Newspaper Page Text
TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS.
feir.
VOLUME XXXIX., NO. 44.
IJoctnj.
EVENING HYMN.
Sivion ! tilc.-s u- *•- ko :
Thy w rtis imo our minds Ur til;
And in ke in lukewarm he a t- to glow
VVi h lowly love ami f ivent will.
Through life’s 1 *nj< ay and 4ea h’s dark niiiht,
O, gentle J bus ! be our .i^bt.
The day is done ; its hours have run;
And Thou hast taken count of all
T ie semty triumphs izr ce hath won,
The brok-n v iw, the fr q ient fall
Through long day anu death’s dirk night,
O, gentle Jesu*! b: our light.
Grant us and ar Lord ! from all our ways
True a solution ;nd rei ase;
And bless us more hao in p st days
With p iriry and iaward p *ace.
Through life’- long day *ind deaih’s dark night,
(>, g ntle Je.-us! be our light.
Labor is sweet, for Thou hast toiled,
And ca-e is i glr, for Thou hast cared ;
Let not ur wo. ks w ith s -If b: .-oiled,
N >r our unsimple ways b** snar- and.
Through life’s long and death’s dark night,
O, gentle Jesus ! be our light.
For all we love—the poor, the sad.
The si'jfu -unto Thee w* call ;
O let Tuy incr. y make u- glad !
Thou art our Je.-u- and our all.
Through life’s long day and and ath’s dark night,
O, gentle Jesus ! be our light.
Corrcsponkntt.
FOREIGN LETTER.
I)r. Rigg, in 'lie current number of the Con
temporary Review, tries to quadrate Wesley’s
Church-membership wi ll that of the Broad
Church party of to day. He quotes from a
letter, which was written by Wesley, the fol
lowing words: “I find more profit in ser
mons on either good tempers or good wotks,
than what are vulgarly called gospel ser
mons. The term has become a mere cant
word. It has no determinate meaning. Ret
but a pert self-sufficient animat, that his
neither sense nor grace, bawl out something
about Christ, or Hi.s blood, or justification by
faith, and his hearers cry out, ‘What a fine
gospel sermon.’ ” The prominent traits of
the preaching of the Row Church or Evan
gelical party, are those things which are re
ferred to in this quotation, and therefore Dr.
Rigg infers that, Wesley had little, if any,
sympathy with them. The present
as far as distinctive nomenclature goes, had
no existence in Wesley’s day, and therefore
his words, rt-lerred to the preaching of Dis
senters, fur whom he had never much sym
pathy or respect. There is much truth in his
words ; hut it is possible tha', the present is
not an opportune time to quote and give them
prominence. The majority of the sermons of
the present day are not over-freighted with
the gospel. Christ may be mentioned, but
where or in what connectioivit would be dif
ficult to discover. Ret, us by all means have
gospel sermons. They are needed. Such
discours‘B include good works as well as
faith, and good tempers as well as grace.
During the past year, the Biole Christians,
the smallest of the Methodist bodies here, had
an increase of over 2,000. Their statistics
show 284 itinerant preachers; 890 chapels;
28,945 members; and 51.058 Sunday school
scholars. The profits of the book room were
£582, and the Missionary income was £8,300.
The Primitive Methodist body b.-gan its
existence in 1810, with ten members ; now
it comprises 176,805 members; 1,080 minis
ters; 15,305 ?) local preachers. It has a cor
responding number ol Sunday-school scholars
a ,and teachers, and the estimated value of Con
nectional property is £1,831,416 The num
her of local preachers is unnsually large.
The 15 might be expunged and the corps
would be more efficient than it is now.
As to union of the Methodist bodies in Ire
land, I quote from the Princeton Wesleyan
Minutes for the current vear; “Having re
ceived the report of the United Committees,
we reappoint our committee with the convic
tian that while union on the ground of per
fect equality and mutual concession would
be most desirable, yet in our opinion the
recommend itions of the committees leave
serious difficulties, requiring further and
careful consideration.” This union will
next be effected.
I am rather surprised that Dr. Alexander
Clark should be so sensitive as to feel con
strained to notice the error of my letter, for
the most casual reader must have seen that
I was actuated by no unfriendly feeling, but
on the contrary, that the wri er cherished for
the Doctor the liear'iest admiration and re
spect. I labored under no misapprehension,
but simply stated what I was told by a lead
ing minister of the Irish Con'erence. The
reply I made to my friend and informant
was. “I regret much that the Doctor was not
able to attend, for a trueror nobler man never
stood upon the platform of the Conference,”
I could not write a line “ depreciatory ” of
Dr. C ! ark, for if I were to do so, I would
be doing violence to my own feelings and
convictions-. He has long occupied a fist
place in my genuine affection and regard. 1
am sorry he was not able to visit Ireland, and
make an extended tour of the country, for I
had male arrangements which would have
shown him, in a quiet way, that his name and
worth had preceded him, and that Irish hos
pitality had a real exls euce. The Doctor
may certaiuly congratulate himself upon his
receptions, for he was received with unusual
cordiality and enthusiastic brotherliness eve
rywhere, and if he had appeared on the plat
form of the Irish Wesleyan Conference, he
would have seen that its members were
equally as fraternal as those of the other ec
clesiastical bodies wk'eh he visited. His
letter was read by the Secretary, an able and
scholarly man, with his usual deliberateness
and emphasis; but it could not be expected
that it would make such an impression as if
the Doctor had been present-to deliver his
embassy in person. Moreover, when docu
ments are read in deliberative assemblies
the members are u-ually listless; and hence
the reverend gentleman who informed me,
concerning the Doctor's letter, must have
made up by fancy what he lost by iua tentiou,
and therefore the mistake.
1 am astonished that, in correcting the er
ror, Dr. Clark should retaliate by insinua
ting an imputation of general untrustworthi
ness to my communications. In that the
Doctor is far more unfair to himself than un
just to me. No man could better afford to
disdain such expedient in self vindication
than he, especially when no attack was made,
and therefore no defence necessary. I never
write at random. I may err, for 1 certainly,
am not infallible. I claim, however, for any
information I convey, as much reliability as
any correspondent, who communicates news
from this side the sea can claim, for the in
formation he conveys. In matters of judg
ment, pure and simple, it cannot be expect
ed that my conclusions will always be endor
sed, but even in matters of opinion, I claim
for my views exemption from envy or preju
dice. I regret as much as you can possibly
do, Mr. Eiitor, that Dr. C.’s health has not
heen fully restored by his visit to the old
countries. The Church and the religious
press cau ill spare the services of such work-
men at the present time. When interpreted
in the light of his partial recuperation, I feel
the less hurt by his implied accusation of un
reliability, because his sensitiveness may be
somewhat morbidly acute. It is not a nor
mal manifests! ion of true greatness to take
offence at a passing comment and reply by
imputing general untrustworthiness to the
writer.
Editorial comity may be so large as to em
barrass the exerciie of editorial equity, and
a desire to make the amende honorable may
be so strong, as to do injustice to the party
supposed to have offended. Criticism his a
mission sir, and the functions of the editor
include a part of that mission. The office of
the censor is an accredited and an honorable
one ; and the duties have not ceased to be re
quired. There is far too much iudiscriminate
laudation and extravagant eulogy lavished
upon public men by the religious press. In
journalism the sycophant is as contemptible
as the buzz ird. Manly and inflexible justice,
and unpurchaseable faithfulness, Bhould in
spire and control the press in relation to pub
lie measures or their advocates and repre
sentatives. You may praise some men with
hyperbolical exaggeration and inexhaustible
flattery, and they will endure it with sublime
patience; but adventure one line of dissent,
or even of want of appreciation, and their
temper becomes at once vigorously stirred
and they recalcitrate with amus'ng animus.
These r inarks are general, and without
special or personal application, in the inten
tion of your correspondent, therefore he dis
claims all respousibili y, if they are applied
by any gen leman to himself.
Sept. 25, 1876. Penholder.
[ln publishing Dr. Clark’s note in refer
encE to Penholder’s criticism, we said that
we regretted that criticism, and that “ Pen
holder must have written under a total
misapprehension of the nature of Dr.
Clark’s address.” That we were not mis
taken, seems plain from his letter, so that|we
cannot see that our “ editorial comity”
in regretting the circulation of an unjust
criticism upon Dr. Ciark has done him any
injustice.— Editor.]
delations.
From the N ishvill e Christian Advocate.
LETTER FROM BISHOP MARTIN.
I entered Oregon by the old emigrant road
that crosses Snake river at the head of Snake
River Ca m. For about twenty five miles
the roid, after crossing into Oregon, ascends
B irnt River through a region of very rugged
mountains, then passes over into the Powder
River Valley, and from that over a range of
mountains into Grande Ronde Valley. Oil
Powder and Grande Ronde rivers, [ was in a
gi m made familiar to me by the reports of
the R“V. C. H. E. Newton I had appoint
ed him to the Umatilla district in 1868, and
he traversed all this magnificent country,
making the first intelligible report ofits won
derful beauty and fertility I had ever seen.
The following outline of the general fea
tures of the State of Oregon will aid in a just
view of the description of this region. Be
ginning ou the west side of the State there is
the Coast Range of mountains. East of that
13 the Willamette Valley—a level valley re
gion of, say forty miles in width, with miny
smaller valleys extending up smaller water
courses, tributaries of the Willamette river,
into the mountains east and west. East of
this valley is the Cascade Range of moun
tains, and east of that again the Blue Moun
tains. But, between the Cascade and Blue
Mountains there is no large valley, the coun
try being strewed over by irregular mountain
ridges, more or less elevated, with some
small valleys here and there.
But it must be remembered that the Willa
mette Valley traverses only the northern half
of the State. The southern part is all moun
tainous, with only small valleys scattered
here and there. Some of the hills are sus
ceptible of cultivation, but for the most part
it is available only for grazing purposes, and
much ofit is too rugged even for that.
Now, east of the Blue Mountains, and
tributary to Snake River, are Powder aud
Grande Ronde rivers, and these streams make
the only valleys of any considerable size in
Eastern Oregon, and these, indeed, are not
very large Powder River Valley is, say ten
by twenty miles, and Grand Roude fifteen by
twenty five.
The former is about four thousand feet
above the level of the sea. and is, for this lat
itude, just a little too high for whea‘, though
that cereal is produced in considerable quan
tities, and makes a heavy yield, except that
now and then it is injured by frost. But for
barley, oats, and grass, there is scarcely a
better region in th e world. The mountains
around are rich in the precious metals, and
furnish, in many places, excellent range for
stock, so that with the agricultural, mining,
and stock growing interests, the country is
heavily populated and decidedly prosperous,
and you rarely see a more beautiful reg'on.
The plain stretches away, apparently on a
perfectly horizontal line, and the mountains
encompass it on all sides, sometimes in low
undul iting ridges, and sometimes in ranges
on which masses of snow remain throughout
the summer. Avery large proportion of the
plain is in cultivation.
Yet the first settlements in this magnificent
region date back only fourteen years, the first
settlers being Southern sympathizers from
Missouri, who fled from the horrors of im
pending assassination during the war. Many
of them, indeed the great majority of them,
were of the most intelligent and thrifty class
of farmers, who found themselves exposed to
butchery every night, and sought the soli
tudes of M >ntana, Idaho, and Oregon, where
for a Southern man to live and think would
not be a crime. No new country was ever
pre occupied with a be ter class of citizens.
They are, to a large extent, moral, energetic,
industrious, and are beginning to bring out
the resources of the country finely.
Grand Ronde Valley was populated in the
same way, and by the same class It has the
advantage of having a greater area, and of
lying at an elevation one thousand feet below
that of P iwder River.
It is more thickly populated, more largely
in cultivation, and produces wheat to perfec
tion, and in great quantities to the acre. For
beauty what can excel it? I will attempt no
description.
In the southwest portion of it there is a
small lake of hot sulphur water boiling up
from a hundred springs.
At Wingville, in Powder River Valley, I
dedicated an excellent country church, better
than the average in Tennessee, Kentucky, or
Missouri. It is spacious, and the auditory
qualities are perfect. Best of all, there was
no debt to be provided for.
Wingville scarcely amounts to a village,
but is the central point of a prosperous neigh
bnrbo id. The original occupants were all
Missourians, and during the war the neigh
borhood became widely known as “ Price's
Left Wing." The store and blacksmith
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & COMPANY, FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH.
shop were given the name of Wingville by a
citizen who was proud of the appellation.
Baker City is a county-seat in the same
valley. There I spent the Sabbath, and
preached morning and night to good congre
gations. I wa> at Wingville Monday night,
and got to La Grande, in Grande Ronde
Valley, in time to preach at two o’clock on
Tuesday. From Raker Ci'y I was accompa
nied by the Rev. J. W. Compton, the preach
er in charge of the circuit. I had transferred
him from the Baltimore Conference a year
ago last spring. I was delighted to find him,
after eighteen months’ service in Oregon, in
robust health, and strong in the affections of
the people. He had six marten skins which
he had receiv'd as quarterage, and intended
to express to his sister in Virginia. By the
way, the young brother has do le very well
in the way of support.
Tuesday night we came on to the neighbor
hood of Summerville, where we havea church,
but had no appointment in consequence of an
alarm of stnall-pox. But we spent the night
with an excellent family from lowa. The
aged father, residing with his son, is espe
cially inteuse in his a'tachmsnt to the South
ern Church. He told me, with great empha
sis. that he had been kicked out of the Church
in lowa, during the war, for being a Demo
crat. He was rejoiced beyond measure when
he found the M. E. Church, South, in Ore
gon. The son is also a devoted member and
liberal supporter of the Church. In their
neighborhood was a catnp meeting in the
summer, and a wonderful time of power it
was. Father Oliver thought that he had
never, even in his young days, witnessed such
an outpouring of the Holy Spirit.
Wednesday we crossed the Blue Mountain
into the Walla Walla Valley. Hitherto I
have been traveling in a country bare of
trees, but the valleys I have described have
good timber accessible in the near moun
tains ; but for thirty iniies, or more, in cross
ing these mountains, we have been in heavy
forest. The timber is pine, fir of several
species, and tamarack. This last is a de
ciduous conifer, very abundant, and perhaps
the most valuable timber to be found here.
It is also an excellent firewood for the stove,
hut pops so as to make it impossible to use it
iu the open fire-place.
Just as the sun went down we reached
Weston, where 1 preached to excellent con
gregations Friday morning and night. Sat
urday morning we went into Walla Walla,
where we were to spend the Sabbath, and
here my pencil must repose fora little while.
E. M. Marvin.
Wallula. If. TANARUS., Sept. 11, 1876.
BIBLE PREACHING.
We are greatly mistaken in our observa
tion of religious signs if it be not true, that
the preacher who shall most vividly preach
the Bible, is the preacher who will hive most
power for Christ. At.d by preaching the
Bible, we mean, in the first place, the pre
sentation of truth in Biblical forms. In one
sense every true minister preaches the Bible.
That is to say, he unfolds the truths that are
in the Bible. He preaches the character of
God as the Bible has it He hob's up s’n,
and condemns it, as the Bible does. He
preaches Christ who is revealed in the Bible.
And so around the whole circle of revealed
truth. Bathe may do all this in forms that
are far from Biblical.
He may present these truths in a specula
tive or purely theologic way. as parts of a
system, rather than as parts of the Bible.
His message may leave the impression of an
elaboraiion of a connected and formulated
theory, raiher than of a concrete word from
the mouth of God. In proportion as he
makes prominent the system, in which the
ideas inhere, especially in proportion as he
unfolds them in the language of the schools
more than of the word of God, is he shorn
of his power. God honors His own word,
more than the human philosopy of that
word, however logical or true that philo-o
py may be. We are far enough from saying
the minister should have no system of divine
truth. Every severe student of God’s word
will necessarily come to a system. But
though the message may come through the
system, let it be as the bullet goes through
the rifle, carrying with it no mark of the
bore. Let the truth come to man without
taste from the vessel that carries it. And
let the preacher so imbue his mind with
Biblical forms of statement that they shall
come first to his lips. God will regard the
honor thus put upon his truth.
This will secure endless variety, freshness,
and vitality. It will secure variety, because,
though the Bible concretes its truth around
one centre, and is therefore thoroughly sys
tematic and logical, it githers its parts from
every phase of life and thought. From it
you can teach the grace of humility, for in
stance, didactically or by illustrations in the
lives of God’s people. You can preach the
cross of Christ from the standpoint of hu
man necessity, or the revealed plane of Di
vine love and purpose You can unfold it
through the logic of Paul, or along the line
of illustrated history, from Abraham to
Christ. The same theme will be endlessly
diversified.
It will secure freshness and vitality also,
because the truth will not be presented from
the stand-point of any one theory or expe
rience, but it will be seen in the manifold
workings of peoples and nations through
whom it has risen into expression. Faith
can be preached from the life of Abraham
with a vividness possible from no merely
didactic exhibition of its nature and power,
for the simple reason that back of every de
finition or judgment is a real human life. The
truth has become concrete and active in the
experiences of a life like our own.
This leads ns to the remark that the best
preaching will preach the whole Bible. Not
only will it not be the formal enunciation of
propositions or evolution of doctrine on the
line of a system, but it will not be the preach
ing of any one book or part of the Bible. It
will not exalt the di-courses of Christ to the
firgetting of Paul’s Epistles, nor the unfold
ing of Paul’s Epistles to the ignoring of that
divine life on which they are built. It will
not be the preaching of the New Testament
alone, but O and and New Test ament together,
and as mutually complementing each other.
The “law and the prophets,” so largely ig
nored now, are worthy of special emphasis.
When the knife of criticism is drawn down
sharply between Malachi and Matthew, we
need to affirm, with urgent emphasis, the
oneness of all God’s Word. We need to
show, by Biblical exposition, that the Old
is the seed-thought of the New, and that the
scheme of redemption advances us log cally
through Jewish history as it does through
the ministry of the Apostles; that Abra
ham's place in the sacred march is as es
sential as Paul’s; and the uncertain swaying
of the tabernacle curtains, or cloudy pillar,
as truly part of the oncoming love of God,
as the steady light of Bethlehem’s star, or
the tongues of flame on Apostles’ brows.
The Divine Word, the foundation of the
MACON, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1876.
Church, as against merely ethical theories,
may best be made manifest by preaching the
whole ofit in the variety ofits truths, andin
the vitality of their own revealed forms.—
The Interior.
MR. GLADSTONE ON PREACHING.
“ The hint conveyed in these remarks does
not principally touch the question that may
be raised as to the relative merits of written
sermons. The sermons of Dr. Macleod were
it appears, to a great extent, written but not'
read. The sermons of Dr. Chalmers were
certainly in some cases, if not in all, both
written and read. But all Scotch ministers
ofany note who read their sermons, take, or
used to take, good care to read as if reading
not. To a great extent Scottish sermons
were delivered without book, having been
committed to memory. When notes were
used, they were sometimes, as much as might
be, concealed on a small shelf within the
pulpit, for the people had a prejudice, almost
a superstition, against ‘ the papers,’ and cou i
not reconcile them with the Holy Ghost in
the preaching of the Gospel. Reading, pure
and simple, was very rare.
‘‘Apart from the question of the merit of
this or that form in the abstract, there was a
traditional and almost universal idea of
preaching as a kind of spiritual wrestling
with a congregation ; and the better profes
sors of the art entered into it as athletes. and
strove habitually and throughout to get a
good ‘grip’ of the hearer, as truly and as
much as a Cumbrian wrestler struggles, with
persistent and varied movement, to get a
good grip of his antagonist. To give effect
to this idea in preaching, or in other speak
ing, the hearers must be regarded as one.
All fear of the individual must be discarded.
Respect for the body must be maintained,
and may be exhibited by pleading, by expos
tulating, by beseeching ; but always with a
reserve and underthought of authority, of a
title to exhort, rebuke, convince. It is real
ly the constitution of a direct and intimate
personal relation, for the moment, between
preacher and hearers, which lies at the root
of the matter ; such a relation as establishes
itself spontaneously between two persons who
are engaged in an earnest, practical conver
sation to decide whether some given thing
shall or shall not be done ; and for this r**a
son it is that we suggest that the mass of
living humanity gathered iu a congregation
should perhaps be dealt with as one, and
that, unless in exceptional junctures, the
preaiher might find a pathway of power, as
the singer, the instrumentalist, or the actor
does, in treating a crowd as a unity.
“ What has been said is tentatively, and
so to speak provocatively, not to offer the so
lution of a great problem, but at any rate to
set others upon solving it. For a great
problem it is; and a solution is required.
I'he problem is, how, in the face of the press,
the tribune, the exchange, the club, the mul
tiplied solicitations of modern life, to awaken
in full the dormant powers of the pulpit,
which, though it has lost its exclusive privi
leges, is as able as it ever was manfully to
compete tor and to share in the command of
the human sn'rit and of the life it ru!"".-
The Chorch cannot, indeed, do what she
will, make her twenty thousand ministers
produce good sermons at the rate of two
millions a year. She knows very well that
to be good preachers without book, they
must be good theologians ; and that with all
the holy and watchful care they a e bound
to exercise in all the parts of divine ser
vies, it is far more difficult for them than
for those who have no liturgy to collect
and concentrate themselves with full power
upon the act of preaching. If the pries's
have the highest office to discharge, they
must be content and glad to face the great
est. difficulties ; and some aid in the task,
we are confident, they may obtain from a
careful study of the methods pursued in
the Italian and in other foreign pulpits; or
more generally, and for all who have not
the continent within reach, by noticing and
digesting the practice in our own country
of non-Anglican, and, certainly not least,
of Scottish Presbyterian pulpits.”
MILTON’S ACCOUNT OF HIS BLIND
NKSS.
In 1654 Milton wrote a description of his
blindness and the symptoms which attended
it, for his friend Leonard Philara, a lfarned
Athenian, who had expressed a desire to sub
mit the case to an eminent French physician,
celebrated for the treatment of disorders of
the eye. The letter is interesting for the
particular description it gives of the poet’s
blindness, and also for the evidence it affords
of his patience and resignation. The letter
is as follows:
“When you unexpectedly came to London,
and saw me who could no longer my
affliction, which causes none to regard me
with greater admiration, and perhaps many
even with feelings of contempt, excited your
tenderest sympathy and concern. You would
not suffer me to abandon the hope of recover
ing my sight, and informed me that you had
an intimate friend at Paris, Doctor Theve
not, who was particularly celebrated in dis
orders of the eyes, whom you would consult
about mine, if I would enable you to lay be
fore him the causes and symptoms of the
complaint. I will do what you desire, lest I
should seem to reject that aid which perhaps
may be offered by heaven.
“It is now, I think, about ten years since
I perceived my vision to grow weak and dull;
and, at the same time, I was troubled with
pains in my kidneys and bowels, accompanied
with flatulency. In the morning, if I began
to read, as was my custom, my eyes instantly
ached intensely; but were refreshed after a
little corporeal exercise. The candle which
I looked at, seemed as it were circled with
a rainbow. Not long after the sight in the
left part of the left eye (which I lost some
years before tbe other) became quite obscur
ed, and prevented me from discerning any
object on that side. The sight in my other
eye has now been gradually and sensibly
vanishing away for about three years; some
months before it had entirely perished,
though I stood motionless, everything which
I looked at seemed in motion to and fro. A
stiff cloudy vapor seemed to have settled on
my forehead and temples, which usually oc
casions a sort of somnolent pressure upon
my eyes, and particularly from dinner till
the evening. So that I often recollect what
is said of the poet Phineas in the Argottau
tics:
A stupor deep his cloudy temples bound,
And when he walk'd he seem’d as whirl
ing round,
Or in a feeble trance he speechless lay.
“ I ought not to omit that, while I had any
sight left, as soon as I lay down on my bed
and turned on either side, a flood of light
used to gush from my closed eyelids. Then,
as my sight became daily more impaired, the
colors became more faint, and were emitted
with a certain inward crackling sound ; but
at present every species of illumination be
ing as it were, extinguished, there is diffused
around me nothing but darkuess, or darkness
mmgled and streaked with an ashy brown.
Yet the darkness in which I am perpetually
immersed, seems always, both by night and
day, to approach nearer to white than black ;
and w hen the eye is rolling in its socket, it
admits a little particle of light as through a
chink. And though your physician may
kindle a faint ray of hope, yet I make up my
mind to the malady as quite incurable ; and
I often reflect that, as the wise man admon
ishes, days of darkness are destined to each
of us, the darkness which I experience, less
oppressive than that of the tomb, is, owing
to the singular goodness of the Deity, passed
amid the pursuits of literature and the cheer
ing salutations of friendship. But if, as is
written, man shall not live by bread alone,
but by every word that proceedeth from the
mouth of God, why may not any one acqui
esce in the privation of his sight, when God
has so amply furnished his mind and his
conscience with eyes. While He so tenderly
pi,.vines for me; while he so giaeiously leads
"e by the band and conducts me on the way,
7 will, since it is His pleasure, rather rejoice
than repine at being blind. And. my dear
Pnilara, whatever may he the event, I wish
you adieu with no less courage and corapo
sure than if I had the eyes of a lynx.”
WHOSE i
BY MARY MAI*AS DODGE.
‘ Pooh!” cried a doubler: ‘‘lnner Life!
Why prate ou such a fable ?
A man’s a man—Herli blood and bone—
And more to prove, who’s able?
‘ If I am here, why, here I am,
No argument is plainer.
But all this soul’ an . -life to come’—
Why, nothing can be vainer.
“ Alive, we live ; dving, we die.
That’s logic as 1 take it.
Fate gave me common eeuse, and I
Shill not for dreams forsake it.
“ Why, man, I’ll bet my very eyes,
My head and all 'hat’s in it,
Ad lalit of soul must end iu bosh,
Whoever may begin it.”
The ram of faith in pitience heard.
Hold !” cii dhe now, “I’ll do it.
I’ll take this bet of yours, my friend;
But, piithee first constiu it.
“ Your eyes you> very eyi s you stake,
You lieul and ad that’s in it,
A i 'alkofsou' must end iu bosh,
Whoever may begin it.
“N iw, tell me, please, whose,eyes they be?
Whose head it is you i Her?
Who e head and contents duly prized ?”
•‘ Why mine,” replied the sootier.
“ Yours !” cried theother. ‘'Where iheyou
That owns the head and eyes, sir?”
The doubter thought awnil, ■, aud soon
He graver grew and wiser.
“Mr head," he mused “my imbs, trunk!
If tli se make mb, why bother!
Tney can’t be mine and yet he me;
One point breaks up the other.”
He pondered well, he pondered long.
And then he mattered slowly:
‘‘The iuner man, the soul, theme,
Must own my body wholly.
•‘And I who own my feet and hands,
1 know I didn’t make them ;
Bt>. after ad. ’tis just as well
That I should me, kly take them.”
“ Yes ” said his friend: “and-Go 1 be praised!
This iact, now you concede it,
Will lead you on to truth at last,
And very much you need it.”
— lndependent.
THREE GREAT PREACHERS.
A correspondent of the New York Tribune
writes as follows, of Spurgeon, Dean Stanley,
and Canon Liddon :
Having had excellent opportunities for
hearing the great preachers of London, 1
will give my impressions regard ng them.
It is strange that with the rare advantages
possessed by the Established Church in its
universities, the greatest and most popular
preacher in the city should be a Noncon
formist who has had no collegiate training.
Mr. Spurgeon, to whom I refer, has been
over twenty years in London. There is little
in his manner that ordinatily gives a preacher
popularity. He is notsensational.and has few
eccentricities. He is never coarse, vulgar,
nor profane. There is no trill ng or levity in
his discours s, though there is sometimes
trenchant wit. There is, however, a careful
and thorough exposition of the truths of the
Scriptures as he understands them. His ser
mons are constructed simply, and clothed in
the language of common, every day life.
Tiiey are lighted up with brilliant metaphors,
and impressed on the mind with strong il
lustrations drawn from various sources, but
mainly from the Bible. The seven thousand
people who go to the Tabernacle every Sun
day are held face to face with God. They
are placed beneath His law, and are pointed
iO the eternal judgment which awaits them.
All this is not calculated ordinarily to make
the preacher popular. But after all these
vears, Mr. Spu geon has a firmer hold upon
he public than ever. It may well be asked
how he succeeded iu maintaining and
strengthening it. The answer is near at
band. He has been a most laborious student
of everything connected with the Scriptures.
He is thoroughly in earnest. No one ques
tions his sincerity. His life his been above
all reproach. Besides he has been gifted
with great common sense and a marvelous
voice. His labors are almost incredible.
More than sixty of his sermons are publish
ed every year, and they are of such merit
that they are eagerly reprinted and read
by the inhabitants of two continents. His
lectures and preaching and the pastoral work
miong the students in his training college
for preachers are unsurpassed. His exposi
ion of the Psalms of David has grown al
ready to four large volumes, and is acknowl
edged to be the best ever given to the world,
being read by all, ritualists, high and low
churchmen, and dissenters.
Avery diff-rent preacher is Dean Stanley.
His sermons are as polished in their style as
ire his lectures on the Jewish or the Eastern
C lurch. Tney are broad enough for the
most liberal. Iu the sermon which he
.ireached in Westminister Abbey, in conclud
ing a course delivered by various clergymen
recently f om the text, “Gather up the frag
ments,” the Dean raid they should “gather
up the fragments” of truth contained in
hymns like one which he quoted from Dod
dridge, and then he followed the hymn with
a glowing eulogy upon this “great Noncon
formist of the last century.” “Gather up
the fragments,” be said again, “of truth
found in the Zenda Vesta,” and in the sci
entific teaching of the times. The Dean,
too, is very popular, as might be judged
from the hundreds being unable to get ad
mission to the abbey on this occasion.
Canon Liddon of St. Paul’s is a preacher
of a different order. His style of sermon
izing might be deemed almost faultless. His
style and form of expression are unexcelled.
Although his voice is not over strong, no one
of the five thousaud people who sat under
the great dome last Sunday afternoon need
have lost a word of his discourse. Unlike
Dean Stanley, Conon Liddou leans toward
the ritualists. This party is just now giving
the establishment a great deal of trouble.
The Arches’ Court is busy dealing with ac
cusations of ritualism. Whatever may be
their faults, it must be admitted however
that the riiualists set in some respects a
good example. St. Alban’S church, which
has a confessional, and a system resembling
that of the Roman Catholic monasteries, is
in Baldwin’s court, a wretched place, inhab
ited by the very lowest classes. The rector
of this church, who has been repeatedly
under discipline for liis ritualistic praciices,
is doing more for the poor people of this dis
trict than all the other Churches therein.
Perhaps after all he is not under discipline
by “the Judge of all the Earth,” who may
look more to his work than how he does it.
WHAT GIVES EFFECT TO PREACHING.
This question has a divine side and a hu
man side. It is correqf in view of the first,
to sav, “ The Spirit of God maketh the read
ing, but especially the preaching of the word,
an effectual means of convincing and con
verting sinners, and of building them up in
holiness and comfort through faith unto sal
vation.” That is, it is the office-work of the
Holy Spirit to apply the benefits of the re
demption purchased by Christ to the indi
vidua! soul. Without the Holy Spirit, the
word of God, whether read or preached, is
powerless.
But, considering the human side of the
question, there are many things which, used
and controlled by the Holy Spirit, contribute
to the determining of the results of the
preached word. We notice three of these
determining causes:
1. Much depends upon the manner in
which God’s message is delivered. If the
minister displa s a coldness and want of in'
teresi in the message delivered, it is not
strange that others should display a like
coldness and indifference. The hearer must
see and know that his minister is in earnest,
himself under the power of the truth which
he proclaims to others. Truth, to reach the
heart, must come warm from the heart.
2. Much depends upon the frame of mind,
and hence the attention given by the individ
ual hearer. If the thoughts are going out
after worldly objects, and these objects occu
py the mind, the truth will find no lodgment
there. The truth must be heard in order to
be profitable to the individual, and when lis
tened to with serious attention, is not likely
to fail entirely to be followed by good results.
3. Much depends upon the manner of the
congrega: ion, after the pulpit services are
closed. If a congregation, especially the
professing Christians of the congregation, re
tire from the house of God, by their manner
indicating that they feel the power of the
truth, and are earneslly desiringand praying
God's blessing upon his own word, no one
can calculate how much such a course of
conduct contributes to the strengthening of
serious impressions and to saving results
from the preached word. Nothing, perhaps,
is so calculated to dissipate the mind, and
expel serious thought, as a light manner and
levitous conversation by pro'essing Chris
tiar s directly after listening to the most sol
emn truths relating to the destiny of immor
tal souls. Every Christian should desire
and pray for God s blessing upon all the di
vinely appointed means of grace, and espe
cially upon the preached word.— Transylva
nia Presbyterian.
AFTER THE FUNERAL.
Of all the returnings home, the return
from the grave after the funeral is the most
intensely sad. Who that has ever followed
the dearly beloved to his last rest will not
agree that it is even so?
While the lost one was sick, we went in
and out, anxious sorrowing, fearful. The
solicitude to relieve and care for him en
grossed us —the apprehension of losing him
excited and agonized us, but there was no
room nor time for loneliuesa or sense of
present desolation.
While he lay dead beneath the home roof,
there was hurry and bustle in preparation
for the final rites. Friends must be ap.
prised and invited—the funeral arrange
ments definitely made—the mourning pro
cured and fit’ed - the hospitalities of the
house must befit the occasion ; all is excite
ment and tension—the loss is not yet fell.
But when the coach drops us at our door,
“after the funeral,” then it is that the work
of the destroyer begins to be apparent—
the very house seems lone; and still and
repulchral, though it be in the heart of the
town ; aud though its threshold be thronged
with friendly feet, it seems empty and void 1
The apartments, oh, how deserted—espe
cially the room where he fought and surren
dered in the awful conflict 1 There, there,
everywhere are memories of him 1 How
they make the tears start now, though we
have often contemplated them calmly, ever
since he died. Those are bis clothes—how
painfully distinct is our recollection of how
he looked in every one of them, and when
and where he last wore them. These are
his books —the one he last read with the
leaf turned down where his place was. There
is his chair in the fire-side corner, where he
loved to sit. There his ever vacant seat at
the family board. During the sickness, we
had not so much noticed these—we hoped
ever that he might, use or occupy them again;
t ow we know it cannot be, and this shows
us the dreadlul vacuity everywhere.
Oh, how dark and dismal come down the
first night shadows “after the funeral.” No
night was ever so dreary or so long—the
tickings of the clock reverberated like bell
strokes—such deep silence—no foot steps
were on the stairs, or overhead in the sick
chamber —no nurse and watches to come
and say, “he is not so well, and asks for
you”—no, indeed, you may sleep on now
and take your rest if you can 1
Poor, bereaved heart! it will be long be
fore the sweet rest you once knew will re
-vi-it your couch. Slumber will bring again
the scenes through which you have just
“wakened and wept,” and you will start
from it but to find all too real.
God pity the mourners “after the funeral.”
TWO SUNDAYS.
You know that, in crossing the Pacific,
it becomes necessary to alter the reckoning
of the days to conform to that of the Eastern
or Western Hemisphere, according as a ship
s sailing in one direction or the other. In
going to Japan, when the 180th degree of
longitude is reached (which is just half way
around the world from the royal observatory
at Greenwich, England, from which longi
tude is reckoned), a day is dropped, and in
returning one is added. We crossed that
meridian on the Bth inst., and so two days
were put down in the ship’s calendar as the
Bth of June. Now, as it happened that this
was Sunday, we had two Sabbaths succeed
ing each other—one of which was the Sab
bath in Japan and in all Asia, and the other
the Sabbath in America and in Europe.
Some of our ship’s company were puzzled to
know which to keep ; but I did not think it
would do me any harm to keep them both ,
and shall always remember with pleasure
this double Sabbath on the sea. — Dr. Field,
in Evangelist.
A vain man can never be altogether rude.
Desirous as he is of pleasing, he fashions his
manners after those of others.— Goethe.
A GLORIFIED SPIRIT.
Would you know where I am? I nm at
home in my Father’s house, in the mansion
prepared for me there. lam where I would
be, where I have long and often desired to
be ; no longer on a stormy sea, but in a safe
and quiet harbor. My working time is done,
lam resting; my sowiug time is done, I am
reaping; my joy is as the joy of harvest.
Would you know how it is with me? I am
made perfect in holiness; grace is swallowed
up in glory ; the top stone of the building is
brought, forth. Would you know what I am
doing ? I see God; I see Him as He is; not
as through a glass darkly, but face to face;
and the sight is transforming, it makes me
like Him. lam in the sweet employment
of my blessed Redeemer, my head and hus
band, whom my soul loved, and for whoso
sake I was willing to part with all. lam
here bathing myself in the spring head of
heavenly .pleasures, and joys unutterable;
and, therefore, weep not for me, I am here
keeping a perpetual Sabbath ; what this is
judge by your short Sabbaths. I am here
singing hallelujahs incessantly to Him who
sits upon the throne, and rest not day or
night from praising Him. Would you know
what company I have? Blessed company,
better than the best on earth —here are holy
angels, and spirits of just men made perfect.
I am set down with Abraham and Isaac and
Jacob, in the kingdom of God with blessed
Paul, and Peter, James and John, and all the
saints ; and here I meet with many of my
old acquaintances that I fasted and yrayed
with, who got before me hither. And lastly,
would you consider how long this is to con
tinue? It is a garland that never withers;
a crown of glory that fades not away; after
millions of millions of ages, it will be as
fresh as it is now ; and therefore weep not
for me. —Mathew Henry.
RAINY SUNDAYS.
Don’t make them an occasion of sinning
by neglect of duty. Go to church at the
time for the appointed services. Your pas
tor will be there, wtiy not you? Ilis person
al comfort in reaching the place will be as
much impaired as yours ; he has no better
over coat, over-shoes, or umbrella, than your
self His health is as delicate as your own,
and he is as likely to take cold from expo
sure to damp weather as you are. It is, too,
exceedingly depressing to him to see a small
audience. When the congregation dwindles
to small dimensions for a trifling reason, he
is forced to believe that either his ministra
tion of the gospel is unacceptable, or that
the ordinances of the sanctuary themselves
are unattractive. Either inference is painful,
and cripples his unsefulness. Then again,
if you stay away from church, your absence
will exert an unfavorable influence. Those
persons who are present will come to the
conclusion that they have as .good a right
and as strong a reason to remain at, home as
you have. Your neighbors will call you, or
regard you, as a fair-weather Christian.
Persons in your employment will think that,
after all your talk about the importance of
religion, you are willing to make but little
sacrifice for the cultivation and diffusion of
it. If you were certain of finding a SIOO bill
in your pew on a rainy Sunday, would you
not be found in your place in it? It is (ar
better to please God, and prepare for heav
en, by obeying His command, than it would
be to come into possession weekly of any
such amount. God is said lomake the rain,
hail, and snow to praise Him. But what,
kind of praising Hint is it when men make
these agencies an excuse for not assembling
at the appointed place and time for His wor
ship? Go to church on the rainy Sabbath,
and go with reverence, faith and hope, for it
may be your last Lord's Day on earth.
BENEVOLENCE.
Let no one indulge the vain imagination,
that a just and generous, and compassionate
conduct towards his fellow creatures, consti
tute the whole of bis duty, and will compensate
for the breach of every other Christian virtue.
This is a most faial delusion; and yet in
the present times, a very common one. Ben
evolence is the favorite, the fashionable vir
tue, of the age; it is universally cried up by
infiJels and libertiues, as the first and only
duty of man ; and even many who pretend
to the name of Chris'ianity, are too apt to
rest upon it as the most essential part of
their religion, and the chief basis of their
title to the rewards of the gospel. But that
gospel prescribes to us several other duties
which require from us the same attention as
those we owe to our neighbor ; and if we fail
in any of them, we can have no hope of shar
ing in the benefits, procured for us by the
sacrifice of our Redeemer. What, then, God
and nature, as well a3 Christ aud His apos
tles, have joined together, let no mau dare
to put asunder. Let no one flatter himself
with obtaining the rewards, or even escaping
the punishments of the gospel, by performing
only one branch of his duty ; nor let him ever
suppose, that under the shelter of benevo
lence, he can eiiher on the one hand evade
the fir.t and great command, the love of his
Maker; or, on the other hand, that he can
securely indulge his favorite passions—can
compound, as it weie, with God, for his sen
suality, by acts of generos ty, aud purchase
by his wealth, a general license to siu. This
may be very good Pagan morality, may be
very good modern philosophy, but it is not
Chris ian godlinees.— Porteus.
CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOB.
There are, and will always be, innumer
able things in the Divine government im
possible for us to comprehend ; and as those
which are more known to us require our
thanks and praise, to the former call for
other sentiments and dispositions of mind
equally reasonable, —admiration, submis
sion, trust; aud all conspire to demand the
conformity of our lives to the will of God. In
cases which we understand, we see there is
great rea-on for this; and in those we do
uot, there may be greater.
When we read of the miracles done by the
apostles, and find that, in ancient times, the
bliud received their sight, the deaf heard,
the lepers were cleaused, the lame walked,
and the very dead were raised at the speaking
of a wotd, wea eatnaz and at the powers bes
towed on the first preachers of the Gospel,
and should be willing to submit to any de
gree of rigor in our lives, that ourselves al-o,
if it were now possible, might be honored
with the same signal endowments.
Men may work mira les in support of
God’s true religion, and yet be found at last
to have been the servants of another master;
and the preacher of righteousness be con
demned for his sins.
There will be found among the workers
of wonders, among ape sties, prophets, mar
tyrs, those who shall be "cutoff, and cast into
outer darkness but of those who love God
and keep his commandments, notone shall
be lost. The obedient shall all be received
into the state ofbliss, aud be made “kings
and priests to God, for ever and ever.”—
Dr. Ogden. *
F. M. KENNEDY, D. D., Editor
J. W. BURKE, Assistant Editor
A. G. HAYGOOD, D. D., Editorial Correspondent
WHOLE NUMBER 2019.
MISCELLANEA.
A Mr. Lyons, of Cleveland, who died re
cently,bequeathed S4O 000 to Vassar College.
The Interior says: Of the 4,744 ordained
ministers of the Presbyterian Church, 3,326
are regularly employed in the work to which
they were consecrated. Nearly one-third of
the whole—l,4lß, are otherwise employed or
unemployed.
The Boston First Baptist Association has
appointed a committee to investigate the
practice of the Warren Avenue church, in
relation to its terms of communion. This is
the church of which Rev. George F. Pente
cost is pastor.
Miss Mollie Ann Walton, of Moores
viile, Alabama, learning that $1,250 were
needed to purchase an engine for the Cum
berland Presbyterian Publishing House at
Nashville, has presented the Board of Pub
lication with that sum.
Bishop Potter, of New York, is opposed
to pewed churches. He thinks people very
gi- nerally buy pews to gain social precedence,
and thinks this is a sorry motive for attend
ance at places of worship. He is emphatic
in his preference for free seats.
It is said that the dying Cardinal Auto
nelli will leave 20,000,000 francs, besides ob
jects of art to the extent of a further 15,000,
000 francs. The Cardinal will have more
embarrassment than most preachers in un
loading when he comes to the end of life’s
journey.
A sister of Spurgeon, the great Baptist
preacher of London, has entered the pulpit.
The English papers speak of her as a most
lifted lady, and say if Rev. C. H. Spurgeon
is the prince of preachers, among men, sure
ly Mrs. Jackson is the qneen of preachers
among women.
Buddhism in Japan, is declining. In a
single district, or ken, seventy-one temples
have, since 1873, been converted into dwel
ling houses, or used for other secular pur
poses. During the last six years, upwards
of six hundred temples have thus been diver
ted from their original object.
At the recent meeting of the Miami Bap
tist Association, Mrs. S. K. Levitt reported
that the Baptist women of the United States
had raised $45,000 during the past year by
contributions of two cents per week. She
hoped to have $50,000 raised by the same
means during the coming year.
I he Central Christian Advocate tells of a
note addressed by a Catholic priest to a
1 rotestant minister, saying: “I send you
your spoons back. If your servant had been
a Protestant, you never would have got them
again.” The Protestant minister responded:
•‘I thank you for the spoons. If the girl had
been a Protestant, she never would have
stolen them.”
A Presbyterian Lay College is to be estab
lished in connection with Auburn Theologi
cal Seminary in Western New York. It is
proposed simply to prepare lay members of
the Church, men and women, if the commit
tee and Presbyteries choose—to become more
intelligent and efficient Christian workers in
the common walks of life, aud in those com
mon fields of labor—the session, the Sabbath
school, aud the benevolent association—
which are always open in every parish.
An interesting work which lately appeared
at Freiburg, by Professor Landois, on the
“Voices of Animals,” affords additional ev
idence of the universality of vocal sounds
among the lower forms of animals, including
the Mollusca. The author considers it as
beyond all question that ants possess a vocal
speech, inappreciable by human ears, by
which they are enabled to exercise those
higher mental faculties to which they owe
the development of the advanced social or
ganization which they exhibit in their com
munities.
The little Presbyterian church at San Fer
nando, near Cadiz, has come to be quite pub
licly connected with puhlic affairs in Spain.
The Alcalde, having thrown every obstacle
in the way of the opening of the edifice, was
finally, on the accession of King Alfonso,
emboldened to forbid worship in it altogeth
er. The English embassador took the mat
ter up. Count Bismarck made the reopen
ing of this church one of the conditions on
which the new monarchy should be recog
nized, and Castelar signalized the occasion
by one of his strongest speeches in the Cor
tez on religious liberty. So the little church
at Sail Fernando, made a test case for all
Spain, now receives its hearers on every Sab
bath without let or hinderance.
The Rev. B. H. Badiey, American Meth
odist Missionary in India, has published an
Indian Missionary Directory and Memorial
volume. It. gives the names and addresses
of 960 living missionaries and ordained native
pastors in India proper, and 800 names ot
retired and deceased missionaries, with
sketches of the lives of the latter, and such
facts about all as could be obtained. Six
missionaries, for some inscrutable reason,
asked that their names be entirely omitted
from the work. The list shows an increase
of 81 missionaries and ordained native sub
jects since 1871, 266,391 native Christians
now against 224,258 five years ago, and
68.689 communicants now against 52,816 (our
years ago. These figures show a rate of gain
of about five per cent, a year.
A Correspondent of the London Jewish
Herald who has spent several years in the
Holy Land states that there are signs of the
approaching restoration of the Jews: He
ays: “'The last four or five years have wit
nessed a return of the Jews to Palestine from
all parts, but more especially from Russia,
which has been altogether unprecedented.
The Hebiew population of Jerusalem is now
probably double what it was some ten years
ago. Accurate statistics on this subject it is
impossible to find, as the Eastern Jewsdread
a census from superstitious reasons, and also
from the fear of having to pay more by way
ol poll lax to the Tuiks if their true numbers
were known. For these reasons, and espe
cially the latter, their official returns on the
subject are not to be trusted. In 1872 and
1873 such numbers returned to Saphed alone,
one of the four holy cities of the Jews, in the
mountains of Galilee, that there were no
houses to receive them, and building was for
a considerable length of time carried on all
night, as well as all day. This, be it remem
bered, in the East, where ‘the night’ is em
phatically the time ‘in which no man can
work 1’ Great accessions still continue daily;
and whereas, ten years ago, the Jews were
confined to their own quarter in Jerusalem,
the poorest and worst, they now inhabit all
parts of the city, and are always ready to rent
every house that is to be let. Notwithstand
ing this happy change, owing to want of ac
commcdalion, still a building society has
been formed, and many of its simple tene
ments are now rising outside the city to the
northwest, Even before this many Jewish
houses had already been built in two little
colonies outside the Jaffa Gate. Moreover,
the Jews in Palestine are certainly acquiring
possession of landed property in the village*
and country districts.”