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TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS.
PER. IST ISTXJIVI.
VOLUME XXXIX., NO. 14.
Ijpoctrn.
SHALL WE KNOW OCR FRIENDS IN
HEAVEN I
We cannot hear tbe Ml of gentle feet
Beyond the river they may cross no more,
Nor see familiar factjs, angel sweet.
Through the dim distance on the other shore.
Where are the friends, companions, down the
years,
Who shared onr care afid labor, gain and loss;
Who wept with us in sorrow, bitter te rs ;
Who knelt beside us at the Saviour’s cross ?
Some were a weary of the world, and old,
And some had sc rrcely passed meridian prim ;
And some were gathered to the bless* and fold
In all the beauty of life’s morning time.
A few had climed the heights not many gain,
And battled nobly for the good and true ;
Many wrouaht humbly, on life’s common plane;
But all accomplished what they came to do.
And as we walked together by the way,
They turned and left us—left us, one by one.
Loye followed weeping, but they might not
stay.
For all* her pleading, when their work was
done.
Shall we not meet again, or soon or late ?
Meet at the entrance to the fin tl goal ?
Did the Pale Angel, at the shadowy gate,
Undo the tie that bound us, soul to soul ?
Nay, by the holy instincts of our loye,
By every hope humanity holds dear,
I trust in God to meet my treasure-trove,
Tenderly loving, as we parted her e.
it must be so, if deathless mind retain
The noblest attributes that God has given ;
Love, hope., and memory count but little gain,
If what they win on earth be lost in heaven.
And if the liumn loye, that underlies
All that is true and good, In man’s estate—
A!' that remains to us of paradise—
Were lacking here, heaven would be desolate.
Nay, as the rich man knew, on Abraham’s
breast.
The whilom beggar at his palace gate ;
As Saul knew Samuel, when, at God’s behest,
He came to warn the monarch of his fate ;
As Moses and Elias, heavenly bright.
Were recognized upon the mount sublime—
Shall we know our beloved, iu the light
That lies beyoud tne shores of death aud
time.
—Sarah T. Bolton, in Indianapolis Journal.
Contributions.
THOUGHTS ON SANCTIFICATION.
NIM BEK 0.
BY REV. L. PIERCE.
Sanctification comes next under considera
tion ; and upon it I propose to bestow more
abundant labor, as it has, in m' view, either
received too little attention, or else it has
been improperly considered. Too much has
been made of it to bring it intelligibly within
the range of Christian experience ; or else
it has been so complicated with the mere
idea of a growth in grace, as to render the
attainment of it too indefinite even to be re
alized as a specific work of grace through
faith in Christ. And as it is evident that
what we mean by sanctification, and what
the Scriptures teach us concerning it, make
it an act of grace, through faith of a higher
order, and of a more perfect deliverance
from sin than is realized in the mere for
giveness of sin ; I deem it absolutely nec
essary to re-iustate the old Wesleyan Meth
odist doctrine on this subject. For if there
is any further deliverance from sin than ti e
simple forgiveness of it through faith in
Christ required of us, as also attainable
through that same faith, and we fail to use
it; and, in the way of a voluntary indiffer
ence to it, undertake to get to heaven on a
lower plane than Christ saw it necessary to
provide for, such ind-fference must be fatal
In Ist John i:7, it is said, “ if we walk in
the light, as He is in the light,” that, beside
other blessings mentioned, “ the blood of
Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all
sin.” And what God calls all, isall- Again,
in the 9th verse, “ if we confess our sins He
is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and
to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Un
less this cleansing from all unrighteousness
is a higher state of religion than simple for
giveness, it is without meauing, and clearly
redundant —so much so as to add nothing at
all to the glorious efficacy of Christ’s blood
shedding. But this is what is in'-aut by in
stantaneous sanctification. I use this word
purposely, because sanctification can never
be known as a distinct act of saving grace,
unless it is attainable through faith in Christ
as provided for in the merit of His death,
aud promised us as the gift of the Spirit.
I maintain that if sanctification was to be
simply grown into, that, to say nothing more
discouraging about it than this, it could
never be known or professed as a mat
ter of experience. But I insist that it is a
knowable experience. Christ prayed the
Father to sanctify His people through the
truth ; and he never prayed in this way only
for what could be had and was necessary.
In Ist Thes. 4th chapter, we are assured
by the Apostle that the will of God is “even
our sanctification.” A noteworthy word —
li even our sanctification.” Not only other
and lower blessings, but sanctification also.
In the sth chapter, Paul prayed for the
largest aud fullest sanctification of the Thes
galoniaus, ever asked for Christian believers.
This he did not do as an enthusiast, but as
an inspired Apostle. The Holy Spirit never
prompted these inspired Apostles to pray
for unnecessary or unpromised grace.
But you will ask me, what is the differ
ence between justification and sanctifica
tion, in reference to Christian experience?
I answer briefly, that the difference is
mainly in this: That justification only saves
us from the immediate guilt of sin in the
past, while it leaves us fearfully under the
power of sin as it rushes upon us through
passions and affections which so lately en
slaved us. So that our religious peace is
constantly disturbed by the war within ; for
we seem to hold our religion rather by force,
than by conquest. Sinning again seems not
merely possible, but probable. So much so
that shocking doubts as to our having reli
gion at all, gives Satan great advantage
against us. This fearful moral weakness, if
lived in, and yielded to, either through un
belief or carelessness, becomes a moral evil.
And then, again, there are those in the
Church in whom there is so much of the
carnal miud left, that they desire to partici
pate in theatres, operas, circuses, skating
rinks, parlor dancings, and all fashionable
dress and gossip. As the Church does not
openly patronize these entertainments they
refrain. But they never fail, when they can
make capital out of it, to let the world
know that they abstain out of respect to these
Church prejudices; not for Christ’s sake,
nor for conscience sake. These are not.
fixed in heart, nor renewed in the spirit of
their mind. They are not after any sanctifi
cation of themselves to God. They do not
believe either in the necessity of it, or its at
tainability. While those that are after the
Spirit, aud do mind the things of the Spirit,
come, in the very order of salvation’s divine
economy, to see and to feel that this unclean
ness of the spirit is the bar (the last bar) in
the way of a safe passage over life’s perilous
coast, into the heavenly rest —because it is
Otyly the pure iu heart that shall see God—
|§oifJteri (Sbrnfiatr IMtwafe*
and with a penitent heart —a heart that is
not torn with the sense of unpardoued sin as
before; but humbled in the way that Job
was after his clearer vision of God’s majesty
and glory. We repent in dust and ashes,
and for the first time, reach that point in
self-abnegation where we feel we must have
a clean heart and a right spirit, before we
are meet to be partakers of the inheritance
of the saints in light; and laying hold on the
promises of being cleansed from all un
righteousness, believe and feel wbat is meant
by entire sanctification —which is being dead
indeed, unto sin, and alive unto God through
Jesus Christ. “ Through Jesus Christ,” is
always to be understood as specific and em
phatic. This being “ dead indeed unto sin
and alive unto God” so that it is our com
mon experience, is entire sanctification. It
is that state of religion which leaves no cre
vice in the guardian wall of its sacred temple
within. The flesh, aud its affections, being
crucified, leaves no lingering lust after car
nal gratifications ; but in place thereof is
found an abiding element of holiness, by tbe
constitutional law of which every evil thing
is not merely hateful, but necessarily ab
horred. This holy state cannot be reached
as long as there is wanting in us a decided
sense of seeking it, as the only attainment
that can make us righteous, even as He is
righteous—that is, so righteous as to abhor
evil from a holy constitution. We must be
emphatic in this idea. No one can be holy
until he, or she, abhor evil after the fashion
of God's abhorrence of it —that is, from its
antagonism to tbe spirit of holiness. Ab
horrence of evil is its sequence.
OLD QUARTERLY CONFERENCE JOUR
NALS —OLD KEOWEE (PENDLETON) CIUITTT.
Changes in Name and Boundaries— Divis
and Sub-Division —Fifih Quarters —An-
other Quarterly Conference Question Wan
ted —A Quarterly Conference Forty three
Years Ago—Churches Forming the Cir
cuit— Small Collections—Still Smaller
Averages— Close Calculations General
Conclusions.
This circuit lies within the boundaries of
Anderson county. In the General Minutes
it is first mentioned as separate from other
charges, in 1802. Its name was changed to
Pendleton in 1833; changed to Anderson
Circuit iu 1835 ; and nearly within the same
boundaries are now the Anderson and Wil
liamston stations, Walhalla, and Pendleton,
Anderson, and Sandy Springs Circuits.
Division and sub-division, aud division
again, has long been the order of Conference
action, sought to be retarded often by some
croaking cry of ruin. Yet the ruin is hard
to be discovered, unless the multiplication
of churches, members, preachers, and charges
betoken it. A short-sighted policy would
have held on to the old four and six weeks
circuits, if for no other reason, that la'-ge
families might be supported ; but results
prove that better work gives better pay, and
greater stability and force to all religious ac
tion. This old circuit is a proof in point,
as may be seen, likely, before this present
reading is ended.
The old journal in my possession extends
from 1883 to 1844. There is little of inter
est in it, save in the exhibit of finances in
completeness rarely equalled. So exact was
the recording steward (I knew him well),
that an error of half a cent in a balance
sheet, would have caused him trouble until
rectified. Most Conference journals lack in
this important feature. It is rarely the case
that the proceedings of the fifth quarter —a
technicality well understood by Methodist,
preachers—are put on record, and the
charge often loses thereby its credit. By
the way. ought not this to be incorporated in
the order of business of a Quarterly Confer
ence? And will not those having charge of
the matter insert another question?—What
was collected and how expended in closing
the business of the past year ? It would
hurt uobody, and in case there had been a
heavy deficiency, would be a gentle re
minder to all concerned to do better. Loss
lies often in a slovenly way of doing busi
ness.
But to take up the old Keowee records :
The Quarterly Conference for 1833, forty
three years ago, had Malcom McPherson for
Presiding Elder, John W. McCall, preacher
in charge. Local preachers: Levi Garrison,
Robert Gaines, R. Shockley, Win. G. Mul
linax, Philip Elrod, Willis Dickerson. Ex
horters : Wm. Rhodes, Samuel Hamby, Jas.
Shockley, Basil Smith. Class-leaders: Law
son Mullinax, John Golden, Thos. Gass iwav,
Anderson Smith, Thos. Evatt, Wm. Flem
ming, Robt. Pickins, Joel Ledbetter, John
Ledbetter, Wesley Earp, John Morris, Hugh
H. Whittecur, Sidney Smith, Allen Harbin,
John Adams, Jas. Holland. Thos. Carpenter,
Dugal McKellar, Jas. B. Clark, Washington
Crawford ; and Garrison Linn, Steward.
The churches forming the circuit were
Anderson C H., Ebenezer, Mt. Zion, Sha
ron. Sword's, Wesley Chapel, Shiloh, Snow
Hill. Lynn’s. Bethel, Sandy Springs, Bethes
da.Cosper’s Chapel. Rhuhama, Siler’s, Prov
idence, Asbury, Smith’s Chapel, Pendleton
—nineteen in all.
The sums collected at these churches for
the year 1833, ranged from $19.95 the high
est, to 50 ceuts, the lowest amount contribu
ted, making an aggregate of $105.39. The
traveling expenses paid amounted to $11.68J,
leaving $93.70}, of which the Presiding El
der received $21.00, leaving to tbe preacher
$72.70}. White members in the circuit 754,
an average per member of 12} cents —not
an excessive amount one would think allow
ing that the laborer was at all worthy of his
hire.
In 1834 James Stacy was the preacher—
finances were better —$156.87} collected.
Travelling expenses, $13.80, deducted, left
$148,014, of which the Presiding Elder re
ceived $43.00, leaving to the preacher more
than his full claim. One hundred dollars
and one and a half cents (100.01}). Mem
bership 792—average 18 cents —an improve
ment certainly. One still greater is seen in
1835—but then there were three preachers to
pay instead of two. The Presiding Elder
received $55.75, preacher in charge SIOO.OO,
junior preacher $49 50. Aggregate $205.25
—membership 783—average 26 cents.
This improvement doubtless led to the
appointment of a man of family in 1836
and SIOO.OO was allowed for his family ex
penses. But alas 1 for the vanity of human
hopes, only $165.01 was raised —paying the
Elder $28.00 —balance all told to preacher
in charge. Membership 615 —average 25
cents.
The returns for 1837, 1838, aud 1839, are
imperfect, some vandal having defaced
them. The record for 1840, however, is
complete. Rev. Wm. M. Wightman, P. E.,
John H. Zimmerman, P. C. This year
there was a surplus sent to Conference.
Here are the collections in detail: Ander
son C. H., $27.75 ; Smith’s Chapel, SIO.OO ;
Bethel, $6.62.} ; Bethesda, $9.00; Rhuha
ma, $13.25; Asbury Chapel, $10.25 ; Sandy
Springs,sl4.94 ; Sword’s, $1.25 ; Pendleton,
$13.25; Mt. Zion, $10.60; Sharon, 57.00;
Wesley Chapel, $6.25; Lynn’s, $1,00;
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & COMPANY, FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH,
Siler’s, $8.25 ; Providence, $21.26. Aggre
gate, $166,564.
APPROPRIATION.
Presiding Elder ...,...$35 50
Traveling Expenses 3 50—539 00
P. C.. Quarterage 100 00
Traveling Expenses... 16 00—5155 00
Shoeing horse 1 31J
Sent to Conference 10 25
$166 56J
The observant reader will find the account
does not balance by one quarter of a cent;
but put the Sandy Springs’ collection at
$14.93J (doubtless the correct amount,which
an exuberant liberality made $14.94), and
the discrepancy at once disappears. In 1841
tbe whole amount collected was $204.75. In
1842, to pay three preachers, $253.92. In
1843, $303.69.
This closes the record, and is sufficient to
show that the ministry, at this time at least,
was not burthensoine ; and most of all, that
these servants of the Church were certainly
not lovers of filthy lucre.
A. M. Chrietzberg.
WHAT IS SANCTIFICATION l
Mr. Editor: The following is what seems
to me to be the truth about sanctification. It
is a condition to which all Christians are in
vited, and must come, iu the course of a true
and faithful Christian life. When the sinner,
humbly, penitently, and trustingly, comes to
God through Christ, praying the forgiveness
of his sins, he is forgiven. This is called jus
tification in our theology, so that being for
given and being justified, are, iu substance,
the same thing. But this does not change
the heart. That is a work altogether differ
ent, and is wbat Christ told Nicodemus must
take place in all that would “see the King
dom of Heaveu.” It is what we call regen
eration. “Ye must be born again.” It is
an inward spiritual change that is put into
operation at the time we are forgiven, par
doned, justified. By it we come into the
possession of anew principle, an inward di
vine gift, through the divine Spirit, which is
as a leaven in the soul, intended to “leaven
the whole lump. So then wbat God does
“for us” in justification is to forgive us.
What he does “in us” by regeneration, is to
change us. Whereas formerly, we were un
der “tbe law of sin and death,” we now are
put under anew law, called by St. Paul,
“the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus;”
and by it we are to be made “free from the
law of sin and death.” Being regenerated
do we remain still? No, we go forward, and
are commanded to “grow in grace, and in
the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Je
sus Christ.” The new born convert, is like
the new born infant, complete as an infant,
as a “babe in Christ,” but destined to grow
up to’ maturity, as the infant grows to man
hood. In the course of this growth lie many
Christian graces, which are mentioned in the
Scriptures, to all of which we are called and
enjoined. Among these, are principally and
prominently urged on us, sanctification, per
fection, holiness, as conditions or states of
Christian attainment, which lie within our
reach. We come to them by growth, as the
infant comes to strength and maturity by it.
We do not obtain these by sudden leaps, but
by gradual development. Not by sudden
answer to prayer and faith, yet never with
out them, for they are the common life and
inheritance of all true Christians. But God
has not confined the attainment of Christian
graces and Christian strength exclusively to
these. He has made all of life , and all of
human experience, tributary to these great
ends. Whether life or death, prosperity or
adversity, joy or grief, temptation or trial,
loss or gain, indeed everything of every kind,
is to be our help and uplifter in the divine
life, for “all things are yours , and ye are
Christ's, and Christ is God's." Oh, the
unspeakable privilege of the Christian. No
other philosophy claims it. It is the pecu
liar inheritance of the Christian alone. All
things help him, all things strengthen him,
comfort him, purify him, raise him higher,—
if they are rightly used 1
In the course of this blessed experience,
we are brought into seasoiis of peculiar com
fort, and are liable to think that at such mo
ments, peculiar and sudden gifts are given—
say sanctification was bestowed, perfection
was given, holiness was imparted. It is a
great and misleading mistake. These are all
reached by growth and advancement, not by
sudden gift. It is of infinite wisdom that
such is the case. God has impressed it, as a
law of nature as well as one of grace. The
things that are most valuable, and most use
ful, in nature, and most eoduring, are the re
sult of growth, not of sudden creation. So
it is in grace, and thus it is that the divine
Being has impressed, in infinite wisdom, the
same law, both in the kingdom of nature
and of grace. We “grow up into Him our
living Head in all things,” and in the course
of it come into conditions spoken of as, holi
ness unto the Lord, sanctification, and per
fection.
While the foregoing is the common be
lief, what a pity it is, that all Methodists are
not agreed on this subject. How much more
comfortable, as well as creditable, it would
be. Enquirer.
BEWARE OF DOGS.
Mr. Editor : A great deal has been said of
late in the secular press about the dogs of
our State; and surely the charges have beeu
numerous an! grave enough to justify the
hanging of the last one of them. But the
bill of indictment is not yet complete, and
the gravest count has not been pressed upon
public attention. *
It is a. startling and humiliating fact, that
throughout the land, more money is expend
ed on dogs than upon preachers of the Gos
pel 1 The census of 1875 shows that the
dogs in the Union cost $10,000,000, while
the preachers receive $6,000,000. If we lake
the census of our own Church, we will find that
the dogs cost us more than the clergy. What is
to be thought of a circuit that pays its preach
er $125 for one hundred sermons and twelve
hundred miles of travel, and at the same time
pays out SSOO for a set of worthless curs ?
“Facts are stubborn things,” and scarcely a
circuit in the North Georgia Conference is
free from the righteous odium of paying more
for dogs than|for the preaching of the Gospel.
This same discreditable state of things doubt
less exists in the other Conferences.
I know a circuit with 718 members, em
braced in 180 families. Each of these fam
iles owns at least, one dog, which costs $lO
per annum, besides what it destroys. Here
are SI,BOO paid for dogs, -while at the same
time those Methodists pay one of the best
preachers in the Conference $750. Surely
this circuit, the best iu the District with
which it is connected, with wealth aggregat
ing $150,000, is setting a very pernicious ex
ample to the weaker ones Just think of it.
Can it be true that we think more of dogs
than we do of the holy, consecrated men of
God, who have forsaken all, sacrificed all to
serve us 1 If this be so, well may these
preachers exclaim, “To what ends we
come at last,”
MACON, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 5, 1876.
Georgia, there are 1363 dogs, costing yearly
$13,630; and .yet, though the aggregate prop
erty of that county, leaving out the wild
lands, is reported by the Comptroller at"
$4,115,010, the entire clergy of the county
receive less than SIO,OOO annually. What a
record is this for professedly Christian people.
Still it is to be feared that many other coun
ties are doing no better, and some even worse.- -
These shameful figures ought to work a re
formation. Let every Methodist seriously
ponder them when he determines how much
he will pay his preacher. , L.
STICK TO THE TEXT, BRETHREN.
The question is—Does the law require the
stewards to make an “ allowance ” for their
pastor's support on the basis of his necessi
ties, or the ability of the circuit? Neitaer
one of the three respondents has touched
the text, so far as an answer to the question
is concerned.
Now, I believe that the law intends their
action to be on the basis of his (the pastor's)
necessities, e. g. if it will take SI,OOO to
support him, and the circuit is only
pay SSOO, I believe the law makes it the
duty of his Board to assess the charge SI,OOO,
and not SSOO. Then, if they do their best,
and every member does his or her best, and
they are only able to raise in the aggregate
$500; they stand acquitted in the sight of
God, though the preacher may be only half
supported. And this, upon the Pauline
principle that —“ If there be first a willing
mind, it is accepted of the according
to wbat a man hath, and not according to
what he bath not.”
I say nothing for the present as to the wis
dom of the law, for I stand in doubt of it.
That the basis of action on the part of many
Boards is according to “ ability,” instead of
“necessity,” I readily admit; and that the
tendency is more and more in that direction, ’
I think is equally true. One reason, besides
others, perhaps, is because it has come to
pass that whatever they promise, the preacher
feels they ought to pay ; and if they do not,
he feels that somebody has failed to do their
duty, and he, as a consequence, is the suf- -
ferer.
Now, what I want is, that this matter
should be anthoritatively settled, one way or
the other; and then, as we are a connec
tional Church, let all hands govern them
selves accordingly. If the law is wrong-r
chauge it—and the sooner the better—but
until theu, let us abide by it as it is.
I am no apologist for the sin of any cir
cuit or station, who having the ability, yet
withhold a competent living from their min
ister. I, for one, am not afraid to say that
such conduct is downright dishonesty. Per
haps no preacher of my age can say morel
than I can : —ln the fourteen years of my
ministry—except the three years I served as
chaplain in the army—l have never received
in full, what my Board of Stewards have al
lowed me iu gny one year. And yet, I have
served the Church in every position in the
regular pastorate —circuit, station, and mis
sion—except as Presiding Elder. During
that time I have received over one
persons into the Church, and if there lias
ever been any complaint against me from
any source, it has never come to my ears.
And yet I am conscious of many failures ;
but, I thank my Master, uo willful ones. ,
March 22, 1876. Vox.
A HURTFUL LUST.
Mr. Editor : Ministers enjoy no exemp
tion from temptation to pride and vanity.
On one occasion a gentleman who was a reg
ular attendant at Robert Hall’s church, met
him at the foot of the pulpit-stairs and
grasping the hand of the illustrious preacher,
said, with great warmth of manner: “ Mr.
Hall, allow me to say that the sermon just
preached is the grandest I have ever heard
from you or any other man.” “ Thank you,
sir,” the gifted preacher replied ; “ the devil
told me that before I left the pulpit.”
The devil talks to some of us in the same
way, even when we don’t happen 1o preach
as magnificent sermons as Robert Hall used
to preach, and we are so silly as to open our
ears wide to the pleasing lie.
I was once taken down. It occurred sev
eral years ago, when I held a much better
opinion of my abilities than I do now. “That
is the best missionary sermon I have ever
listened to,” said a gentleman, stopping me
as I was going down the aisle ; “ and. sir, I
must give you something for the missionary
cause.” With quite an air, he handed me a
dollar. Well, I mused as I rode along, if
that donation represents the literary value of
that sermon, it certainly gives me no cause
for vanity and self-conceit. I saw the ser-’
mon in the light of the compliment, and it
looked quite tame and commonplace. The
idle, sinful passion was driven away ; and I
reckon the contribution did me as much good
as it did the missionary cause.
Pious people who have sound sense are
deeply mortified whenever they are forced to
witness any exhibition on the part of a min
ister of these pitiful weaknesses. It is really
a humiliating sight. A minister show-4tf
great disadvantage when his ear is attuned
to the dulcet sound of praise, and he seeks
to get it, by tbe dexterous use of all sorts of
artful ways. If one has a just sense of the
sacredness and dignity of the ministerial
office, there is no practice, below the grade
of criminal, better calculated to impair and
destroy that feeling than that of fishing for
compliments. He may catch them, and
very often does, especially if it is generally
known that he is fond of them ; but even
those who take his ingenious hints, do so be
cause it affords them amusement to play upon
the puerile weakness. The minister who
thus compromits his dignity and self-respect,
receives a large quantity of compliments
that are wholly insincere, utterly worthless.
He gets hollow flattery when he thinks he is
getting hearty admiration.
If a minister of the gospel forfeits the re
spect that well-bred persons are pleased to
entertain for all who worthily occupy that
holy office, by seeking and soliciting compli-’
ments, how much more offensive is he who
is given to sounding his own praise ? This
is abominable. It fills the healthy mind ai>
righteous soul with intense sorrow and pain
ful disgust. It exposes a man to the scorn
and contempt of those who are greatly infe
rior to him in every respect. People of
mean spirit rejoice over his infirmity; while
those who appreciate his good qualities and
admire his talents rather avoid than court
his company. It is possible to endure his
egstism, but impossible to enjoy it. The
man who blows his own trumpet may be a
very skillful performer, but somehow or
other, he never ravishes the soul with the
music he makes. Let someone else blow
the same trumpet, and the difference is at
once perceived. As the ear drinks in the
melodious sounds, it can hardly believe that
it is the same instrument. A generous mind
delights in the praise of the deserving; but
a man detracts from his real merits by praia-
■4ng himself, or by being too greedy of tha
praise of others. A minister may blow the
gospel trumpet as loudly as he pleases—the
louder the better—so long as he produces
intelligible sounds; but let him not blow his
own trumpet. For he cannot make the
sound sweet though he blows till he burs's.
_ B.
RELIGION VS. WORLDLINESS.
Mr. Editor: I observe that a corres
pondent of the Advocate deprecates tbe
use of “ hot suppers, entertainments,” etc.,
for raising funds for enterprises of the
Church. I ask, why has the Church to re
sort to such means ? Is it not because of tbe
want of vital piety in her members ? How
true the adage, “ Conversion that does not
reach heart, pocket-book, and all, is not
genuine.” The Christian is called upon to
deny self, bear the cross, assist the poor,
and contribute to the welfare of the Church.
To any appeal for help, he feels bound to
respond according to bis ability, and the
urgency of the case. But alas 1 how is it
now ? Hear the appeals for help ever and
anon ringing through the Church papers from
K l2inftry, Port Royal, and Camden, but how
few responses. Yet when “ the lust of the
flesh,” and “eye,” call for tobacco, luxuries,
amusements, etc., how quickly are they
gratified And such persons regard them
selves Christians. These brethren, of the
above named places, I say, have been appeal
ing to our Christian sympathies and charity,
in order to carry on these grand enterprises
of the Cbnrch. If we withhold, and they,
in their energy and zeal for tbe cause of God,
are driven to the necessity of giving “ hot
suppers” and entertainments to raise money,
upon whom will rest the blame? Brethren,
will it not rpst on us who will not assist them,
and not upon them whom necessity compels ?
Is it not a burning shame upon the Church
to allow these appeals for help to be disre
garded, and thus, to drive our needy breth
ren to the world for assistance? The world
helps its own—many Christian professors
help the world—freely and bountifully ; but
when Christianity calls, how soon is the
alarm sounded “ money is very scarce.”
is not too scarce to buy tobacco, go to
theatres, balls, hot suppers, or excursions to
centennials, legerdemain performances, t*
erect monuments, etc., etc.; but when a
church is to be built, or a college endowed,_
the sad alarm is given. Where is the reli
gion of Jesus? By our example the world
is hardened in its iniquity, the unbeliever
established iu unbelief, scoffers rejoice, the
enemies of God shout, in triumph, aud Jesus
is wounded in the house of his friends.
Santee.
“A STITCH IN TIME SAVES NINE.”
The following incident, I think, ought not
be lost. I would be glad to know that none
of our people need it in the present epoch
of civilization.
Alittletown in—well I will notcall names,
—had been about deserted by the Methodist
preachers, because no one would invite them
home to dinner after preaching.
A preacher, (a man after his own head,)
took in ar e situation, aud determined on bring
ing about a change in that place. He was a
man of parts, loved the Church, was zealous,
and did not know how to surrender. Pass
ing through the little town on a certain occa
sion, he engaged a hand to go to the Acade
my on a certain Sunday morning, and ring
the bell loDg and loud, and announce to all
inquirers that they would have Methodist
preaching in the town that day.
The day came, and brought the preacher,
and a crowd of the curious. Said the preacher,
on opening the service, “we will first read a
chapter from the Old Testament, and one
from the New, during which you will all keep
your seats. We will then give out a hymn.
We will read over the hymn first, and then
go baek and read the two first lines, after
which someone will set the tune. We will
stand up and sing. After the hymn, prayer;
during which, we will all kneel. After pray
er, we will give out another hymn, reading it
as before. During the singing of the second
hymn, you will all keep your seats. Mind
you 1 Stand up the first hymn, sit down the
second. I will then announce my text, and
preach as I may be able. After the sermon,
we will have another song,-—the lining as be
fore —during which you will all stand. After
this hymn, prayer again, during which all
will kneel as before. I will then make any
announcements that l may wish to make,
after which we will all stand and sing the
doxology, and be dismissed; and then, some
one will come up and ask me to go home with
him to dinner and I will go."
Matters were less wood-bound about there
after that. Jonas.
Bermuda Hundreds.
Stltriiffits.
FAITH TRANSFIGURED.
We sometimes speak of faith aa a thing
that perishes, and of hope as that which shall
cease; bet* l*B*faith will end in sight when
we pass frbra this world of probation, and
hope will be swallowed up in enjoyment. I
would represent it a little differently. I
would rather say that the Lord must exer
cise our faith all through this painful life of
discipline; and when the end comes the faith
does not perish, but is transfigured —remains
us a principle in our nature forever, as a
habit of the soul which has been perfectly
formed through long and severe exercise;
until at last we are so woven into Jesus
Christ as that never, through all the ages
that are to come, shall it be possible to sepa
rate us from Him who is our Head. Tl ese
thoughts, these affections, these expanding
desires, of ours, are like so many filaments
or threads springing out from us and laying
hold upon Jesus Christ, all woven into a
celestial texture or web in Him—our faith
refined, transfigured, glorified, forming an
eternal principle, knitting us to the person
of our Lord, so that He and we shall be one
forevermore. And hope ceases, but ceases
because it is transfigured—hope, which is
now ardent expectation and longing desire
and believing trust, transfigured at last into
the conscious enjoyment of a perfect posses
sion. The hope enters into the eternal en
joyment of what we hoped for; and the faith,
through which we clung to Jesus Christ, en
ters upon the sight of Him, as we look upon
His face and rejoice in his glory forever.
Hence it is that God puts us into the
kneading through, and with the knuckles of
a hard discipline, kneads us and presses us,
and works into us the principles of holiness;
making us strong on earth to do His will,
mighty to resist temptation, brave to go forth
in battle and conquer this world for the Mas
ter who is our Head; and then equally strong,
with a perfectly formed character, to dwell
in the presence of the Lamb forever. It is
the fundamental law of the creature, placed
under the trial of obedience, that he shall,
by the practice of virtue, acquire character.
Therefore, under law and under grace, God
subjects us precisely to the process by which,
in the exercise of faith, in the practice of
hope, in the cultivation of every Christian
grace, we may rise at last with a complete
character, which will remain throughout
eternity. Then, brethren, do not from this
moment ever say, “I wonder why God afflicts
me thus, or so.” Never say, even in thought,
“I wonder why God blows upon my industry,
and turns my wealth to ashes. I wonder
why God disappoints my toil; and subjects
me to a life of privation and pain.” Never
express surprise that death comes into your
homes, aud takes away from you those who
are dearest to your heart. It is in the Lord’s
way of training His people, fixing a charac
ter in them which shall be indelible, that so,
by our transfigured faith, we may behold our
Lord; and, by our transfigured hope, may
enter upon the enjoyment of the inheritance
which He has purchased for ns.
See the relation which all this has to death.
“Flesh aud blood cannot inherit the King
dom of God,” and therefore the grave. In
Enoch, whom God took; in Elijah, who was
borne to heaven in a chariot of flame; and
in those who, remnining upon the earth at
the second coining of our Lord, shall be
changed iu the twinkling of an eye; you un
detstand that even those who do not technic
ally die or go down into the grave, mu-t pass
through a stupendous change, in which they
lay down the natural body and acquire the
spiritual. God is a spirit, and the home
which He prepares for us is a spiritual home;
and there must be the transformation of the
natural into the spiritual. Therefore Paul
reasons that, as we have borne the image of
the earthly, we shall also bear the image of
the heavenly; that, as we are born of the first
Adam and wear his flesh and blood, so being
born of the second Adam through the quick
ening of the Holy Spirit, we shall bear His
image in the resurrection. If we must, in
our sorrow, say to the earth, “Thou art my
mother,” and to the worm, “Thou art my
sister,” add, in the triumphant language of
Job, “Though after my skin worms de-troy
this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God;
whom I shall see for inyself, and mine eyes
shall behold, and not another.” The grave
is only the laboratory where God takes to
pieces the earthly body, and purges from
every part of it the leprosy of sin. But the
Holy Ghost, the Quickener, goes down with
the redeemed into that grave, and keeps His
eternal vigil over that sleeping )dust; and
when the trumpet shall sound and the voice
of the archangel shall be heard, He shall
quicken that dust so that it shall rise a spir
itual body, to be present forever with the
Lord. Let it not terrify you if, in the lim
gunge of Jeremy Taylor, you are to be
“clothed with all the dishonors and cor
ruption of the tomb.” Tt is only that “our
vile body may be.fashioned like unto his glo
rious body, according to the working where
by he is able even to subdue all things unto
hiuisfclf.”— llr. Palmer's Discourses.
MR. MOODY’S MEETINGS.
At one of the earliest inquiry-meetings in
connection with the work of the evangelists,
a young man said to a person with whom he
was conversing. “I tell you I have tried be
ing bad. I have been as wicked as a man of
my years could be. I remember the day
when one of the very men who labors here
in this inquiry room was the superintendent
of my Sunday School, where I was taught
to do right, but I have neglected and forgot
ten all that, aud tried every sin I could find,
but I tell you,” he repeated with great ener
gy, “it don’t pay 1”
Over and over again have these words been
echoed, in effect, since that night. It is not
alone some poor fellow who finds himself
hungry and ragged and dirty—some prodigal
who cannot find the swine to feed, nor the
husks to eat, who brings into the inquiry
room his testimony that “wickedness don’t
pay;” but we hear the same admission just
now from tbe high places of the earth, as one
after another the men and women step “down
and out,” disgraced and distressed over the
failure of their schemes for personal and
selfish gain at the price of honor and truth.
There is something very pitiful in the sto
ries we read as we turn, page after page, the
record of the men we have called great, and
whom we have believed to be true. How
mercilessly at last they are forced to “walk
in the light,” and what revalations the light
is making? It is not easy for us to realize
that the statesman at ease in his elegant
home in the capital, and the poor boy out
at elbows, fidgeting uneasily in the presence
ofhonesteyes as he sits on the hard benches
of the inquiry room, are both smitten by the
same serpent, both poisoned by the same
curse, both in different stages of the same
disease, and both finding out that “sin dou’t
pay 1” We may not be able to follow the
chain slipping our hands from link to link,
yet there is a connection between the two,
for both the same moral malady, for both,
thank God, the same cure I There is some
thing in the contemplation of the iniquity
and corruption coming to light daily in the
very places where we had a right to look for
a high moral standard, that has a powerful
effect on the public mind. It really seems to
be, to use the old stereotyped phrase, “un
der conviction of sin,” or conscious that it
ought te be. People seem to be alive to the
fact that “sin don’t pay,” and men need
to be made better. To this puhlic senti
ment is largely due the reverence with which
the present religious movement is regarded,
even by men who do not sympathize with its
doctrinal peculiarities. Cavil is quiet; criti
cism is respectful; ridicule is silenced, and
violent opposition is almost unknown. All
minor considerations are set aside; all sec
tarian sentiment keeps in the background,
and denominations unite in welcoming any
thing that will lift men up and help them to
be truer and better.
The world seems willing, too, that God
should do His work in His own way. If He
chooses to dispense with the results of years
of culture and study, and to use the man who
is so full of longing to have other men sav
ed that he cannot wait for the appropriate
machinery, “what is that to thee?” The
fires of sin have been burning and the smoke
has been rising a long time; and while the
great brotherhood of the Lord's appointed
have keen sounding the alarm, awakening
from their slumbers, donning a uniform of
black coats and white ties, getting out the
engines and preparing for attack, in rushes
a strong-armed, earnest-hearted fellow, who
leans down till his bucket touches the very
bottom of the well of salvation, and he draws
up with resolute arms the “living water,”
and pours it swiftly and strongly into the
hot heart of sin’s consuming fire. His eyes
seem to see through the smoke the brands to
be plucked from the burning, and, while oth
ers are getting ready, he has drawn them to
a place of safety—left them in the shadow of
the great Rock —and gone back for another.
Someone objects that his “voice ia not
trained and pure as an orator’s voice should
be.” No matter! God freights it with a
stream of loving words, and it bears them to
sinners’ hearts. One says, “his gestures
have no grace.” No matter 1 God is offered
by the outstretched bauds, and the people
look at what they briug. and not at the man
ner of their bringing. “He misuses English,”
says another. No matter! the language of
the Spirit to the soul is not necessarily Eng
lish, and God can work without grammar as
well as with it. Oratory and eloquence of
tongue and manner are well; culture is well;
but if God chooses to use the “weak things
of the world to confound the mighty,” let
us assent, and be still. Let us, men who
love our country ‘and long to see honesty
aud justice and truth once more reinstated
in her councils, bid God-speed to anything
which has a tendency to uplift and to aave ?
Mr. Moody said, a day or two ago, “I am
overwhelmed with my work. I was here
nine hours yesterday, much of the time en
gaged in teaching men how to cease to do
evil, and how to learn to do well. More
than twenty self-acknowledged thieves and
burglars are waiting to he taught.”
“Ah, but some professed penitent picked
a pocket here, did he not?”
“I don’t know. A pocket was picked,
but if one did do that, what about the other
nineteen? Ah, if the nineteen fall again, and
we save onel One thief less is a blessing to
the land.”
And so, indeed, it is! whether we fied
him in a foreign capital, or in Washington,
or in the Church, or in some den of infamy
or shame, or in tbe inquiry-meeting of the
Hippodrome, one less is a blessing to the
laud. Of the two classes, the high and the
low, it seems as if the high were most to be
pitied; for the lowly road of honest confes
sion is far harder for such to take. God
speed all and every work that helps men to
know the truth about each other and about
themselves, and that brings the whole world
rapidly to the conviction that “siu don’t
pay 1” — Zion's Herald.
WHAT IS THAT TO THEE I
BY THOMAS D. JAMBS.
I would not vttiuly choose
What road should lead me up the holy mouu
talu,
Whai path conduct me to the crystal fountain ;
Nor willing be to lose
Tbe guidance of the lliud that e’er has led
In ways I knew not, but with mercies spread.
When I am called to die,
To yield my spi -it to his sacred keeping,
To rest my body in the long, long sleeping,
1 fain would not belie
My trust in him who doeth all things well.
Whose will alone my every wish should quell.
If gentle be the call,
If faint ana feeble be the distant warning,
Like dimmest daystreik of the early morning
Tipping at the pine tree tall,
Aud brighter growing till the red east shines
With fullest glory on the glowing pines,
How grateful should 1 feel!
That I might still behold my loved ones longer,
Might tarry till my timid faith grew stronger.
Might linger to reveal
The loves that buoyant life can ne’er reveal—
Like odors evening only can exhale.
If sadden he the stroke,
If all uuheralded his solemn coming.
Like Hash, fast followed by the thunder’s
booming.
That scathes the skyward oak,
While pale witli fear we hold our bated breath,
111 awe of the swift messeuger of death.
How blest the favored lot!
A lot to few departed spirits given,
Painless to pass from earth aud sin to heaven.
O! surely it were not
Departure we should dread, at once to rise
On whirlwind pinions to the open skies.
So I repose my trust;
And whether speedy messenger obeying,
Or waiting patiently my Lord’s delaying
To summon me to rest
On his dear love my willing soul would dwell:
He knoweth best—he doeth all things well.
HOW TO CONSOLE.
Now, then, have any of you a friend who
has lost a dear friend? A father who has lost
a dear son? A husband who has lost a dear
wife? A mother who has lost her only daugh
ter or her only son ? Any one who has lost
one precious to them ? Do not imagine you
can console them by praying over them as
people talk about. Do not imagine you can
console them by going down —1 don’t know
how to express it—for what can you say in
the presence of this grief-stricken people?
Igo into the presence of this woman and I
tell her that she must learn that her child can
not die. “If it is nof death,” she says, “then
why have I been grieving so?” I have heard
that time and time again, when the light has
shone in and illumined the darkness of a soul
“If it is not, then what am I grieving for?”
I say, “Surely, madam, I can not tell you,
unless you wish her with you every day, and
her absence even for a day is, I admit, cause
for grief, but not for grieving as those who
grieve without hope.” Go and tell her, then,
that no one has died, no life has stopped, no
spirit has been extinguished, no being has
been blotted out; that the locality of life has
been changed and that separation from you
has taken place, but she may rest assured the
separation has put her daughter into a finer
care and a better guardianship than hers
could be. Out of this line of thought comes
consolation, the consolation of the Gospel.
Pretty soon your friend will say, “She has
been dead a year and I am a year nearer to
her, and I presume that five or ten years more
will bring me to her, and I feel that God wilt
uphold me by this thought and mood." And
when you come to see your friend again in a
month or two you will find that God has up
held her. How? Out of her own capacity
to appreciate the Gospel truth rightly, God
will have ministered consolation to her soul,
and in no other way.— Golden liule.
RESULTS OF THE CHURCH DEBT SYS
TEM.
The first result, perhaps, is the extinguish
ment of all beneficence. The Church debt
is the apology for denying all appeals for aid
from all the greater or smaller charities. A
Church sitting in the shadow of a great debt
is “ not at home” to callers. They do uot
pay the debt, but they owe the money, and
they are afraid that they shall be obliged to
pay it. The heathen must take care of them
selves, tbe starving must go without bread the
widow and the fatherless must look to the
God of the widow and fatherless, the sick must
pine, and the poor children grow up in vaga
bondage, because of this awful Church debt
Again, a Church debt ia a scare-crow to all
new comers. A stranger taking up his resi
dence in any town, looks naturally for a
Church without a debt. He has a horror of
debt of any sort, perhaps, and, as he had no
responsibility for the Church-debts he finds,
he does not propose to assume any. So he
stays away from the debt-ridden Church, and
the very means that were adopted to make
the edifice attractive, become, naturally and
inevitably, the agents of repulsion.
Still again, Church debts are intolerable
burdens to their ministers. They must
“draw,” in order that the debt may be paid.
If they do cot "draw,” they must leave, to
make place for a man who will. The yearly
deficit is an awful thing for a sensitive mini
ter to contemplate, and puts him under a con
stant and cruel spur, which, sometimes swift
ly and sometimes slowly, wears out his life.—
Dr, IMland, in Scribner,
F. M. KENNEDY, I). D., Editor.
J. W. BURKE, Assistant Editor.
A. G. HAYGOOD, D. D-, Editorial Correspondent.
WHOLE NUMBER 1989.
MISCELLANEA.
It is sta’ed that 127 of the 232 Congrega
tional churches in Connecticut allow women
to vote upon all Church questions, and the
remaining 105 permit their voting upon cer
tain occasions.
A fund of £lO 000 has been raised in
England to aid Jewish mechanics in Pales
tine to erect houses outside of Jerusalem,
and encourage those who express a desire
to follow agricultural pursuits.
Tiie American Palestine Exploration So.
ciety are about to publish photographic views
of t he remains of cities on the east side of tbe
Jordan, and other objects of note and interest.
Some of the localities have been identified as
mentioned in the Scriptures. These views
will be anticipated by biblical students with
great interest.
Canada papers announce that Rev. Geo.
MacDougall, Methodist missionary to the
Indians of Manitoba, was lost in a severe
storm about the last of January, and unques
tionably perished. He had labored among
the Indians for fifteen years, and to bis in
fluence with them were largely due the peace
ful relations that the Canadian government
was enabled to maintain with them.
Robert Mimi-kiss, the noted author of
“The Gospel Harmony,” and promoter of
the Sunday-school cause in England, died
recently at the age of eighty. Tbe London
Christian World says the person and work of
Christ was his constant theme; and his own
pure and gentle life was, to not a few, the
most powerful of sermons. His last words
were, “Saved, saved!”
Says the N. Y. Evangelist: “The gracious
outpouring of God’s Spirit, which has attend,
ed the recent labors of Messrs. Moody and
Sankey in Philadelphia, has been manifest
not only in the increased spiritual life of
God’s people, and their intense desire for the
salvation of others, but also in the numbers
of young converts who are at this time con
necting themselves with the Churches.”
The First American Sunday-school Con.
gress was held at Plainfield, N. J., March
6-10. Dr. Vincent very properly presided.
Bishop Simpson, Dr. Deems, Dr. Hall, and
other notable men of various Confessions,
took purt in the proceedings. Both the
theory and the practice of Sunday-school
work were discussed with great earnestness
and ability, and religious exercises wer.
liberally interspersed through the session. 1*
iB thought that the good cause will receive a
great impulse from this “Congress.”
The Lutheran General Council prohibits
members of other denominations from preach
ing in Lutheran pulpits. This step has led
to inquiries as to tbe extent of the powers of
the Council. An indignant Lutheran puts
the case: “If we have close communion and
an exclusive pulpit this year,” he reasons,
“we may have the secret Bociety dogma next
year, and a mandate on usury the next; theu
a law on wines, or one regulatiug meat on
Friday aud other days; then the number of
buttons on the shitt, and the length of tha
coat tails.”
The Supreme Court of Illinois has declared
vilid the Lijuiuli at' the lute S. 44. Griffith,
of that State, on the ground that foreign cor
porations cannot hold real estate ill Illinois.
In fulfillment of a vow made to the Lord in
times of financial distress, he left in his will
about $50,000 worth of real estate to the
American Bible Society, American Tract
Society, and Methodist Church Extension
Board. It would have been well if the testa
tor had remembered the words: “I will psy
my vows unto the Lord now, in the presence
of all his people.”
The Philadelphia Bulletin says that a cat
alogue of the crimes committed in the New
England States during the paßt few years, if
it could be made with any degree of accura
cy, would shame those of all others into in.
significance, not ouly by their number, but
by the boldness and ingenuity that marked
them. Murder, robbery, and peculation, to
say nothing of smaller offenses, have been
done in ways so novel as to deserve for theiu
the title of works of genius. It would ap
pear to be rather a bad turn that the Yankee
intellect has taken.
The London Methodist says a good deal of
diversity exists among English Wesleyans aa
to the mode of lay representation in the Con
ference, and that the utmost mutual forbear
ance will be required on all sides in order to
a satisfactory aud permanent settlement of
the question. At preseut the Conference
consists exclusively of ministers who assem
ble sometimes to the number of seven or
eight hundred. Is an equal number of lay
men to be admitted? If so, what can be
done with so unwieldy a deliberative body f
The only method of settling the question ia
to have two Conferences, one clerical and the
other mixed. But how to relate the mixed
Conference and tbe clerical to the great high
est legislative body, the legal hundred, is uot
plain.
Daniel Drew's FAii.URE.-Hia liabilities
are reported at $1,146,027, in which are in
cluded unsecured notes of SIOO,OOO for tha
endowment of tbe Wesleyan University,
Middletown, Connecticut; aud of $260,000
for the endowment of Drew Theological
Seminary, Madison, New Jertey. His assela
amount to $744,499.46. In addition to tha
sums due the University aud tbe Seminary,
there are the unsecured liabilities, amount iug
to between SIOO,OOO to $200,000. Hence,
the sums due these institutions are a total
loss. These amounts were donations made
by Mr. Drew in his days of financial pros
perity, in the form of personal notes, aud
upou which he has paid the interest for a
number of years. Mr. Drew is suffering from
ill health, from the infirmities of age, tha
recent death of his wife, and hopeless finan
cial misfortunes.
The Oldest Bible Manuscripts. —The two
most ancieDt manuscripts of the Bible known
are the Codex Sinaiticus of the Imperial
Library of St. Petersburgh, aud the Codex
Vaticamis of the Vatican Library at Rome,
both of which are believed to have been writ
ten about tbe middle of the fourth certary,
A.D. Tbe Sinaiticus, so called because it
was obtained (in 1859) from the convent of
St. Catharine on Mount Sinai, is supposed by
Tischendorf, its discoverer, to be one of th®
fifty copies of the Scriptures which the Em
peror Conatautine directed to be made for
Byzantium, in the year 331, under the care
of Eusebius of Cmsarea. It consists of 354}
leaves of very fine vellum, made either from
the skins of antelopes or of asses, each leaf
being 14 7-8 inches high by 13} inches wide.
The early history of the Vatican manuscript
is not known, but it appears in the first cata
logue of the Vatican Library in 1475. It is
a quarto volume, containing 146 leaves of
fine thin vellum, each 10} inches high and IQ
broad. Both manuscripts are written ia
Greek uncials, or capital letters, are without
spaces between the words, and have no mark®
of punctuation. — Appleton's American C]/'
clopcedia, revised edition , article "Mam±
scrijpt