds and moun
tain-paths where they may be dashed to
pieces ? Will you say that Wliitefield’s or
phan-house was a failure ? It required bad
management, and fire and sword, to break
it down. Nor can it be considered altogeth
er a failure, for its memory stands, an ex
ample of a noble effort to urge us on to ac
tion.
The Swedenborgians, I think, teach that
in heaven all our pure and noble thoughts
become to ns realities; may this noble
thought of the Doctor’s become a reality to
him and to us, thus making our earth the
more like heaven !
In the evening the Bev. Mr. Godfrey
made the family circle of the Doctor still
more pleasant, and the next morning “We
parted as ships that meet on the billow,”
and a little after the noon, I found myself
in Macon, and, behind a pair of spectacles,
the friendliest pair of dark eyes were look
ing forth to greet me. There was no mis
taking them, nor the face that time had
touched but lightly. It could be none other
than our old friend, Dr. Myers, whom we
met, by the sea, so many years ago. In a
few minutes we were at his residence “on
the hill,” and once in that charmed circle,
it was hard to get out. I had allowed my
self one day for Macon. I remained four.
For noiseless Is the foot of time,
That only falls on flowers.
Here I met the Bev. Mr. Burke and Dr.
Key and his family, and Bev. Mr. Lester,
and a number of other pleasant people. Wo
spent one delightful evening at the Female
College, and it was cheering to see the house
filled with fine, healthy, orderly, lady-like
girls.
I ventured one day even to invade the
sanctnni of Dr. Myers, the office of the ed
itor. It was Just the same as in the olden
time. No rude alarms of war, no burniug,
nothing can jostle things out of their place
in that ofiice. The Doctor very kindly took
me over Mr. Burke’s printing establishment
and bookstore. It was astonishing to see
’Wfe impudence of the establishment, and
any thing that would dare to look so flour
ishing in the South ! in the State of Geor
gia ! Every thing neat as a pin, and the
machinery moving like a monster, reaching
forward its head, opening its mouth, catch
ing the paper between its jaws, and drag
down to its hidden dungeon. There
it uijß undergo some mysterious torture,
i° r BP thing, with a whiff from its strong
lungs, pushes the sheet up again, with
black stripes from head to foot; and a won
derful story the prisoner has to tell when it
conies to the light. I saw books here beau
tifully printed, beautifully bound. Every
thing looks cheerful, active, prosperous, and
the people about tho house seem to think
better to be busied in constructing than in
‘ ‘re-constructing. ”
After a sojourn of four days, I left for
Eatonton. It seemed a dream, when at
eleven o'clock at night I found myself at
the old depot, where so often, O so often,
we had. awaited with throbbing heart to hear
the ne'js from tho seat of war! How quiet
now! But amidst the quiet and the gloom I
hear the friendly voices of welcome from
Mr. Rosser Adams and his children. It
is like a ohorus of flutes. Surely every
thing grows more like a dream. And there
is little Willie Dennis, too, who has sat up
purposely, and come down to meet me.
And now I am sitting where I was five years
ago, six years ago, among the same kind
friends. Is the war really over, or shall we
hear to-morrow that “Lee has whipped ’em
again ?” No, the fever-pulse has gone
down, no restless waiting for the engine
whistle. The town has washed its face and
brushed up after the fight. A neat paling
incloses the “public square,” houses are re
modeled and freshly painted. Those that I
left young girt l ., -gf u now “the joyful moth
ers of hfc lies,” and the children have grown
out cjj themselves into beautiful and bloom
ing/fromen. Here and there, we miss thj|
greeting of some friend or
lies silent on tin- hill beyond the
some, whose hands and feet were
in ach of beneficence and mercy,
compel and to wait awhile
■May ii, !■ days of more
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Somebody’s Son, and The 188
Start. ""
BY BEV. THEODORE L. CUYLEB.
A runaway horse was one day seen dashing
through the streets of New Haven at a ter
rific rate, dragging a wagon that contained
a small lad, who was screaming with fright.
The wagon “brought up” against the side
walk with a fearful crash. A crowd hurried
to tho spot. One old lady, with her cap
strings flying, rushed out into the street,
although her daughter exclaimed, “Mother!
mother! don’t get into tlie crowd; you can’t
do him any good.” Seeing her agitation, a
lady who was passing by, kindly inquired,
“Is he your son?” “Oh ! no,” replied the
true-hearted matron, “ but he is somebody's
son!”
The good mother was all alive to render a
helping hand to save somebody’s boy who
was in danger of death; but we fear that
there is many a matron, and many a daughter
in this city, who, during the approaching
holiday festivities, will lend a baud to lead
somebody’s sons right toward destruction!
They are already planning a New Year’s en
tertainment; and in their sumptuous bill of
fare, will be included a liberal supply of
Champagne, Hot Punch, and Brandy. Good
friends! before you set forth these stimu
lating poisons, will you suffer a young man
of New York to make one more appeal on
behalf of his tempted brethren?
I. Your hospitality does not require intoxi
cating liquors on such occasions.
We honor the kindly spirit which, on the
birthday of the year, prepares a bounteous
entertainment. We honor the hospitality
which flings wide the doors to all who desire
to eome in and enjoy it. But the well fur
nished groceries and markets of this city
have an ample store of wholesome “creature
comforts,” without drawing on the liquor
cellars or the wine-vaults. There are many
drinks both palatable and proper that never
cause redness of eyes nor thickness of speech
or delirium of the brain. Under their influ
ence, young men do not reel on the side
walk, or mistake the doorplates of their
friends, or venture on impertinences toward
the ladies who offer them a hospitable greet
ing. Under their influence, nobody’s son is
carried home drunk—to shamo and rend a
parent’s heart. But the present unhappy
system of wine-giving and punch-brewing
on New- Fear’s day, produces many a sad
scene of excess and inebriation. Last year
we saw many a quiet mansion turned into a
drinking house. We saw young men enter
them with flushed faces, and tongues quite
too rapid for propriety. We saw a merchant’s
clerk whetting an evil apetite that has al
ready cost him a valuable situation. We
saw a lawyer, of brilliant promise, reel to
ward a home on one of the “Avenues,”
where a fair young wife and an aged mother
found but little rest through that long anx
ious night. He was somebody's son —aud
somebody’s husband too. Kind reader! you
have no moral right to endanger thus the
weal of others, and to rob other households
of their hopes and their happiness. “Woe
unto him who giveth his neighbor drink!”
11. Asa second reason against these liquor
usages, we would urge that many persons are
confirmed by them, in habits of intoxication.
At all times there are young men in this
city who are struggling against evil habits
partially formed. A contest is going on
within them, between conscience and appe
tite. They see their danger. They begin
to realize that, if they go much further,they
shall lose their self-control, they will jeop
ardize their situation—they will destroy their
prospects, and may ruin health, life and
their undying souls. These men enter your
dwellings on that day with a sore conflict
going on between their sense of right and
their appetite, united to a regard for fashion.
If no intoxicating'bowl is hold out to them,
they are comparatively safe. But one glass
may ruin them. On the summit of a hill in the
State of Oliio, is a court-house so singularly
situated that the rain-drops that fall on one
side of the roof descend into Lake Erie, aud
thence through the St. Lawrence into the
Atlantic sea. The drops on the other side
trickle down from rivulet to river until they
reach the Ohio and the Mississippi; and en
ter the ocean by the Gulf of Mexico. A
faint breath of wind determines the destiny
of these rain-drops for three thousand miles.
So, a single act determines sometimes a hu
man destiny for time, and for eternity. A
fashionable young man, partially reformed
from drinking habits, was once offered a
glass of wine by a thoughtless sister; and,in
yielding, he rekindled a thirst which oarried
him back into open drunkenness. The hand
that should have sustained him, laid him
low r .
111. But, parents! it is uot only somebody’s
son that is imperilled. Your’ own too are in
danger.
The darling who nestled in your own arms
may be the viotirn of the very glass you offer
to others. But let the mistress of a house
hold determiue that she will disconrago all
drinking usages by the summary banishment
of the decanter from her own table, and she
goes far toward saving her own children from
dissipation. A worthy clergyman of London
while walking the streets, saw a loaded dray
coming down rapidly toward a little school
girl who was slowly crossing the road. The
foremost horse was just upon her. Forget
ting self, (for it is a beautiful thought that
the better instincts of humanity act like
electricity,) he rushed into the street—caught
the child in his arms—bore her safely to the
sidewalk, and, as her bonnet fell aside, and
she looked up with a pale face to see her
deliverer, the good man looked down into the
face of his own little daughter ! In attempting
to save another’s child he saved his own.—
Banish the wine-cup from the social table,
and you may unwittingly preserve the sou
of your bosom from destruction.
IV. Begin the year witu a Right Start!
“At the commencement of our journey,”
wrote the late noble philanthropist Amos
Lawrence of Boston, “remember that the
difference between starting just right or—a
little wrong— will end in the difference between
finding yourself in a good position or in a
miserable bog. Os all the clerks educated
with me in tho stores of Groton, Mass., no
one but myself—to my knowledge—escaped
the bog; and my escape was owing to my
totahsjislinenoe. We five clerks in the store
used to compound an intoxicating drink of
rum and raisins every forenoon at a certain
hour. It was very palatable, and I began
haulier for it. Thinking that my habit
give me trouble, if allowed to grow
1 ib-dined (without an apology)
my companions. My first
alistain for a week t
for the five
God ‘
asleep, and had the following strungeTlream:
I was goiug aloue and on foot on a long
journey. While traveling along I passed
through a grove where there were trees
loaded with fruit, which appeared to bo ripe
and tempting. Others, for the most part
young people, were engaged iu gathering
and eating, and were promenading through
the grove, and seemed to bo gay and happy;
but to me it was forbidden fruit. An invis
ible monitor required that I should neither
stop nor taste, but go straight yu. Thus
warned, I moved along, feeling sad and de
pressed as the evening shades began to gath
er around mo, and I broke out into the
song—
Watchman, tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are.
This I sang accurately and audibly, so loud,
indeed, that I awoke from my sleep, and
found that my singing had aroused others
of my family.
Soon, however, I.relapsed into slumber,
aud, strange to say, resumed my dream and
my journey. Suddenly, in the course of my
wanderings, I found myself standing upon
a very narrow and infirm piece of timber,
while all around me was a great expanse of
water, deep and unfathomable. My po
sition was critical and alarming. All at
once, like an apparition, an eloquent minis
ter of the gospel, who is also my dear friend,
appeared at my side, and shouted in my ear,
“Why don’t you put your feet upon the
Rock ?” On looking around I saw very
near me, even within a step, a broad rock,
rising from tho bottom of the sea, firm and
steadfast. Upon it I immediately stepped.
Then I discovered that the sea was a nar
row sea; and that, by keeping on the rock,
I could soon cross it. I could see the groan
hills rising on tho other side, and a white
narrow path winding and rising among
them. * Toward these I pressed my way and
again broke forth into singing; and this
was the song that I sung while my eye was
fixed upon the shining path—
Tins is tlie road I long have sought,
And mourned because I found it not,
The way tho holy prophets went,
The road that leads from banishment.
Alas, for my happy state of mind ! I awoke
and found it was all a dream; but the im
pression made upon my mind was very
great. When engaged in business, when
walking about, ever and anon the voice of
the preacher rung upon my ear, ‘ ‘Why don’t
you place your feet upou the Rock ?” It
startles me now. I ask myself the question,
Can it be possible that lam not on the
Rock ? O, can it be that lam standing up
on a narrow and unsubstantial foundation,
while the deep sea is all around'me ? And
is the Rock so near that one step will bring
me safely on it ?
My Christian brother, how is it with you?
Are you sure that you are standing on the
Rock? Poor fellow-sinner, how is it with
you? Let me echo the words of the elo
quent minister, and shout to you as he did
to me, “Why don’t, you put your feet upon
tho Rock ? Over Forty.
Feeding oil tlie Word.
What a lesson for some of us, here:
Not long ago there lived in a cottage, ten
miles from London, a poor woman, very
aged aud very lame. She received only two'
shillings a week from the parish, and she
earned one shilliug aud niuepeuce by her
own hard work, washing the pewter vessels
of her neighbor, a publican; so that three
shillings and ninepence made up the whole
of her weekly income. But out of this three
shillings and ninepence she allowed herself
one great treat. She made it a point in the
winter time, and it was only in tho winter
that she needed such an indulgence, to allow
herself regularly every other day to buy a
candle.
With this candle, when her day’s work
was done, she sat down to read the Bible.
She burned her candle for half an hour till
she read as much as she could well remem
ber, then put out the precious light, ahd
thought upon what she had read; nor was
this time lost, for while she thought in the
dark upon what she had read iu the light
her mind was filled with joy and peace. Then
after a little time she lighted her candle
again, and so went on till it could burn no
longer,
She thus gained great knowledge of the
Word of God. It would not have been easy
to find any one who was more “mighty in
the Scriptures,” seldom any one in whose
life the Bible could be more clearly read.
The Word of God dwelt in her; she took it
all for granted, just as if she had heard its
precious truths spoken in her ear by the
voice of the living God.
The Secret of a Successful Min
istry.
Look at Baxter, who stained his study
ivails with praying breath ; and after he
had received a rich anointing of the Holy
Gnost, sent a river of living water over Kid
derminster, and was the means of convert
ing hundreds. Luther and his coadjutors
were men of such mighty pleadings with
God that they broke the spell of ages and
laid nations subdued at the foot of tho cross.
John Knox grasped in his strong; arms of faith
all Scotland. His prayers terrified tyrants.
Whitefield, after much holy, faithful closet
pleading, went to the Devil’s fair, and took
moro than a thousand souls out of the paw
of the lion in one day. See a praying Wes
ley, a pleading Bramwell, Stoner, Smith and
Carvosso, each of whom led thousands to
Jesus; Anne Culler and Mrs. Fletcher, whose
breath was prayer, and who had souls in
every place. In 1820 and 1821, a few plain,
holy, praying Olirist.ians were instrumental
iu leading seventeen thousand souls from Sa
tan unto Christ. John Oxloby, with his one
talent, sighed, wept, fasted aud groaned,
and prayed for sinners for hours, pleading
the atonement, aud casting them on it by
faith’s strong arms, then entering the pul
pit and speaking words of flame, so that
hundreds were saved by his means.
****** * * *
You aro moving through time to eternity
iu tho midst of a vast juagg ol perishiug
aouls u They surround you on every side.
like Nohemiah, by night, and sur-
desolation of the city. See tho
and the dens of infamy, and the
and the many places of
? **.-■' -•.■tement. Count., if you call, the
victims. Death and dnm
to meet. them.
look at them - look at
them ? Then you see
hill going down to hell !
one anol lie r oil' the si ape
' ! 1,11 ' thousands of
all but the last step; so
RBBBHBBmit pluck them I lienee at
will lie Ill'll with all its
■BBBB|Hqmil. its blackin' « and dark
and wailing and gnashing
former, and fin rrr and
brother, all this is true !
,! " weapon whli-lt < mil
> n your hands, and go
lo save the people ?
i. (101 l In ;;»*
rea. ty hug.
m< I .1 ! a Iw uv- .
of bold, huh faith.
you i lon ml VIII'.: the
thing. It is so. The
pip ol (ill, lo
Til" sueci - which al-
IVI O' / Si'll, ll
I hi' deal ll of.l. a
" 1 r V'* arms of failll
I till ! I t 111 ill : ill" (To
V heaven with I \erla 1
its darkii,".a. tiiv ami
I'leail the shortness of
0| endless n’.-ruili/.
fully into their awful
iht you to ho a mere hap
r > ll n, but one who drinks
imp. Hut, mind and
- g.'orit if
mmmm plead ill 1 Ills way for hours,
learn the grand secret of
town and sending a wave of
• "'er the land. Christ says,
■BB^B> r " t h, out. ..r j,;.-,
<>J living iruL-e. Believe, then,
your district,, no matter what
in the way.
From the Observer nnd Commonwealth.
V l *' Circuit Judge’s Revival Meet-
B ing.
It would seem strange, indeed, for one of
Lour judges to conduct a revival meeting at
one of his courts —preaching, exhorting,
calling tho anxious and praying for mourn
ers. If any reader is not a believer in revi
val meetings, and does not think that ever
a judge presided over Bueh a service, let
him read the seventh chapter of First Sam
uel ; aud there he will find that in the Old
Testament times, there was a notable revival
conducted by a preacher called Samuel, who
was also a Judge iu Israel, and had a circuit.
I wonder if our Methodist brethren got
their ideas of circuit preaching aud revival
meetings, form the history of this one held
at Mizpeh ?—lf so, they have a far better
mode and much better authority for their
mode of work than many are willing to con
cede to them.
Some people have a great horror of revi
val meetings, and have no confidence in
them. Now, without quarrelling with peo
ple’s prejudices, or denying that some things
have occurred to beget prejudice against
such meetings, nevertheless they are not a
modem invention nor of recent date but
are as old, almost, as the Church of God
itself.
It is remarkable, how many points of re
semblance there are between Samuel’s revi
val meeting and many blessed scenes that
have been witnessed in modern days. Sam
uel preached an earnest, searching sermon
to God’s backsliding people, and exhorted
them to “return unto the Lord with all
their hearts,” “to put away their strange
gods” and to prepare their hearts unto the
Lord and to serve him only.” (See verse
third.) And, just so, have we heard many
a zealous man of God exhorting his lnke
warm people to “prepare their hearts” for
his service.
Aud Samuel called for mourners, too; for
the people “lamented after tho Lord.” He
also designated the place where they should
go to be prayed for. (See verse fifth.) It
is true, that Samuel did not call this place
for the mourners an “anxious seat,” or a
“mourner’s bench,” or an altar of prayer.
Yet, it was the thing, without the name; for
when tlie mourners were called, .they did
come confessing their sins against the Lord
and saying to Samuel: “Cease not to cry
unto the Lord our God for us, that He will
save us. ”
And, who has not witnessed in modern
times a repetition of this same scene, when
men were touched by tho Spirit of God, and
bewailing their sins, flocked to the place ap
pointed for prayer and said “pray for us ?”
Samuel’s prayer was heard and answered.
The people were sonverted from their sins
and saved—saved from their guilt and from
their Philistine oppressors!
Would that all our judges were such men
and such preachers as was Samuel 1 And
would that all our churches could enjoy
suoh a genuine revival of religion as the one
at Mizpeh.
Tl»e Wonderful Prayer.
Which ? Why, that one which your moth
er taught you. Did you ever think, short
though it be, how much there is in it ? Like
a diamond in the orown of a queen, it unites
a thousand sparkling gems in one.
It teaches all of us, everyone of us, to
look to God as our parent—“ Our Father.”
It prompts us to raise our thoughts and
desires above the earth—“ Who art In heav
en.”
It tells us we must reverence our heaven
ly Father—“ Hallowed be thy name.”
It breathes a missionary spirit—“ Thy
kingdom come.”
And a submissive, obedient spirit—“ Thy
will be done on earth as it is m heaven. ”
And a dependent, trusting spirit—“ Give
us this day our daily bread.”
And a forgiving spirit—“ Forgive us our
trespasses as we forgive those who trespass
against us.” |sp t .
And a cautious spirit—“ Deliver ns from
evil. ”
And last of all, an adoring spirit—“ For
thine is the kingdom, and the powet; add
the glory, for ever and ever, Amen.” -M %
Now is. it not both a wonderful and ft
beautiful prayer ? Jesus, our deal- Saviour,
taught it; and who could better tell us how
to pray to his Father and Our Father, to
his God and our God ?
Never speak without thought. .
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR
WHOLE NUMBER 1795.'
From the Obsorvcr and Commonwealth.
Iclitlieos.
The ancient Christians in times of perse
cution, were compelled to resort to various
modes of protection. Among them, not the
least important was the means by > which
they might recognize each other when per
sonally unacquainted. Asocioty, meeting in
secret, when a price was on the head of every
one, with active enemies abroad, and spies
everywhere, had need of vigilance and pre
caution to preserve fife. Moreover, they
wero hound to help each other, and a Chris
tian fleeing from persecution claimed and
received aid of his brethren. Yet, how were
impostors to be detected aud spies to bo pre
vented from learning the haunts and report -
ing the persons present in a Christian as
sembly.
One escaping for life could scarcely cany
with him credentials; lime was not alio well
tc obtain them and it was perilous to carry
them, both to those who gave and those who
bore them. Hence, in those twines of perse
cution, the Christian Church a strict
ly secret society, as much and m6re so, as
the Masons of our times. They had ways of
making themselves known to* eaoh otlier,
signs and passwords, by wkioh they recog
nized a brother, and by which he proved
himself. A mere profession of the Christian
faith was not enough; that might be feigned
for the purposes of deception, and might bo
a garment in which a spy clothed himself to
deceive the unwary and to betray his bene
faotors.
One of the most common symbols was ex
pressed by the word at tho head of this arti
cle, It is a Greek word, and means “A
Fish.” It was used thus: An unknown
stranger applies to one believed to be a
nil i \ ‘jinx 11 I'm that he is a Christian fleeing
■S/Utx persecution, and makes profession of
the Christian belief. He is examined and
found to be well informed in the truths of
our holy religion, and speaks as though
knowing well the chief Christians in the
place from which he professes to have oomo.
Still he may be an impostor or a spy. He is
asked if he has any further proof; and pro
duces the figure of a fish carved in metal,
wood or bone; or makes a drawing of a fish
and presents it. He is asked the meaning;
and replies, no matter what his native tongue
may be, by giving the Greek word, Ichtheos.
Yet this is not enough; he may know that
such a symbol was used among Christians,
and that their sacred books were written in
the Greek language, and, therefore, that the
symbol must bo know by its Greek name.
What does it signify ? This, that the first
two letters, the Greek letters /and Ch stand
for Jesus Christ, and that the last part is tho
Greek word (theos)Qod, The word, there
fore, means Jesus Christ, God.
This was a universal password and sign
among the earlv Christians all over the world;
nnd this symbol was used afterwards on
Church buildings, on the top of steeples,
etc., as a sigu of the Christian creed.
There is a God.
1. Something must have existed from eter
nity. Why ? Because, had there ever been
a time when there was absolutely nothing in
existence, there could be nothing in existence
now. To say that nonentity, or the absence
of all being, could give existence to some
thing, is absurd. But something does now
exist, aud hence something must have always
existed.
2. All things that now exist, or that ever
have, may be reduced to two — miml and
matter. Ransack creation, and you can find
nothing, think of nothing which may not he
classed under one or the other of these two.
If it be said that such things its motion,
noise, etc., are neither mind nor matter, the
answer is that they are simply effects caused
by mind or matter, or else states in which
they are-sometimes found. Now, sinco mind
and matter are in fact tho only exi-thie
things,it follows —seo prccodinlPHPSTs- that
one or both ol these are that “something
that must have existed from eternity.”
3. Matter cannot have existed from stern ity.
Why not ? Because, if it had, it would of
necessity he absolutely independent —not sub
ject to the control of either God or man.
No higher independence oan be conceived
than that which results from eternal exist ■
ence —the power to exist without any begin
ning, and, of course, without depending for
existence on any other being or thing; and had
matter and mind both existed from eternity,
both would have been absolutely independ
ent—matter wholly independent of and on
mind, nnd mind equally independent of and
on matter. Now, since matter is not indi -
pendent, but subject to the control of mind,
it has not and can not have existed from
eternity. Mind, therefore—being the only
existing thing besides matter—is that some
thing which has and which must have existed
from eternity.
4. An uncaused, ever-existing mind must
of necessity be, not only independent, but
changeless, all-seeing, and all powerful; in
short, an infinite Mind. The power to exist
uncaused, or without borrowing leave to ex
ist, necessarily involves the possession of
these other attributes. Now, what other
being than the great I AM, whoso “under
standing is infinite,” “the Most High God,”
“tho Almighty,” “the King eternal,” “with
whom is no variableness”—in short, the
very God of the Bible—must he this “Mind
winch has existed from eternity ?”— Rev. T.
WiUiston.
A Cheerful Home.
God requires a parent to make a cheerful at
tractive home. In the pressure of business
the tendency among us is to neglect home
life. Home is made dreary and repellant,
and the child finds his chief attraction
abroad. This is a fatal mistake. For when
the love of home has perished from the
heart of a child, then the first step is al
ready taken in a career of sin. Repelled
from home, he is driven to other associa
tions, and often seeks in the saloon, the
theatre, or tho haunt of vioe, that recreation
God meant him to have in his own mother’s
house. Many a son, who might have been
saved to a noble life, has been driven by a
cheerless home, to dissipation and ruin.
Now, Christian parent, God meant you
should make your house the most attractive
place on earth to your children. However
humble, it should still be cheerful, joyous.
Religion at home should not be eold, mo
rose, gloomy and repellant; but genial, joy
ous, —a perpetual joy beaming from tho
eye, lighting up tho oountenanee, and
thrilling in-the very tones of the voice.
Make your home sunshiny and happy. Tho
young heart is boiliug over with glee aud
frolic. God made it so; and you should
provide the means of innocent recreation.
Youth is the period of impression and imi
tation, when refined tastes, noble sympa
thies, and holy aspirations are most readily
developed. Provide, then, books, and pa
pers, and pictures, and flowers at home, —
every appliance to awaken and strengthen
all that is pure and noble in them. Let
your children feel that their father’s house
is the dearest, happiest spot on earth, aud
as they pass into life’s activities and respon
sibilities, let them remember the home of
their childhood, not by its bitter words and
hard drudgery, where they simply ate and
drank, and slept, but as the sunniest spot
in all the past, where their sweetest and
holiest affections gather.
Trust. —Two boys were conversing about
Elijah’s ascent in the chariot of fire. Said
one, “would you not be afraid to ride in
such a chariot ?” “No,” was the reply,
“not il God drove.” Might not many old
Christians learn a lesson of faith from the
above ?
Consider much this rich grace of God;
search the Scriptures, that you may see it
in all its fulness. Believe firmly n\l that
God says concerning it, and use heartily amV
gladly all its treasures for your soul’s salva- ■
tion.
The words of Jehovah are holy in liis pre
oepts, just in his laws, gracious m his prom
ises, significant in his institutions, true in
his narrations, and infallible in his predic
tions.
Christ is the voice of God without the
man; the Spirit is the voioe of God within
him.
Delays of mercy is not to be understood
as denials of prayer. At the end shall it
Slander kills three-fbldr— him that utters,
him that is attacked, andWin Inst hearkens