Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

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.”