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VOL. XXXIII. NO. 13.
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Zion Weepeth.
In her chamber, dark and dreary—
In the silent hoars of night;
While the world, all cay and merry,
Dances la her mansions, bright;
Zion weepeth.
To the boeage, silent, quiet,
Turns she oft her weary feet—
Shunning tumults, noise and riot—
Seeks she out some rural seat;
There she weepeth.
Hides she from the world her sorrow;
For rmld the giddy pools
All that weep are viewed with horror:
All who mourn pronounced, the foolt.
3o she weepeth.
Where no voice is near to chide her,
Where no eye con see her grief;
Walls and trees will not deride her
While she seeks in tears relief,
While she weepeth.
What is it that moves her feeling;
Makes the trickling tears run down;
Why that anxious look, while kneeling
On the bare and rugged ground?
W l.y she weepeth ?
Fair her form, tho’ marred by mourning;
Bright her eye, tho’ sad with grief;
Grace her movements all adorning—
Why then finds she no relief
While she weepeth ?
Is it that her sons are lying
In the cold and silent tomb ?
And her loveliest daughters dying
Fading in their brightest bloom,
That she weepeth ?
Is It that her bread is failing.
And her wine hath been removed;
That we hear this mournful wailing
From a woman ottre beloved ?
Who now weepeth.
No! 'tie true brave sons liavegiven
Noble lives for her and home;
True, her breast has oft been riven
By rent ties of those who roam ;
Vet she weepeth.
Not for these, nor for the feeding
Os the children still her own ;
But because when mostly needing
Kelp that One can give alone;
Lo ! Ho sleepoth !
Dark the world is growing, fearful
Roars the sea on which she sails,
And with anxious eye, and tearful;
Hark! we hear her mournful wails!
“I.o! He sloopeth!’’
Who can rouse the sleeping Lion ?
Who can wake Him up again ?
Cease not, mourning, weeping Zion
’Tilt He comes, on earth to reign ;
’Till He risetb.
Soon, from out this swollen river,
God will roar for all tliy slain;
Shake the earth, Thou gracious Giver;
Oh! restore our lost again;
Oh redeem us!
C. M. C.
' Contributions.
The Cimreis ami its Orphans.
Melt nmy be moved solely by sympathy,
to favorably entertain appeals in behalf of
Orphanage. Helplessness in all its phases,
enlists the sympathy of most persons, and
when it comes in the form of childhood, it
seems to present a two-fold r.luim. But
this sympathy is but sympathy after all.
It may live a brief moment and be followed
by a reaction, under which, the heart that
opened at tho bidding of a generous, closes
under the fovco of an ungenerous, impulse.
The true rule in this as in all other matters,
is, to seek enduring results, by resting om
conduct on principle. If, after a careful
examination, we are fully convinced that a
given line of conduct is right, we are much
more apt to persovero in obedience to that
conviction, than if wo acted from mere sym
pathy. The man who starts thoughtlessly,
on a long and perilous journey, will he
more likely to turn back, t han he who has
estimated the perils, and made preparation
for the fatigue.
Are woof tho Church convinced, that
God absolutely imposes on ns the duty oi
caring for tho orphans of the Church, or,
are we, for the time being, taking counsel of
sympathy ? If the former, the Orphans'
Home will boa glorious success. If the
latter, after n spasmodic effort, it will fail,
and the last state will be worse than the
first. A conviction of duty, supported by
sympathy, gives the elements of hope.
Let us consider this important matter,
and have for the foundation, a rock. The
great purpose of Christianity is the salva
tion of the soul. To accomplish that, all
the lessons taught in the Bible are directed.
They amount to that and nothing else. One
means to be employed, and one that is un
mistakably taught from Genesis to Revela
tions, is the proper instruction and caro of
children. If there is any one thing, that is
proven by the observation of all, in every
age and country, it is, that, from the train
ing of the child proceeds the conduct of
the man. This duty, is primarily imposed
upon the parent, and for its proper dis
charge, the parent is accountable. But God
in his providence removes the parent, and
the child, to whose well-being this guidance
is essential, is left alone. What is to Ire done?
Who shall succeed the parent rn this by far
the most responsible of all offices ? Who
shall take the parent’s place and guide the
child in the way of virtue ? Shall it be
committed to the charity of the world ?
That begins at home, and too often ends
there. Is there any one upon whom the duty
is imposed of taking the place of the parent ?
We think there is.
It is not the purpose of God in removing
a parent, to give the child over to beggary
and crime. He calls the parent away, and
gives the child to His Church. Can the
Church universally prevail, if it acts only
on the man of crime ? If that be its plan,
it will never do its work. It should prevent
iniquity, as well as cure it. It is easier to
keep childhood from falling into sin, than
it is to lift manhood out of it. Can it be
that it is the duty of the Church to offer
salvation to a starving child, and let it die
of want, that it may enter the sooner on its
reward? If it is the prime object of the
Church to win souls to Christ, and if the
instruction and support of children are the
surest means of accomplishing that object,
then the Church must give tho instruction
and furnish the support, or it is a faithless
church. God gives us the hope of the resur
rection, but that is not all. He gives us
money, .and what a mockery it is to furnish
spiritual advice to tho poor forsaken child,
and leave it alone to die of w’ant. It is well
enough to advise honesty in the presence of
starvation, but I fear it is too severe a test
for a destitute, friendless child, and the
Church may bring guilt upon itself if it
forces the alternative of steal or die.
The plain truth is this. An orphan, the
child of a church member, should never be
permitted to feci for a moment, that it is
Christian
friendless. As the grave closes over the
fallen parent, the arms of tho Church should
be open, and the child should be received in
Christ’s name. Such policy would add in
calculably to the sum of human happiness;
it would lessen the sum of crime, and eauße
; the Churc-h to feel a healthful glow that it
! has never known.
In reference to our ministry, our practice
would do discredit to ordinary friendship.
We neglect childhood and age. We take
the services of a man in his prime, and when
we have worn him out, we cast him aside
as we would an old garment. In the two
helpless stages of life, we let him take care
of himself. In one stage, when ho is strong
and available, we require him to take care of
us. The itinerant feature has given to
Methodism its strength, its triumphs. Itin
erancy and poverty are inseparable. Out of
this feature from which come the power
and life of the entire system, there also
come the superannuated man, and, in turn,
the destitute child. How r can we be so un
grateful, so unkind, so sinful, as to reap the
reward of another’s labor, and whilst we en
joy it forget his offspring. I have an abid
ing conviction that the Church will never
know the full measure of its strength, until
it dfles up this home-work. Let it take care
of its own, then its own will love it, and
God will love, and bless them both.
J. L. H.
Atlanta, March 22</, 1870.
How Sboultl a Regular Minister
Dress!
BY BKV. It. FIEBCE, D. D.
Beloved brethren, I think the picture
drawn in the last scene of the last article will
satisfy cmr brethren that a minister that
dresses after the common fashion of a real
rowdy—although simply a good man—might
be more positively herded with rowdies, by
first class people—most of whom cannot
relish a minister that ignores in his dress, the
style of a gentleman, in places where a
gentleman never does it volnutarily. Many
of these violators of the laws of decorum
justify themselves on the ground, that the
people they serve make none of these dif
ferences, indeed, do not know whether their
minister is in order and in good ministerial
decorum or not. Well, my brother, if I un
derstand you, your principle of action is,
that you do not believe that there is any
difference in a good and cultivated taste, a
delicate sense of dressing or even sleeping,
in the higher classes in civilized life, over
that in the lower, more brutal and vulgar
style of living of men about half clothed in
their own homes, in tiio presenco of wife
and daughters and visiting friends. A man
at his table, in presence of these, in his
shirt-sleeves, sweating and fussing like an
Indian—killing off, and out of his sons and
daughters the sensibilities which, if culti
vated, loads to higher and more refined life—
that cattle breed of mankind, who all hud
dle and pile up at night in one common
room, just because the animal element in
them pushes out the finer sense of refined,
civilized and social life, at the head, and in
the front of which must be refined, orderly,
domestic life and society, I sny. ex
cuse (nv tu ~ of your style of dress
as a minister of Jesus Christ is, that the peo
ple that you serve are so low down and far
behind in their ideas of living, that they do
not know whether your dressing is in minis
terial order or disorder—nor do they care.
Alas ! my brother, in this pitiful excuse, you
are caught in one or tho other of two miser
able dilemmas. Either these low levels of
lift; are the ones congenial with your taste
and, therefore, you follow them—or else
you practically refuse and fail to seek tho
improvement of society, in the refinements
of life, by a noble example in yourself. Nay
more, you endorse by your adoption of it a
manner of dress, universally outlawed in
gootl society as vulgar, as a proof of low
breeding, as a want of refined sense—l mean
the voluntary adoption of a sack coat as
vtmr dross coat in ministerial intercourse
—a mongrel ranging between a jacket and a
coat, while really neither—utterly objec
tionable as a minister’s dress coat, even
when long enough to conceal, disgusting
when short enough to expose. The ques
tion whether every regular itinerant Metho
dist preacher should be a gentleman in good
society, will be affirmatively answered every
where, where good society is. I ask those
preachers who publicly and professionally
ignore and denounce the sense of gentle
manly order and decorum, what can be their
estimate of order and decorum ? Do they
intend to have it understood that there
should be no laws of order and decorum in
social life ? If so, low down as it lets them,
there is the semblance of consistency. But
to bo consistent with low bred ideas of so
cial life, is a downward movement in the
ministerial order. I have said “professional
ly ignore and denounce” these rales of gen
teel life. Ido not relax my hold. I affirm
and appeal to common sense for judgment,
that if a man professes to be a minister of
God, and a regular church recognises him
as such, I care not how incongruous his
dress may be with propriety, if he -were to
wear no coat, but go about in vest and shirt,
visiting aud preaching, that would be his
professional dress. He cannot get away
from his profession, so long as he uses it
professionally. We have regular ministers
now among us, indulging in these incon
gruous modes of dress, in their ministers!
rounds, who, if they have any sense of pi-o
priety, would not, if invited to a gentle
man’s house, where ladies were to be as
guests, go in a curtailed sack, knowing it
was deemed utterly rude and indecent. Yet
strange to tell, these preachers disregard
the higher, holier proprieties of God’s sanc
tuary, where not only the eyes of modest
women, but of angels, gaze on their minis
terial estimate of decorum.
My brethren beloved, allow me to say to
’•ou in all candor, that a minister of Jesus
Christ, who will allow himself to enter into
God’s holy places, in a dress outlawed by
the sense of good society, as too vulgar and
immodest to be worn in social intercourse,
is in some way essentially wrong. What ! a
minister of Jesus Christ dare to enter the
pulpit, preach, administer the holy sacra
ments, preside over church-meetings, per
form pastoral visits—always special occa
sions, if the pastor is in order—occasions
where a thoughtful minister, acting up
to the demands of ministerial decorum,
would know that every decorum would
be noted with surprise, if not with of
fence—and still further, visiting his sick,
and burying his dead, in a dress he would
not presume to appear in, as a bridegroom
or as an invited guest in any gentleman’s
parlor—and yet, by the miserable perver
sion of his taste, or by his utter insensibili
ty to the rales of propriety, or the still
greater fault of indifference to these inher
ent elements of order and propriety, he
rushes along, in reckless disregard of feel
ings and of views, which, under all the mu
tations of fashion, have never changed in
good society, to-wit: that a gentleman, who
knows he is going into society as a visiting
guest, will never dare do it in the same style
of dress in which he had performed his dai
ly, common life duties in.
There is a great mistake committed by
those ministers w-ho resolve their idea o f
ministerial life and character, into the one
idea of personal piety. For while this is the
most indispensable • qualification, it is not
the only one prescribed by divine authority.
And I lay it down as the only whole hearted
sense of Christian life and character to esteem
everything which God regarded of moral
importance enough to enjoin as a Christian
duty, as of too much importance to be ignored
by us. I say things enjoined as duties. God
has not merely advised the observance of
these rules of propriety. He has absolute
ly ordered the observance of them, and the
non-observance of anything divinely requir
ed is ungodliness. It loosens us off from God.
The order, that we give no offence in any
thing, covers all’the ground. ,If we can of
fend against any law of propriety by a rude,
unbecoming style of dress, which, while it
may be bearable in the* private, business
walks of life, is offensive in the public as
sociations of life ; 1 say if we can offend
against the proprieties of Jlife and the sensi
bilities of virtue, by any deficiency in dress,
we are required by divine injunction not to
do it. It is proper for me now to say, that
tliis unclerical manner of dress indulged in,
by some ministers in their holy vocation,
gives offence to me, and causes the ministry
to be blamed.
In 2d Cor. 4th ch. opening verses, we have
these sweeping words—“ Commending our
selves to every man’s conscience, in the
sight of God,” spoken primarily to, and of
apostolic ministers. In these words I find a
special law of behaviour laid down, which
exactly sustains my views in these promises.
Tho ride is to meet eveiy man's conscience
in the sight of God. In the sight of God
is the great issue. Now then, brethren, you
who violate the rale of decorum in dress,
as laid down in the regulating laws of good
society, do it, as you say, because the peo
ple you serve have no conscience on the
point in controversy. Admit it, while it is
yet uncertain—still tho requisition is upon
the basis of every man’s conscience in the
sight of God, and not upon thelaeeidental
consciences of the people in certain locali
ties.
These, you say, have no conscience upon
this point. If so, you only conform to their
ignorance of the relation of certain pro
prieties to moral law and order—and instead
of elevating them in their sense of the pro
prieties of higher life by your example, you
confirm them in their rude and vulgar no
tions. But the moral force of this rule is
found in this fact—that if a minister dresses
in true ministerial order among these peo
ple, he does not offend their consciences at
all, and his observance of ministerial order
and decorum commends him to the con
sciences of all. It is in this way we com
mend ourselves to every man’s conscience in
the sight of God. Proprffitios never give
oflftmee anywhere, but improprieties always
give offence somewhere. Ministers should
always keep within the lines prescribed. To
be gentlemen in the virtuous and courteous
sense of the terra, is their second greatest
duty. In this they offend no one; in tho
want of it, they offend all well-put-up peo
ple, and bring upon themselves when spo
ken of, the evil of many huts, and ifs. which
make an injurious discount upon the minis
terial currency. A moderate preacher, who
properly commends himself to every man’s
conscience in the sight of God, will always
be at a premium.
Let mo close this fatherly rebuke of in
considerate brethren, who break the rules
of our orderly ministry, by unseemly innova
tions in their ministerial appearance, hv
calling their minds to the golueu rule of up
right living. See Phil. iv. 8. Finally, breth
ren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever
things are honest, whatsoever things are
just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever
things are lovely, whatsoever things are of
good report; if there bo any virtue, and if
there be any praise, think on these things.
Inside of these prudential rules of life, God
may be served—unmindful of them, we
must be heedless and reckless of his divine
counsel.
Rum Selling aud its Consequences.
Can the man who sells or give spirituous
liquors to his fellows to be drank as a bever
age, be a Christian? Can he possess and
enjoy the religion of Jesus Christ? Let us
try him by the law and the testimony and
see.
Religion is love—love to God and love to
man. This is the sum of the two first great
commandments of the law. “ And love
worketh no ill to his neighbor—therefore
love is the fulfilling of the law.” “Woe
unto him that giveth his neighbor drink,
that putteth thy bottle to him, and makest
him drunken also, that thou mayest look on
their nakedness,” Hab. ii. 15. This, is the
iaw and the testimony by which the true
character of the dram-seller is to be decided.
Does the dram-seller “ love his neighbor
as himself?” Need we ask in the light of
experience and observation, Does the rum
seller- care what becomes of his neighbor so
he gets his money? We have yet to see the
first grog-seller who will not take the last
dime from the wretched sot for another dram,
when he knows that his wife and children
are destitute even of the necessaries of life.
In this is he prompted by love to his neigh
bor or the love of money? The first article
of his mammon creed, is “Let every man
look out for himself. ” Covetousness and sel
fishness lie at the very foundation of his
business. His is a traffic in the blood and
souls, as well as in the fortunes and happiness
of his unfortunate fellow creatures.
Now need we ask, “Can the dram-seller
be a Christian?” Would it not show unpar
donable ignorance, as to the true nature aud
effects of Christianity, to suppose for a mb
ment that any one engaged in so demoral
izing and ruinous a trade, could he a genuine
follower of the Lord Jesus Christ? And yet
there are those engaged in this destructive
business, who, nevertheless, claim to be fol
lowing Him, “who came not to destroy men’s
lives but to save them,” and who hath said
by the month of his Prophet, “ Woe unto
him who giveth his neighbor drink.” But
he is no Christian. He worships Mammon
and Moloch, and to them he offers his hu
man victims in sacrifice, and then, like*Pi
late, washes his hands and says: “I am
innocent of the blood of these men.”
But we will ask another question that may
startle some; but hold still and we will try
to answer it.
“Is the dram-seller a good citizen?" Now if
there is any definite meaning to be attached
to words we must answer he is not and cannot
be. What do we mean when we use the ex
pression, “a good citizen?” Webster says:
“a citizen is one invested with the right of
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & CO., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
MACON, GA., FRIDAY, APRIL 1, 1870.
a free man.” The word “ good” is defined
by the same author to mean “ that which af
fords happiness, advantage." Now let us try
the liquor-seller by these definitions. A cit
izen he may be, though unworthy of she
boon; but a good citizen he is not and can
never be, until he abandons his destrueti -e
and devilish business. And why? Because
a good citizen is one who is of advantage to
his fellow men—one who affords hapjrinsss
to others. But pray, what advantage is the
grog-seller to his fellows aud his country?
Is his business productive of good and pro
motive of happiness in his community? This
no one will affirm, not even the dram-seller
himself. Is the grog-shop a blessing to so
society and to the country? Who is bene
fltted by it? Is it not rather “ the abomina
tion that maketh desolate standing in tho
place where it ought not?” The grog-sellers
in these United States annually send over
sixty-thousand of their fellow men to the
drunkard’s grave and to the drunkard’s hell;
many of their wives and children to tho poor
house. Should we, then, esteem such an
one as a good citizen? Is lie not rather to
be regarded as an enemy to liis race, and to
the best interests of society and to the coun
try? A good citizen is one that so conducts
himself and his business as to confer happi
ness upon his fellows. But upon whom does
the liquor-seller confer happiness? Cer
tainly not upon the drunkard and his family;
for he deprives him of reason, morals, charac
ter and money, and his family oifootl, clothing,
education and respectability, and makes “sweet
home” a barren and desolate waste. But
why attempt to depict the desolation brought
upon the family, and the drunkard and so
ciety by the grog-seller? It would require
a Raphael with liis pencil dipped in the an d
est hues of the infernal world, fully to pisjrt
the picture. Qjf
Now, is it not astounding that any man
engaged in dram-selling should be so de
luded by his sordid love of gain, as to sup
pose that he can follow this traffic in blood
and souls and still bo entitled to the name
and respect of “ a good citizen?” Should we
concede tho claims of these Abaddons of so
ciety to being good citizens? We think not.
The grog-solier is not a good citizen, and he
cannot be until he abandons his business.
“Father forgive them for they know not
what they do.” Hu loves money and is blind
to everything else.
But the dram-seller says that if ho does
not sell liquor somebody else will; and seegis
to think this a sufficient excuse to justify
him in keeping on in this destructive traffic.
But upon the same principle any and eveiy
other evil in the land might be justified. If
I do not fight and swear and gamble and steal,
etc., somebody else will, therefore I am at
liberty to do them. 13 this tho language oi
a good citizen? And then the law allows me
to‘sell liquor, and what the law allows can
not be wrong. Query. Who will the devil
get first, tho law-maker, or the grog-seller
who justifies himself by its authority?
D. J. M.
1 'ffw—r- an j. ■ t . 9
Ductrmc ;tnb (feepLutf.
A Melancholy Remssalscess.ee.
THE “ PROFANE SYZEAHEB’H ” DEATH-BED.
The following incident occurred forty
years ago. The circumstances attending it
were solemn and affecting, and the iuffues
sion made upon tho mind so deep and last
ing, that it appears, even at this distant pe
riod, but as an event of yesterday.
It was the case of a youth of about six
teen summers. He was a profane swearer.
Business brought tho writer frequently into
liis society, where it was painful to be com
pelled to listen to the profanity of his con
versation. Duty prompted him to adminis
ter from time to time, serious reproofs, ac
companied with such remarks as were calcu
lated to affect liis mind and induce him to
abandon his evii habit, and which were in
variably received in a kindly spirit. He
candidly confessed that it was a very wicked
practice, but that he had been so long ac
customed to swearing, that lie did so with
out reflection, and that lie could not help
it—alleging at the same time as an excuse,
that his mother died during his infancy—
that his father had paid no attention to-his
education, and left him to do as he pleased.
Thus he grew up, with none to advise Or
restrain him.
The offensive character of liis speech in
the sight of men—and the still greater
wickedness of it in tho sight of God—the
defiling and ruinous nature and tendency of
it to the soul, and the future dreadful con
sequences of it, were plainly and feelingly
spread before his mind; and he was entreat
ed to abandon a course which, if continued
in, would surely make liis death-bed one of
thorns, and fill his last moments with the
keenest remorse.
Summer was approaching. That fearful
epidemic, the yellow fever, was apprehended.
It came. It raged with unusual malignity,
and hundreds were suddenly hurried from
time to eternity. This poor youth was one
of its earliest victims.
As soon as he fell sick he became greatly
alarmed and distressed on account of his
sins. He lnid no sense of religion, and had
never prayed. He sent for me. As soon as
I approached his bed-side, he took my hand
and feelingly said : “My friend, I am very
sick, and feel that I am going to die, but I
am not prepared to die, I have been such a
sinner. I feel now the truth of every w’ord
you have spoken to me. I want you to pray
for me.” On my next visit I took with me
a ministering brother who had much expe
rience, and knew how to direct the dying
sinner to him who is able to save. We
found him somewhat ’better, but his mind
less concerned than on the previous occa
sion, though he was still very sick; the min
ister conversed and prayed with him, and as
we were about to leave the room he called
me back and said : “Don’t bring the minis
ter here again; I don’t want to see him, you
can do all the talking and praying I need.”
It was evident ho was under the impres
sion that he was getting better—hence his
fear of death and sense of sin were less
alarming ; and hence his aversion to reli
gions conversation. The next day. however,
his disease took a fatal turn, and now he
was sure he would die. Ho felt all the hor
rors of approaching death, and his soul was
filled with a sense of guilt. He raved, ex
claiming, “I do not want to die.” “I will
uot die.” Such was his restlessness that he
could not be kept on his bed. A pallet was
made on the floor, but he rolled off and on
from one side of the room to the other, ex
claiming, “I don’t want to die !” “I don’t
want to die !” until nature, quite exhausted,
submitted to the stern decree of death.
Thus died this poor young man ! this pro
fane swearer, “without God, and without
hope’”
Reader, are you a young man, and a pro
fane swearer ? take warning from tho awful
death-bed of this unfortunate youth. He
had uo mother to teach his' infant lips to
pray—to instil into his young mind rever
ence for the name of God—uo father to care
for him, to restrain his erring footsteps, and
to lead him in the right way. You, perhaps,
are blessed with pious parents, who love yon,
and who have taught you from your earliest
infauev to fear and love God.* You have
doubtless been the child of many prayers,
and many tears, and much earnest solici
tude. The days of childhood and youth
have been accompanied with religious in
struction. “line upon line,” “precept upon
precept,” “here a little and there a little.”
A complete moral barrier, as it were, has
been thrown around you to guard you from
every evil influence and practice. Have yon
broken away from all these wholesome res
traints, and are you now walking iq*the
ways of sin ? How fearful will be
end, if yon die in sin and with guilt upon
your soul. Turn from your wickedness and
live. Give to God your youth; devote your
self to his service—let that tongue which he
has given you, and which yon have hitherto
used in blaspheming his holy name, be
henceforth employed in speaking his praise,
and thus in him you will be blessed for time
and eternity. C. H. L.
Greenville, S. C. [Religious Herald.
Why Join a Church.
This question is often asked sincerely, as
well as in scorn or in skepticism. Now and
then one who is called to meet opposition
in confessing Christ publicly, or who shrinks
from the criticisms which a Church member
must encounter in an unfriendly world, is
tempted to think that he can do as well out
of the Church as in it, especially as many
in it are no credit to the cause. Is this so?
The first thing that strikes a thoughtful
mind on hearing such an assertion is, What
a mistake Christ made, then, in establishing
the Church! Did he understand the neces
sities of his people and of the world? If the
Church was seen by Christ to be a necessity,
and if even the objeotor whom we quote
would shrink from the idea of abolishing it,
why is the duty of maintaining its existence
more imperative on others than on him?
Has he aright to live in a neglect which, if
adopted also by others, would destroy the
Church? Can any pious soul think that it
would be the better for itself and for the
world, if all should conclude it to be unnec
essary to unite with the church, and should
let it perish from among the institutions of
society?
We must suppose that in instituting the
Church, Christ had in View the highest
good of his people. Nor is it difficult to see
why ho made this provision for their wants, or
why the apostles, wherever they preached the
Gospel,gathered the converts into churches.
The very act of joining the church lias an
important effect upon a character and experi
ence. It gives one decision, courage, firm
ness, joy aud hope. The convert takes open
position, breaks visibly with the world, and
identifies himself with Christ. The step is
upward in moral character; it rids him of
hesitation and doubt, and fills his soul with
holy boldness. Now he has crossed the bor
der, is a professed saint, wears Christ’s name,
bears aloft his banner. He feels anew sense
of responsibility, and is deepening in his
pnrpose of holy living. On the one hand
tempters are loss likely to assail him, and
on the other, ho is less liable to bo influenced
by them; just as a pledged total abstineuce
man is less liable to be asked to drink intox
icating liquors, and, if asked, is more cer
tain to refuse.
Then lio gains fresh confidence from his
associations with spiritual brethren and sis
ters. In union we have interior as well as
exterior strength. We are intensified in our
convictions by companionship with others
who share them. The publio opinion of an
unbelieving world is met by the counter
public opinion of the Church. Asa man
misunderstood and maligned in the com
munity gains heart, and finds comfort and
hope, the moment he passes tho threshold
of his door, and comes within the atmos
phere of lovo and faith in his family, where
none doubts him, so the tired and tempted
saint finds solace and support in the fellow
ship of the Church as a Christian family. He
meets sympathy, reoeives countenance, gets
fresh stimulus, is revived in spirit, and stops
out into the world again, full of peace and
firm of purpose.
And then joining the Church brings him
under the means of grace which the Saviour
lias instituted ns perpetual auxiliaries to the
divine life in tho soul. Perhaps 110 one is
fully aware liow much ho is indebted to out
ward influences and helps, which, in a sense,
surround and constrain him, as the oncircliug
hoops the iKirrel. Hence tho sad fall of so
many church members when they emigrate
beyond the churches. The worship of the
sanctuary, the partaking of tho ordinances,
the hearing of the Gospel, are as bread to
the hungry, or water to the thirsty. A man
must have food and drink and pure air with
out, as well as healthy stomach, heart and
lungs within. These two conditions of life
are strong in mutual connection, weak and
useless in separation. When Christ insti
tuted the Lord’s Supper, and said, “Do this
in remembrance of Me,” he had our spiritual
good as well as his own momory in view,
fie proposed a special channel of grace, which
no one can underrate and neglect, even ig
norantly, without serious damage and loss.
We never knew one to try tho experiment
of leading a Christian life outside of the
church with success; that is, in the ordinary
circumstances which allow one the oppor
tunity of thus confessing Christ. Such an
experience is filled with doubt, often even
to the abandonment of Christian hope, is
weighed down with a sense of condemnation,
is mado lonely by want of full sympathy
either with the church or the world, loses
fellowship with the Saviour, falls easily into
sin, becomes timid and restrained, and is
devoid of spiritual power over others. No
one can behold such a life, and see it in the
beauty and joy, the comprehensiveness, the
proportion, the attraction, the silent instruc
tion which go with a consistent, hearty pro
fession of faith in Christ, bravely and lov
ingly maintained before friend and foe.—
Advance.
Women as Helpers.
Rev. John Hall, D. D., discusses this sub
ject in an article in the Neta York Observer,
and reaches the following conclusions;
There are many congregations and churches
that lack a nameless something, and for want
of it are weak. They huvemany people,but
the people do not cohere. They are not so
much a building as a heap of stones. They
want to be “joined together and compacted.”
How is it to be done? We men are hard,
angular, intractable. Women must help us.
Besides stones, there must be mortar —soft,
yielding, adaptable. Women have gentleness,
tact, quickness of perception. Your true
woman feels, as by an instinct, what it is
proper and graceful to say and do, and has
done it. while your clumsy, elephantine,male
intellect is torpid, or is groping to feel for
something proper in the circumstances. La
dies that fear God and do his will can build
up here. They can help to make people feel
at home. They can speak gentle and kindly
words. They can subsidise social influences
and render them “helps to the truth.” They
can frown ill-nature out of a circle, and by
their approval, evoke the aid of the timid
and hesitating.
There lately died in England an accom
plished woman, who made no speeches, wrote
no books, nor even went beyond what the
most fastidious count woman's sphere, But
she was no small part of her husband’s (Lord
Palmerston’s) political power. Her atten
tentions, her tact, her smiling approval, her
respectful notice of waverers, or of support
ers whom the most complacent minister
must sometimes disoblige, did mucb, as all
men allowed, to build up and sustain his
personal and political influence. But Chris
tian ladies, ‘ ‘One is your Master, even Christ. ”
His cause is to be built up, his Church is to
be edified. Do what you can. Find ways
of working for him. A will can make a way.
Build over against you, and you shall not
miss the gracious notice of him whose ser
vant wrote down of Shallum and his share
in the rising defences of the ancient Jerusa
lem, “He and his Daughters.”
The Way to the Cr.owx. —We must taste
the gall, if we are to taste the glory. If
justified by faith, we must suffer tribulations.
When God saves a soul, he tries it. Some
believers are muoli surprised when they are
called to suffer. They thought they would
do some great thing for God; but all he per
mits them to do is to suffer for his sake. Go
round to every one in glory ; each has a dif
ferent story to tell yet every one a tale of
sufferings. But mark, all were brought out
of them. It was a dark cloud,' but it passed
away. The water was deep, but they reached
the other side. Not one there blames God
for the way He led them thither.' “Salva
tion !” is tlieir only cry. Child of God,
murmur not at your lot. You must have a
plain as well as a white robe. Learn to glory
In tribulations also.
A good conscience is better than two wit
nesses—it will consume your grief as the
snn dissolves ice. It is a spring when you
are thirsty—a staff when you are weary—
a serene when the sun burns —a pillow iq
death.
A Talk with Parents.
I know thousands of parents who have re
ceived from God a chill, and then they turn
the young immortal into a dressmaker's doll!
As if God had not made the little creature
beautiful enough, they must overload it with
upholsterings of silk and laces, and then tor
ture its graceful freedom into the tongues
and screws of arbitrary fashion. On a cer
tain Sabbath these parents brought their
children to church, and formally devoted
them to the Lord in baptism. But all tho
rest of the time they are consecrating their
offspring to that other trinity—fashion,
finery and folly 1 I tell you that this over
dressing of the body strikes through into
the heart. It poisons the mind with affec
tions and most unchildlike greed of admira
tion and vain glory. How oan a stop ever
be put to the crop of fops and fashions if
children are to be trained into foppery and
coxcombry from their cradles? How can
our children be taught self-denial, frugality,
humility and spiiitual-mindedness, while
their graceful forms are smothered under tho
artificial trappings of pride and extravagance?
lam quite sure that when the sensible He
brew mother “made a little coat” for her
lovely boy, she remembered that he was
“lent unto the Lord,” and not to the “lusts
or the pride of life.”
But there is another meaning which I
wish to give to this “little coat.” In the
Bible, dress is an emblem of character.—
Christianity is spoken of as a raiment; we
are exhorted to “put on Christ," to be
“clothed with humility,” and to keep our
garments unspotted from tho world. Nor is
it a mere pun—a playing with sacred words
to remind you that habit both signifies dress
and signifies disposition of the mind and its
tendency to good or evil. The habit of do
ing right is the essence of godliness.
Now, wo parents not only clothe our little
ones; we also provide, in no small degree
the habits of their souls. We help to clothe
them in garments of light and loveliness, or
else in garments of sin aud sorrow and
shame. We make for them coats which no
moth can consume—coats which they shall
be wearing after we have mouldered into
dust! Our children put on the example we
set, and wear it. Not only what we say, but
what we do, will be repeated in their opin
ions and their conduct. Our characters
stream into our children. It enters into
their eyes and through their ears every mo
ment, How quick they are to copy us! No
photographic plate ismoie exquisitely sen
sitive to tho images which lodge there. Our
dissimulations make them tricky and deceit
ful. If a boy is handled harshly, and jerked
into obedience, he will likely turn out a
sulky, obstinate nature; he will be just what
our impatient rudeness makes him. If ma
licious tattle sour our conversation at tho
table, our children’s “teeth will be set on
edge." If we talk only “money, money,
money,” they will bo greedy for sharp bar
gains. If we talk “horses,” and “baseball,”
and “race courses,” etc., they will be on fire
with a rage for sporting. If wo give our
boys a dollar for the toy shop or places of
amusement, and only a dimo for tho contri
bution box, wo shall teach thorn that self-in
dulgence is of ten times moro importance
than charity. If we live for the world, they
will die/or the. world, and be lost, forever! The
mind-garments which we weave they will
wear. Long after we are dead, our children
will bo clothed iu tho habits wo helped to
fashion.
My fellow-parents, we are weaving our
children’s habits every hour. We do it ns
clothes ni’e made, stitch by stitch. VV’e do it
by little things and through unconsoious in
fluences. We are making the “little coats”
which shall bo worn not only in this world,
but in tho world to come! Oh, how much
it depends on us whether they shall “ walk
in white” among tho glorified iu Heaven!
The property wo can leave our children may
bo small indeed. Wo may not afford them
an expensive education. But day by day.
we can bo prayerfully, patiently weaving for
them that garment of goodness which shall
grow brighter and still brighter until they
put on the shining raiment like unto those
that are before tho Throne!— Rev. T. L.
Cuyler.
Watering the Seed.
At the close of the morning servioe in 0110
of the many churches of a certain city, the
attention of a strange lady was attracted by
the announcement from the pulpit, “Prayer
moetiug iu the basement, for a quarter of an
hour, immediately after the benediction.”
Prompted both by inclination and curios
ity, she followed those who were gathering
in the appointed place—but was surprised
to find no pastor present—none but ciders
and lay members.
As she listened, however, to the few, briof,
earnest petitions, and learned that tho ob
ject of the meeting was to water, with in
stant prayer, tho seed just sown by a faithful
minister—she felt that it was better for the
people thus to hear a separate part of the
Sabbath’s burden. Becoming interested in
the congregation through this peculiarity,
she has since regularly attended with them
upon the ministration of God’s word. Was
she wrong in concluding that so prayerful a
people would be the most helpful fellow
travelers during her brief sojourn iu that
city ?
It is a stated meeting. Sabbath after
Sabbath they gather, a goodly number, to
spend that brief period of time iu beseocli
ing au immediate blessing upon the preached
gospel. Only a quarter of an hour ! aud
yet a quarter of an hour tending to knit to
gether Christian hearts in oneness of pur
pose, and fraternal affliction ; to strengthen
tho pastor’s hands ; aud, more than all, to
produco fruit a lmndred-i'old in the fast ap
proaching harvest-day. Would that congre
gations everywhere would “go aud do like
wise.”—Missouri Presbyterian.
“Is it a Sin to be liicii 1”
What a question, and yet we have seen
this question asked and answered in all seri
ousness iu more than one religious journal.
To the abstract question there can be, in nil
reason, but one, answer. A man has a right
to acquire riches honestly, all other duties
which a prosperous worldly condition im
poses being discharged. It is hardly possi
ble to do this and accumulate au extravagant
amount of riches. Take the New Testa
ment—take the golden rule—act by them to
the letter and in their spirit, and such are
the circumstances of so large a portion of
mankind, that it would require a liberal dis
tribution of surplus earnings to meet the re
quirements of the Saviour. The saying of
Christ that a rich man can hardly enter the
kingdom of Heaven, had not so much refer
ence abstractly to his riches, as it did to
their accompaniments. He knew, as we all
know, that persons of wealth are in the way
of temptations which do not affect other
classes. God requires of them a certain use
of their means, which it is hard for human
nature to make. The passion for wealth,
like most other passionsof tho human heart,
grows with what it feeds upon, and, ns a
general thing, the larger tho gains, the more
eager the greed. And so riches become an
idol and are worshiped ; they absorb, as it
were, the soul of their possessor, and hence
he is in danger of losing heaven for the rea
son that he has lost all desire and lovo lor
heavenly things. And this is what was meant
when it was said that a rich man can hardly
enter the kingdom. He has a burden, like
Bunyan's pilgrim, and what is worse, 110
loves his burden and clings to it. He is un
willing to part with it even with the grave
opening before him; and ho goes down into
the river with it and sinks, and the waters
close over him. If it wero possible for man
kind to bo possessed of riches and retain
their purity of soul, ns they would under
other conditions, and to meet the responsi
bilities which they impose, we should not
have recorded the Language of Christ on this
subject. Perhaps he intended the rale he
laid down to the young man, “Go and sell
that thou hast and give to the poor,” as one
that should be applicable in all time, and as
a test of tho sincerity of religious profes
sions. Be this as it may, riches are a snare,
and there are very few who know how to use
them, or knowing, do not follow knowledge
so as to meet tho requirements of God.
We should prefer wealth for the good we can
do with it ; not for hoarding ; not for the
luxurious living it will give us ; not that it
mny pander to pride, and show, and extrava
gance, and ostentation ; but that through it
we may honor God and aid in building up
his kingdom ; that we may relieve poverty,
and want, and woe ; that, wo may advance
religion, and learning, that wo may make the
world better, holier, happier for oar having
been blessed with the spirit of love, and
charity, and benevolence, and unselfishness,
akin to that of Christ, and the means where
by we are enabled to make it effective for the
doing of good. —The Standard.
From the Presbyterian and Index.
Superfluities of Christians a Foun
tain of Benevolence.
Whilst perusing a religious newspaper,
this sentence arrested my attention, “ The
superfluities of professed Christians would
send the gospel to the wholo world.” Can
this be so, I asked myself, and at once began
to inquire if even an approximation to so
startling an announcement could bo reached.
Without turnisliing here the data that served
to couvinco my own mind, preferring to lot
each one tap his own conscience for contri
butions towards establishing its truth, I be
came convinced that tho above statement is
in the main correct. And if so, what a ter
rible responsibility devolves on those who
are possessed of a proportion of means for
consummating tho divine command, “Go,
preach my gospel to every creature,” but
prefer to withhold their quota and waste it
in the superfluities of extravagance and sen
sual indulgence in its many diversified chan
nels ? How easily do Christians, male and
female, seem to forget that they are but
stewards of all they possess, and that they
are accountable for the manner of em
ploying whatsoever talents are intrusted to
their care!
Now, no talent, in the matter of accom
plishing good, is so much abused aud mis
used as money, which in this commercial ago
is so indispensable for furthering tho plans
of extending the gospel of Christ; and any
one possessed of it in any degree will be
proportionably responsible for its nse. Very
many are prone to beliovo, erroneously, that
they can only contribute a widow’s mite;
whilst others, knowing that they cannot ex
cuse themselveß with so unapt a comparison,
yet fall far short in proportion of what she
gave. But the period approaches when this
subject will be regarded with great serious
-11 and, we apprehend, with deep regret.
Opportunities, golden opportunities for as
sisting iu the glorious work of hastening
the Redeemer’s kingdom and saving multi
tudes of heathen souls, are being neglected—
such opportunities as are vouchsafed to man
only, and which observing bands of angels
would hasten down to earth to engage iu, if
permitted. Can it bo that man is so short
sighted as to forego such privileges, laden
with fruits of eternal recompense, for mo
mentary gratifications of sense ? And wo
man, that self-sacrificing being when obedi
ent to the calls of duty, can she bo so incon
siderate as to prefer thoughtless extrava
gance to an active participation in the heaven
born work of reclaiming perishing beings
from eternal ruin ?
Let every man and woman called Chris
tian weigh this subject as never before, and
co-operate earnestly in the great work be
fore us. Let every superfluity be lopped off
from our present expenditures and be thrown
into the great contribution box of Christian
effort, till tho means furnished shall be ade
quate to tho accomplishment of tho end de
sired. Let us arouse from our lethargy and
do our full duty in this ns in overy good
work. Opening avenues for encouraging
efforts are looming up daily. It would seem
as if long uoferred hopes and expectations
are about to be gratitiod. From eveiy quar
ter, even tho most inaccessible hitherto,
doors of invitation, much less of permission,
are being flung wido open, and wo almost
hear again the Macedonian plea, “ Como
over and help us.”
“Tho fashion of this world passoth away;”
tho stern realities of tho futuro are not
far distant; let us weigh their relative im
portance.
Tine Clinrcii’9 Capability.
A living and consoeratod Church is a vast
power in society. It mny bo composed of
persons to whom tho higher and intellectual
circles are not open, aiul whose social influ
ence is of little moment. But, if they ore
vital Christians, consistent, and cheerful,
and constant in tlieir piety, there is not a
circle aside from them, however distinct
from their own, into which their influence
will not as surely extend itself as the per
l'umo of hedge-row violets steals uncon
sciously into the neighboring conservatory,
where nothing so humble, nor yet half so
sweet, as the little way-side flower is found.
Tho Church of Christ has, however, laid
under tribute to her Lord no mean measures
and degress of intellect, and rank, and so
cial powers, and commanding influence,
wbich qualify her to enter, unchallenged,
the highest and proudest realms of socio-
S’. Tho wholo world is subject to her in
icnce, if not her will. Her legitimate
power is incalculably great. She can over
awe national sins, and make popular vices
tremble. She can preserve the sanctity of
the Sabbath-day almost inviolate; or, at
least compel its desecrators to cover their
impieties with tho veils of secrecy. She can
command such general external reverence
for the hou«e of God that all existing sanc
tuaries would be utterly inadequate to hold
thronging worshipers.
These are but some of the more striking
capabilities of her legitimate power. If
they have never been fully realized, it is
because she has uever used all her celestial
energies to the best advantage. The mel
ancholy truth is this : Zion is too ranch like
the world around her to do more than utter
feebly, from her pulpits, her homes, and her
various centres of power, the letter of her
Divine Lord’s protest against worldliness,
selfishness, pleasure, and sin. That faint
utterance of it the reckless world laughs to
scorn; and, as it beholds the ineffectualness
of the latter to keep the Church out of its
excesses, not altogether unreasonable ques
tions of Divine authority of the Spirit so
glaringly dishonored in the practice of the
Christian community.— Watchman and Re
flector.
Reasons for Dressing Plainly on
tlie .Lord’s Day.
1. It would lessen the burdens of many
who find it hard to maintain their places in
society.
2. It would lesson tho force of tho temp
tations which often lead men to barter hon
or and honesty for display.
3. If there was less strife in dress at
church, people in moderate circumstances
would be more inclined to attend.
4. Universal moderation in dress at church
would improve the worship by the removal
of many wandering I’ 'its.
5. It would enable w , -es of people to
attend church better in üb.« fable weather.
6. It would lessen, on the part of the rich,
the temptation to vanity.
7. It would lessen, on the part of the
poor, the temptation to be envious and ma
licious.
8. It would save valuable time on the Sab
bath.
9. It would relieve onr means from a seri
ous pressure, and thus enable us to do more
for good enterprises.
Faith. —What is faith ? I have never
heard but three definitions that satisfied me.
One, of course, ,-itonds upon a level infinite
ly above our poor criticism ; that is in the
inspired definition of tno apostle, that “faith
is the substance”—that is, the confident re
alization—“of things hoped for, the evi
dence”—that is, a conviction reaching to
demonstration—“of things not seen.” But
there is another definition which I have
often spoken of. and which, from its exceed
ing simplicity, has thoroughly satisfied my
mind. It is the one of the old Scotch wo
man, who heal’d persons disputing long as to
what f:iith was. She answered; “Well, to
me it seems a very simple thing ; it is to take
God at liis word. ” And yet there is another
definition which struck my own mind very
much. It is that of au Irish child. I had
this from the lips of a ’missionary who was
examining the school. He was asking what
faith was, and one cliilcT. said “Trust,” while
another said “Belief,” and so on. At last
he saw a thoughtful girl, and she said, “I
■think, sir, I can tell yon what, it is.” “M hat
is it, my child ?” 110 asked. “It is tho Holy
Ghost,” said she, “moving the soul to lean
upon Jesus Christ. ” I think, mv friends,
that is a beautiful definition of faith tne
Holy Ghost moving the soul to lean upon
Jesus Christ.— Rev. E. H. fiickertuth.
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR
WHOLE NUMBER 1796.
The Paster’s Wife.
There is a class of people in our land that,
it seems to me, has not hitherto received
that attention and sympathy that it de
serves. I refer to pastors’ wives. And what
I shall say, has espeoial reference to the
wives of country pastors. Those noble,
self-sacrificing women, who, if they are true
to their calling, are nearer our idea of
“guardian angels” than any oreatures on
earth, seem never to have gained the atten
tion of benevolent thinkers and writers.
Many have “taken in hand to set forth in
order” the many noble deeds of country
pastors, who, weok after week, must bid
adieu to home, wife, ohildren, and all that is
lovoly and sweet that clusters around home;
to go and preach the Word of life to other*;
but who has over called attention to the lit
tle group he left behind him ? If you, kind
reader, nave never thought of the pastor’s
wife, let us go now and witness one of .those
scenes that wears a sad charm—that makes
the leading character a heroine worthy of
your admiration. ’Tis Friday eve ; the pas
tor has called the little homo flock together
to give a few parting words of instruction,
in order to leave home for several days. Tho
church is fifteen miles distant; tho meeting
may protract, and many things at home will
claim attention before the pastor returns to
this charge. Ho rehearses the order of bu
siness as regards the farm, the stock, and
last, but not least, tho management of tho
family. These instructions being given, an
affectionate farewell is taken, and soon the
husband and father is gone, leaving a wid
owed family for the time, But did you no
tice the wife ? She cast a lingering look
down the road till its curve behind the grove
hid tho object of her sight. Now, with a
sigh, she turns her eyes and thoughts on
things around her. She might say : “Tho
burden of my own domestic affairs is enough
for one of my delicate health, with so littlo
help as I have; but here is the burden of
all my husband’s affairs to care for; and olf !
how can I bear and do so much !” But she
does not say this. With an air of cheerful
ness that would gladden an angel’s face, she
goes to her charge, cleaning and brushing
house and furniture; for, “helping husband
off” has delayed these matters. The busy
days and lonely nights glide by. The pastor
returns and finds that lovely creature, not
fretful because of his absenco and hers -ur
ben of care, but ready to greet him with a
welcome smile and an anxious inquiry about
his health and comfort. He finds all about
the premises going on in order, and all at
wife's expense 1 Is she not a guardian an
gel ? Does she not deserve the sympathy
and prayers of all good people, and the hap
piest seat in heaven ? God bless the pastor's
wife. __
But this scene only presents one feature J
of the subject. It sometimes happens that
an adverse train of circumstances sets in. A
storm throws the fences and timbers down,
stock get into the farm, etc.; or aiokness be
falls the family, and neighbors soi jp
know and care but littlo f®*- Mie poor wife's
trials, and she is left alone—not “in her
glory, ’’ but like a lone ship at sea in a storm,
a world of trouble within her breast as tho
troubled crew in the Bliip, and the ocean of
stormy waves without. Oh ! how her frail
nature quakes and threatens to give way un
der the terrible pressure 1 How she prays
for husband’s return 1 With what gratitude
sho reoeives all tho little attentions given by
a kind neighbor, if she has one. Does any
one regard this as an overdrawn picturo ?
If so, let him visit tho homes of country
pastors during their absence, and be con
vinced that the roality is only dimly colored.
But these kind creatures often pass through
a thousand varying scenes of this kind,
with but littlo to cheer them in this life but
the conSciouness of having done their duty,
and the approving smiles of their returning
husbands. But tho kind, observing eye of
Heaven is looking down, and will not let
such patient, untiring toil in His vineyard
go unrewarded. Tho pastor’s wife is enti
tled to, and will share in heaven at least
half the laurels that grace her husband’s
brow. Wo say again, God bless the pastor's
wife.
How to Take hift*.
Take life just us though it was—os it is—
an earnest, vital, essential affair. Toko it
just as though you personally were born to
the task of performing a busy part in it—
as though the world had waited for your
coming. Take it as if it was a grand op
portunity to do and achieve ; to carry for
ward great and good schemes ; to help and
cheer a suffering, weary, it may be heart
broken brother.
The fact is, life is undervalued by a great
majority of mankind. It is pot made half
as much of as should be the case Whore is
the mau or woman who accomplishes one
tithe of what might be done ? Who oannoir
look bock upon opportunities lost, plan?-Un
achieved, thoughts crushed, aspirations un-,
fulfilled, and all caused by the lack of'tpo
necessary and possible effort ? If wC knew
better how to take and make the most of
life, it would be far greater than it is. Now
and then a man stands aside from the crowd,
labors earnestly, steadfastly, confidently, 'myd
straightway becomes famous for greatness of
some sort. The world wonders, admires,
idolizes ; ret it only illustrates what each
may do if he takes hold of life with a pur
pose. If a man but ssys he will, and follows
it up, he may expect to accomplish anything
reasonable.
Anxiety Unwise.
1. Because all tho future ip in God’s
Lauds. An infinitely wise and good Being
is sovereign over all its' events. Not one |
of them can escape his notice or elude his
control.
2. Because you have no right to put into
one day what belongs to another. The fu
ture will have its own cares and f
plenty of them, likely—and they will be
along in due time. But they have uo hnai
ness among the cares and anxieties of tho
present time. You must not put Jhem
there.
3. Because it is ill treatment of the beat
advice. Just read the following advice, and
think who was the adviser: “Wherefore
take no thought for the morrow, for tho
morrow shall take thought for the things of
itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil
thereof.”
4. Because it implies want of confidence
in God. Has he not hitherto denlt well
with you ? Could you have taken as good
care of yourself as he has taken qf you ?
If you can reflect on goodness, can you not
anticipate goodness ? Has not God laid a
noble basis for confidence in all his faithful
ness.
-'I* 1 *
Sphutual Decay.-— Decay is always grad
ual, and in the case or-bodily consumption,
singularly concealed from the subject of it.
Equally deceptive is the spiritual consump
tion of the soul, and he who is on the verge
of eternal death in some cases knows not his
danger. As it is with professed Christians
individually, so it is also with churches, and
there may to an unpracticed eve be in mem
bers the appearance of life, when to the ;di
seeing eye of Christ there is discerned the
certain but insidious progress of dissolution!
“Remember, therefore, now thou hast, re
ceived and heard, and hold fast and repent, - ’
is tho Scriptural injunction to those who, on
examination, find a deadness of the heart in
divine things. And it behooves them to act
accordingly.
Humility. —l observe God hath chosen
the vine, a low plant thnt creeps upon tho
helpless wall; of all beasts, the soft and pa
tient lamb ; of all birds, the mild and guile
less dove. Christ ia the rose of tho field .
and tho lily of the valley. When God ap-.
peered to Moses, it was not in the lofty
cedar, nor the sturdy oak, nor the spreading
palm, but in a bush, an humble, Blender,
abject bush. As if he would by these selec
tions check the conceited arrogance of man.
—Oicett Feellhctm.
If an earthly prinoe quit his palace to visit
the cottage of a poor peasant, it is thought
great condescension—what then si all we
think of the King of kings, who deigns to
fix lus abode in the contrite spirit of an
humble soul ?
Worldly pleasures are no more able to
satisfy the soul than the light of a candle
give day to the world.
The iieartjis the only thing that increase!
in value by being broken,