Newspaper Page Text
floitlbttt ifcmlian Aduualc.
TWO DOLLARS AND FIFTY'CENTS
per
VOLUME XLI., NO. 31.
|)oftrn.
The Scene on Calvary.
Lo darkness rules the present hour,
This night appears infernal power ;
Behold the coming band;
See, one disciple leads the van ;
Another dares deny the Man,
Nor does the strongest stand.
One friend betrays—the rest have fled,
Jesus to Calvary is led—
Nor is he led unbound ;
Elders, and priests, and people cry,
Away: away! yea, let Him die!
Though not a fault is found.
Servants rise up, and smite the Lord ;
They mock Him with insulting word ;
Speak blasphemies aloud ;
Spit on Him, buffet, blind His eyes;
And false accusers round Him rise,
Sworn to persuade the crowd.
Hail mystery sublime, unknown ! •
And only fathomed on the throne
Where Jesus reigns adored.
Oh ! may we count Thy pains as ours,
And wake the soul’s impassioned powers,
To praise and bless the Lord.
(Contributions.
At the Foot of the Rocky Moun
tains.
The session of the Denver Confer
ence, at Las Animas, should have been'
held a week earlier than the time
appointed. Finding it impracticable
to change the arrangement, and know
ing 1 should not have an hour to
spare en route from Helena, Montana,
1 determined to spend a day’ or two,
including Sunday, at Denver, the prin
cipal point in the Annual Conference.
Accordingly 1 left Kansas City on
Tuesday morning, by the route of the
A. T. and Santa Fe Railroad, over
which a free ticket had been sent me.
This takes the traveller across the at
tractive country which lies between
the Missouri river and the great “ Con
tinental Divide ” —the Rocky Moun
tains. Not many years ago the only
route was tho old Santa Fe trail, part
of which ran through >v Fiat war. known
as the great American Desert. The
railroad follows this trail. Now, you
leave Kansas City before 11 A. M.,
pass the night in a luxurious sleeping
car, if you will, and arrive at Pueblo
by 3 P. M. the next day—a distance
a little over six hundred miles. As
far as Emporia the road is furnished
with steel rails; it is smooth and well
appointed the whole way. We soon
strike tbo prairies and ar ftac from
dust. One is reminded of M*e beauti
ful prairies of Texas. Towns are suc
ceeded by villages, these by hamlets,
and then stations, mustering only a
house or two. Windmills are seen
here and there. Then we are in the
coal region. Some of the coal mines
lie along the road, ard cars are loaded
where the coal is brought up. The
quality of tho coal improves as wo get
farther West. A great, solid lump of
coal, eight feet nine inches long, six
feet across, and four feet four high,
•was taken from a mine not tar from
Canon City, one of the connections
ot this road. It was an object of great
attention at the Centennial Exhibi
tion.
THE VALLEY OF THE ARKANSAS,
Night shuts down on the beautiful
prairie landscape, dotted here and
there with herds of cattle. Waking
next morning, and looking out from
the window of the sleeping car, there
was the Arkansas running a tew hun
dred yards off, polished, bright, like a
broad silver ribbon, through the green
prairies. We are in the valley of the
Arkausas, though there is no appear
ance of a valley. Fora time it was
all still life over the vast and level
space stretching out to the sky-line.
Not a living, moving thing appeared
for a mile or two. Then a crow put
in his appearance—cosmopolitan as he
is—looking up his breakfast no doubt.
Then in the distance a small group of
cattle feeding ; then, rising and falling,
the flight ot blackbirds. Over these
plains not fiveyears ago, roamed count
less herds of buffalo and antelope,
which attracted the hunter, Indian
and white, to one. of the best regions
for finding game ot that sort in ill
the Southwest. But now no indica
tion of buffalo or antelope greets the
sight as far as the vision may extend.
How beautiful the straight, shining
river, in the morning glory of its
course ! The Arkansas from its head
springs passes out of the Rocky Moun
tains through the Grand Canon (pro
nounced Canyon). This is thirteen
miles from Canon City, which lies
southwest from Pueblo. I shall not
have time, of course, to see this won
derful mountain chasm—the rocking
cradle of the young river. It is said
to be surpassingly grand, approach
ing the awful. At the first point of
view the eye looks down at the brink
of a sharp incline three thousand feet
to the bed of the Arkansas river, forty
to sixty feet in breadth, yet in ap
pearance a mere thread of molten sil
ver. The second view is obtained no
great distance farther up, at a point
in the canon, called the Royal Gorge,
where the walls of the chasm are per
pendicular. The depth of the gorge
is a little over t wo thousand feet sheer
down, as if made by a plummet. It
is claimed to be the most precipitous
and sublime in its proportions of any
chasm on the continent. The river
leaps, and foams, and surges along its
narrow way through this rocky defile,
and emerges at length into sunshine
and smooth plains, through which its
course is fringed with verdure. Its
borders for a hundred miles are so
low, that the cattle go to it for drink,
with scarcely a slope. In the mid-day
glory of its course, it gives fertility to
millions of acres of broad cotton lands;
and at last pours its now turbid waters
into the majestic flow of the American
Mediterranean—the Mississippi.
UP GRADE.
A good substantial meal is furnished
at the breakfast house at seventy-five
cents ; and money is made by the op
eration. for there are many who sit at
the tables. Near Las Animas one
gets the first glimpse ofthe mountains.
Though ninety miles off, the outlines
of the Greenhorn range maj’ be seen,
looking very much like a far-off bank
of smoky clouds. At Puebla we are
close upon the foot-hills of the Colora
do portion of the Rocky Mountains.
To the northwest there towers Pike’s
Peak, of which one has read or heard
so much. I.anticipated the repetition
of the throb I had realized years be
fore, when on the Columbia river, I
first saw Mt. Hood, all hoary with
perpetual snow. But there was no
snow on Pike’s Peak, save patches
here and there in secluded gorges.
The summer has been very hot, and
the position of the mountain is very
far south of Mt. Hood.
We change trains at Pueblo, and
take a narrow gauge road, the Denver
and Rio Grande. Its course is a little
west of north. The Southern route of
this road from Pueblo toward Trin
idad, I may say parenthetically, crosses
the Sangre de Christo range of moun
tains at the Yeta pass, overcoming at
the pass an elevation of 9,349 feet,
Lite highest point reached by any
railroad in North America. The max
imum grade per mile is two hundred
and eleven feet—eleven feet higher
than the maximum grade on Major
Duncan’s road from Spartanburg, S. C.,
over tho Blue Ridge. This grade is
two hundred feet to the mile, for three
miles, just before reaching Saluda.
That was the steepest f ever went up
and catne down in all my railroad
traveling.
I am told that some two hundred
miles beyond the Grand Canon ofthe
Arkansas, where the valley of the riv
er is of course very narrow, winding
its way through the Rocky Mountains,
exceedingly rich deposits of silver ore
have recently been discovered. The
proprietor of one gulch was offered
and refused ten thousand dollars a
day for the use of his mine. A pop
ulation "“T“ tt U v Ti ,y " i S'd
now fills the vicinity, attract- and thith
er within the last four or five months.
THE niGEIEST PEAK.
By eight P. M. our narrow gauge
puts us to Denver, one hundred and
twenty-seven miles. Wo pass the Col
orado Springs about halfway. I
found at Denver the pleasantest of quar
ters at the house of brother A. S.
Rhodes. A buggy drive early next
morning showed me, what I had hard
ly expected to see, a considerable, as
well as beautiful city, covering an area
of four square miles. The South Platt
river washes the base of the city on
the northwest, and Cherry Creek on
the south. Rising gradually you are
presently on a level plain, with a
broad forty-mile-valley, between the
spectator and the Rocky Mountains,
which run southwestin majestic gran
deur. Long's Peak, said to he higher
than Pike’s, towers in the northern
extreme of the mountain range, as
visible from Denver. Streaks of snow
lying in the gorges are seen, but the
snow-cap is not yet on the summit of
the huge mountain. During the total
eclipse of the sun, a few weeks ago,
seen in its perfection at Denver, the
first shaft of restored sun-light struck
the lofty peak, with an effect upon the
watchers here still in the darkness of
the full eclipse, which was startling
and unspeakably grand. Mauy sci
entific men from distant localities
were here and witnessed this.
THE STREAMS THAT MAKE GLAD.”
A stranger is struck with the ver
dure of the cotton-wood trees which
line the streets on both sides. Your
surprise ceases when you observe that
there ?*; wffor r'finmg along all the
margins of the streets. This is brought
in a canal, a very considerable distance,
and conveyed in shallow ditches over
the whole city. The roots of the shade
1 trees are thus kept moist, and the
foliage is luxuriant. The streets are
; broad, firm, and beautifully smooth,
j An ample supply of water for drink
i ing purposes is taken from the Platt
! river and distributed everywhere, by
i a powerful Holly engine, costly, effi
cient, and kept in fine order.
COSTLY STONES.
On many of the streets they are
I pulling down small houses and erect
ing large brick buildings. Many of
j the public buildings, hotels, and stores,
| would grace any city in the United
States. A goodly number of elegant
private residences are seen. The
largest and costliest of the churches
here, is a Presbyterian church, of the
New School, as are the other two, of
the same denomination. Said my
host in driving by, “ you must not be
surprised if I tell you that the foun
dation and walls of that fine church
have silver in them.” “ How so ?” I
| answered. “ Well, the rock was taken
from a quarry where silver ore was
once dug; six dollars worth to the
ton. The mine was considered unprofi
table, and the rock was subsequently
used for building purposes.” There
is said to he a large debt upon the
church. Henry Ward Beeecher is to
lecture here in a week or two, at $2,-
PUBLISHED BY WALKER, EVANS k COGSWELL FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, SOUTH.
CHARLESTON, S. C., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1878.
000 a night for two nights, for the
benefit of the embarrassed church.
The M. E. Church has several houses
of worship here, very neatly built of
brick. Ours is a small wooden build
ing, eligibly situated, which will, in
no great while, give place to a larger
and more imposing structure. Our
membership though not large, yet em
braces people of great worth. They
have paid in full a liberal assessment
for the preacher in charge; sent him
to Conference with anew suit of
clothes, and with all the Conference
claims settled.
On Sunday I visited the Sunday
school and made a little speoch to the
children, and preached morning and
night. lam quite glad I had time to
make this visit before the session of
the Conference. There j-vill be no
time to spare afterwards.
W. M. WIGHTMAN.
Denver, Sept. 2, 1873.
Alabama Correspondence
With feelings beyond description, I
have greeted the dear old “Southern,”
coming, as it docs, from its former place
of publication, and, therefore, seem
ing more liko the blesse'd friend of
my childhood and boyhood than dur
ing its long, sojourn in the “ Empire
State.” Its name and dress, and the
names of its Carolina correspondents,
all combine to call up tho past, and
make me live over agaiu the days that
are gone. At this moment 1 am think
ing of my boyish impatince at the
slow movements of oui% never-to be
hurried postmaster, an# of the joy I
felt, as, at last, he handed to me the
Southern Christian Advocate. I
remember with what genuine pleas
ure I hurried to take it to my now
sainted mother, and to see her smile
of welcome as she received the week
ly visitor. That smile, Mr. Editor,
produced in me an imperishable love
for that visitor, and to this day a
sight of the latter recalls the former
with ail its hallowed associations.
Many changes we havo all seen
since those far away days. Death has
done its work ; and what death has
failed to do in working changes, has
been done by war and poverty. Still,
with you and all its friends, your cor
respondent rejoices that tho Advocate
lives, and has again entered its old
field of labor with such fair prospects
of success.
It would suit my present state of
n.'ii.i . ;er. i&a \ cTif" KoiVNidcy oo: -
respondent has done, to the men of
precious memory, whose zeal and piety
and loyalty to Methodism has made
the South Carolina Conference a mod
el in our connection, but 1 dare not
allow myself liberty in that direction.
1 bless God that I ever knew them ;
that their holy hands were ever laid
on my head in childhood ; that their
godly counsels were ever given to me
in my boyhood, and that their love
and influence were around me in my
young manhood. Through their ex
ample and devotion I was made irre
coverably an itinerant preacher, hav
ing no aspiration to he called “ pastor,”
or to prolong my stay in any com
munity longer than the time fixed by
law.
The Alabama Annual Conference,
with which I am now connected, is
one of the largest of our Church ; and
among its members are to be found
men of profound scholarship, great
energy and zeal, and best of all, deep
piety and full consecration to their
work. As in other Conferences, so in
this, we hear o i‘favorites, pets, and the
like, but I think such characters exist
only in the imaginations of those who
speak of them. In one particular this
Conference is not like the South Car
olina. There, it is by no means un
common for men to be moved from
one of the best stations to a circuit,
or from a circuit to a first class station.
Not many years ago, one of your best
men was taken from an appointment
in Charleston and sent to the Abbe
ville circuit. No one was surprised,
no one was shocked. The preacher
did not feel afflicted, the circuit did
not fee! exalted. There ,was not a
class in the Conference distinguished
by tho name of circuit preachers, and
another class known as station preach
ers. All the members of the Confer
ence were expected to prepare them
selves for any class of work, and most
of them do it; and they were as much
at home in the city work as in that of
circuit or mission. Cokesbury circuit
or Trinity station were equally re
joiced to welcome VY. A. Game well, of
blessed memory, and his presence was
as the presence of an angel in either
charge. Do not understand me to say
that in this Conference there are those
two distinct classes known as such.
Here, however, those changes from
stations of first grade to circuits are
exceedingly rare, if, indeed, they ever
occur ; and the tendency of this state
of things to produce the two classes
referred to, is a calamity in any Con
ference. At any rate, it is certainly
desirable to have most ofthe members
of a Conference qualified for any class
of work in its bounds.
Just now we are enjoying “ times
of refreshing” in almost every part of
the district of which I have charge.
Huudreds have been converted and
added to the church. Never have I
seen greater zeal among preachers, nor
more concern among the people. May
God carry on the work till, in all this
laud, there shall be no occasion for
any one to say “know ye the Lord,”
hut “all shall know him, from the
least to the greatest.”
Our protracted me ting work has
been greatly interfered with by
the excitement of a political cam
paign, which has just termitated in
the meeting of a convention at this
place, and the nomination of a candi
date for Congress from this district.
You may judge of the nature and ex
tent of the contest, when I tell you
that there were five candidates, and
the convention did no make a choice
till it had cast its voU seven hundred
and fifty-four times. Just think ofthe
monotonous work of tho president,
who was expected, as each ballot was
taken, to rise and say ‘ Gentlemen, up
on casting up the vote I find,” &c., &c.
Since neither of the candidates has
received the required two-thirds ma
jority, the con ven tiov will proceed to
vote again.” How . i.’.’jny of these gen
tlemen would have I’ \ nod patiently
for half hour to an esvnest speech in
favor of foreign mission ? I am inclin
ed to think, by the cyy, that these
polfffcal folks would !>■ greatly profit
ed if they would consent to learn more
of the Word of God rnd of religion.
Some of them are woefully ignorant
at this point. At a recent gathering
for political purposes, one of the speak
ers intending to quote that beautiful
tribute to women, “Last at the cross
and first at the sepulchre,” rendered
it as follows: “Women, first at the
cross, and last at the resurrection."
The ladies present, of course, were not
complimented, and another speaker
discovering the mistuKe of his oppo
nent, and wishing to crush him in the
presence of the religions audience, ex
claimed with a look rJ disdain, “My
friend ought never to tempt to quote
Scripture, for he always gets it wrong.”
As this incident is vouched for by an
eye witness, I suppose it is true.
At another time I -vi 11 be glad to
write more of our Conference, its
schools, and colleges, and people, but
now I must desist. God bless you
and the Advocate. -
Henry D. Moore.
Eufaula, Ala., Sept. 19, 1878.
Mountain Scenery and Adven
ture.
Mr. Editor: At tic request of Dr.
Kennedy, I renew my correspondence
with the dear old Southern. I re
joice that my lettersifind a welcome
in the columns of tin t time honored
weekly.
It was my joy to pit ture the charm
in<r sights of UaIHMyA Georgia,
also, has her places^ot beauty. I
made my first trip to Stone Mountain
not many weeks ago,s.nd was greatly
impressed with its p*J. ,nts of interest.
Not even in Californi;. did wo see so
wonderful a sight ii nature as a
mountain, standing utterly removed
from all of its kind.
“Great granite monster, whence thy birth;
What age upheaved thy giant form?”
The cultivated author of the above
lines explained to me that this rocky
upheaval, just there, is truly one
of nature’s wonder,-!. There are
few who have traveled more, or seen
more of nature’s face. I will not
attempt to describe a spot so fa
miliar to most of your readers, but
will relate a story I heard while there,
which will ever bo associated in my
mind with Stone Mountain. Not
many years since, a gtfatleman started
out on a fox hunt; jlobably he had
friends along with hifi on horseback,
but I am sure ho had a faithful set
following him, in his pack of dogs.
By and by they started a fox, whose
den was probaby some where upon
Stone Mountain, for Lo made straight
for that spot. The whole party were
in the full excitomont of the chase, as
they began to ascend from the south
side. That was easy work at first,
for, like a set of gende terraces the
rocks rise. Who, that climbs leisure
ly up, from the south side, pausing
now and then to look back upon the
beautiful view, growing at each pause
more exquisitely love y, would dream
of the awful descent from the oppo
site side ? It is pi-ohable that the
hunters forgot all about the shape of
the mountain at exciting mo
ment. I can scene. Tin
horses’ iron-clad feel binging upon the
rocks, and striking tire as they sped
on and upwards —the wild yells of the
pack, in full chorus, t.s
“ Kook, glen and cavern paid them back !
To many a mingled sound, at once
The awakened mountain gave response.
I stood once among these mountain
passes, by an accident, quite alone.
Oh! the stillness, the eloquence of
solitude, in such a spot! No voice,
but that of some stray bird, echoed to
my call; only the whir of some flying
insect came to my startied ears ! The
Creator seemed to be very near, at
such a time.
The chase after that fox must have
been very wild just there, where I
stood, with the summit so deceptively
near. How the riders ever urged
their horses up those steeps, remains a
mystery! They did go up—up
through bush and oq r jagged rocks,
until there was a lull in the sounds of
the chase. Fainter grew the barks,
and fainter—wilder and wilder gal
loped the huntsmen, when hack fell
the foremost horse upon his haunches,
and his fore feet pawed the air! They
were upon the brink of the precipice!
—the fearful north side, forgotten in
the chase, there it was, just under
their feet, a sheer descent of a mile,
down a perpendicular wall of jagged
black rocks! The master of those
faithful dogs strained his gaze, look
ing for them in an agony of dread.
A faint yelping came back to him
from below. It was plain that the
faithful creatures were still at their
work, in the very face of destruction.
A few more slides, and all would bo
over with them. The master could
look no longer, but covered his face
and turned away. How different
must have been his going down, from
the chase of a few moments before 1
He would have galloped back home,
vainly endeavoring to forget what a
sight there must be at the foot of the
precipice, but some impulse led him
to follow the road to the foot of the
north side. He looked about on every
side, but no traces of the bodies were
there.
“ Look !” cried a friend, pointing to
a cleft in the rocky wall, about half
way up. There, oh, wonderful to
tell, were the dogs, all unhurt! But,
alas, the master’s experience proved
that they might have been in a living
tomb as well. Though every imagin
able means was used by him to got
them out of tho nook, all failed.
Three long days passed away, and he
had only succeeded in conveying to
to them a little food. It was plain
that the will of man could accomplish
nothing, unless he could himself res
cue them. At last the master’s mind
was resolved. He was lashed by
strong ropes, which wero held by
strong men, and ho descended himself,
to a spot where the daring foot of
man had never rested before. He
saved his dogs.
Such beautiful devotion ought to bo
immortalized. Such as my feeble pen
can give, it has received. Who will
dare to dispute that tho spirit of love
does not overrule all things ? C. B.
Savannah, Ga.
The Church and Her Mission.
NUMBER I.
The generally roceived ideas of tho
Church and the mission ofthe Church
are too narrow and far too selfish.
We are prone to judge the world by
the community in which we live, and
by an easy step wo come to limit the
world to this same community. So it
is too often tho case that the Church
is limited in our view to our own de
nomination. And even more. Our
ideas of right and wrong in many
things are shaped by our training and
our circumstances. These views, if
we have strength of character, become
very pronounced, and then we make
them •h ; sU-rida'p! by which to judge
all others. If they do not conform to
what we regard the rule of right we
are disposed to look upon them “as
heathen men and publicans.” Then
the Church becomes limited in our
minds to tho orthodox ; and ortho
doxy is determined by our peculiar
opinions. Asa cortaiu divine once
said, illustrating this natural narrow
ness of view, “Orthodoxy is my doxy
and heterodoxy is your doxy.”
, Now the Church is composed, in its
entirety, of all God’s children every
where. These all have a common
heritage of blessing and hope. The
oneness of ordinances which Christ
gave, was intended to convey this idea
of unity. Christ, by example as well
us by precept, has taught us the great
truth ot the brotherhood of the race.
None are so low that they lose the
common kinship of humanity. God’s
abounding love takes in within its lov
ing folds all men, and with tender
compassion and love, He stoops to woo
tho vilest. While lie loves with spe
cial love those who yield obedience to
Him, lie does not cut off from hope
or drive from tho reach of kindly ef
fort those who do not.
Though the Church— i. e., the true
spiritual Church—is composed only
of those who do “ love the Lord Jesus
Christ in sincerity,” yet it takes in all
these, whatever may be their peculiar
views or practices, and by whatever
name they may ho called; and the mis
sion ofthe Church is to bring in all
others and make them “ living mem
bers of the body of Christ.” Now,
this idea of “ the body,” expresses the
true relationship ofdiffereut Christians
and at the same time enforces the
truth of the unity of the whole. “As
we have many members in our body
aud all members have not the same
office, so we being many are one body
in Christ and every one members one
of another.” Can any language con
vey more clearly the idea of the es
sential unity of all Christians, and at
the same time express more pointedly
the differences which must of neces
sity exist among them, both in con
struction of religious character and
in peculiar work. Why then should
we narrow our views ofthe Church
to our denomination, or to those hold
ing essentially our particular opin
ions ? “ For the body is not one
member, but many. If tho foot shall
shall say, because I am not the hand
I am not of the body, is it, therefore,
not ofthe body ? And if the ear should
say, because I am not tho eye I am
not of the body, is it, therefore, not
of the body ? If the whole body were
an eye where were the hearing?
If the whole were hearing where
were the smelling? But now hath
God set the members, every one of
them, in the body as it hath pleased
Him. And if they were all one mem
ber where were the body? But now
are they many members, yet but one
body.” How clear this argument for
essential unity even in official, and if
of necessity, therefore, in doctrinal
difference 1 If we could take in the
lesson which this language is intend
ed to teach, what an enlargement of
sympathy and enjoyment would it
bring to us 1 It would end the conflict
between the different “ members,” and
unite “the body ” in its work of sav
ing tho world, and bringing all men
under the dominion of the truth.
Crisfus.
Christian Philanthropy.
Never did the eye of the American
behold a spectacle so appalling as the
sweep of the plague through the val
ley of the Mississippi. It is a valley
of the dead. Cities have been con
sumed. New Orleans and Memphis
have howled in anguish, tens of thous
ands of dead and dying human be
ings have loaded the air with pesti
lence, and tens of thousands of tho
living have fled in terror before the
breath of the destroyer. The heart
grows sick at tho scene, and strong
men stand appalled at the strokes of
Providence.
But the other sido of the picture
presents a view which inspires every
man with the spirit of tho noblest
philanthropy. Never before was seen
such simultaneous sympathy gushing
from every mountain and valley of
the continent. Cities have becomo
good Samaritans, and have poured out
the healing charity of millions of dol
lars into the wounds of a dying neigh
bor. llow much more like the love
the Master is this spirit, than that
temper which takes delight in rub
bing the biting salt of sarcasm into
the gaping wounds of the prostrate
South. The war opened a chasm be
tween the two great sections of tho
country. But the men who once
marched through that bloody chasm
have turned their swords into reaping
hooks to harvest charity for their for
mer foes.
The spring of philanthropy lios
deeper than sympathy. “He that
doeth good is of God.” Ho has tho
character in this of God. Sympathy
becomes exhausted, or is precarious;
but the fount of perennial charity,
which is the spirit of doing good, is
fed by the inexhaustible love of God.
“Charity never faileth.” When a
worthy cause appeals to tho enlight
ened conviction of a good man, he
will respond, even though his circum
stances may be embarrassing. Never
before was there such a financial dis
aster, and such wide spread distress
over the land as at the present
time; yet never before was such
fl node- charily by tho
American people. Providence has
mysteriously overruled the com
mercial disaster of the North and the
pestilence in tho South, to produce co
incident sufferings, from which has
issued a truer spirit of brotherhood
than was ever before evinced by these
rival sections. This spirit has led to
a better interpretation of the fire
which destroyed Chicago, and the
plague wiiich consumes New Orleans.
Men are beginning to see that neither
was a target of Divine vengeance,
and that Providence cannot he inter
preted by events, but bj’ principles.
The cross is no proof that tho cruci
fied was a malefactor. God and Prov
idence are one. The affairs of the
world are managed in the interest of
God’s good will towards every crea
ture, for even the severest disasters
become sanctified blessings. The sym
pathy of the North shows that she no
longer regards her Southern neighbor
as cursed and smitten by Heaven, but
that she recognizes in the deeper and
better convictions of her people, the
call of God to every man to work in
harmony with the Divine character, by
acting tho part of the good Samari
tan towards every suffering creature.
In this work of philanthropy, the
heroism of martyrs, who have thrown
themselves into the very jaws of
death to succor the dying, shows that
the spirit of divine charity is just as
heaven-inspired in acts of noble sacri
fice at the South, as at the North in
acts of disinterested generosity. The
churches of both sections have been
drawn together by the same spirit, in
common prayer, which has covered
the whole land with sweet incense of
fered for the sufferers. Every good
man is supplicating in his closet in be
half of his dying neighbor. May the
sympathy dictated by an exposure to
common suffering inspire anew senti
ment of Christian brotherhood, which
shall make this great people, of every
religious denomination and of every
class of tho Commonwealth, one in
every good work, for the glory of
God, in the true prosperity aud hap
piness of the whole land.
J. T. WIGHTMAN.
I know of but one way of fortify
ing my soul against gloomy presages
and terrors of mind, and that is, by
securing to myself the friendship and
protection of that Being who disposes
of events and governs futurity. He
sees at one view the whole thread of
my existence, not only that part of it,
which 1 have already passed through,
hut that which runs forward into tho
depths of eternity. When 1 lay me
down to sleep, I recommend myself to
his care; when I awake, I give my
self up to his direction. Amidst all
the evils that threaten me, I will look
up to him for help, and question not
but he will avert them, or turn them
to my advantage. Though 1 know
neither the time nor the manner of
the death that 1 am to die, 1 am not at
all solicitous about it, because 1 am
sure that he knows them both, and
that he will not fail to comfort und
support me under them.— Addison.
F. M. KENNEDY, D. D Editor.
Rev. S. A. WEBER Associate Editor.
WHOLE NUMBER 2111.
International Lessons.
FOURTH QUARTER —LESSON II —OOT. 13.
THE GOSI’EL FEAST. Luko xiv : 15-24.
Golden Text. —Blessed is ho that
shall eat bread in tho kingdom of
God.—Yer. 15.
The time and place of this lesson
are unknown. Jesus was dining with
one of tho chief Pharisees, on tho Sab
bath day. This parable is peculiar to
Luke. In our last lesson, the Saviour
taught, while ho journeyed; in this,
teaches while at dinner. Always
teaching; always working. Tho man
ner of teaching was by asking and
answering questions. Every incident
of life, even tho most common, was
made to illustrate, and enforce tho
truths ho was teaching.
1. Blessed is he that shall eat bread
in the kingdom of God. —This was
spoken by a devout man. Ho may
have thought, with other Jews, that
the Saviour would establish a perfect
kingdom here, and in that event the
man would be truly blessed, who
should enjoy that kingdom with him ;
or ho may have, in anticipation, been
looking forward to that heavenly
kingdom which is prepared for the
righteous. In boih senses, this is cor
rect. The faithful subject of Christ’s
kingdom on earth is truly blessed.
No one is as happy and cheerful as
the humble servant of the Saviour.
Tho subjects of the kingdoms of this
world may he very happy in the hours
of health and youth, and prosperity,
but let disease, and affliction, and ad
versity come, and they have no con
solation in tho joys of tho past.
Christ’s followers are happy every
where, and under all conditions of life.
2. The Invitation. —This man was
rich. Ho desired to call in his friends
and entertain them. He had enough
and to spare. So with our Hoavenly
Father. His invitation is to the
whole world. He invites them to a
feast which will satisfy tho soul. Whilo
a man sits down with the Master and
partakes of the bread which he will
give him, he will never hunger.
Are you trying to satisfy the longing
of the soul with the bread which per
isheth ? Human ambition will not
satisfy you. Political fame will not
comfort you in declining years. Mo
ney acquired and well used, will not
cause you to be blessed by God. Even
a life devoted to the building up of a
great people did not console the good
Queen Elizabeth, in her last moments.
If you wish to he happy, accept the
invitation to tho gospel feast, and go
atonee, “for all things are now ready.”
3. The Refusal. —The invited persons
had no special objection to the feast,
but they preferred to attend to their
business. This was a great breach of
politeness. When a man makes a
feast and invites you twice, drop every
tiling and go, if possible. It is a down
right insult to neglect an earnest
invitation, when you have no excuse.
One desired to go out and look at a
piece of land he had bought; that’
could have been postponed. Another
wished to prove, or make trial olj a
yoke of oxen. That could have been
attended to next day. The third
plead domestic duties, and answered
rather rudely for a man who had just
married a wife. The first man plead
necessity, and was polite ; the second
plead business, and was also respect
ful : the third spoke of family ties,
and was very rude. So, in our day,
we make a thousand weak excuses
for not going to this gospel feast, to
wnieh all have been invited. One lets
his traffic in real estate keep him
away ; another is engaged in business
of various sorts, aud has no time in
the week, and when Sunday comes
ho is too tired. His family and every
day companions keep the third one
away. These flimsy excuses may sat
isfy those making them; hut the
Master ot the gospel feast turns a
deaf ear to such. Accept this invi
tation to-day. Leave lands, and
stores, and oxen, and go at once. If
your wife will not go with you, go
without her; but nine cases in ten,
perhaps, it is the other way; the wife
goes without the husband.
4. The Needy Accept the Invita
tion. — When the mixed multitude of
hungry paupers, such as an eastern
city can furnish, heard the invitation,
they gladly went. So tho spiritually
poor, and lame, and blind, are more
ready to go to the gospel feast than
those who do not feel the necessity
of this. When this multitude came
in from tho streets, there was still
room, and the servants were sent out
into the highways and hedges to
gather in tho homeless and destitute;
just such persons as we call tramps
in this day. Some commentators say
this lesson was intended especially for
the Jews, who rejected Christ, show
ing that tho Gentiles would come in
before them.
5. The Servants. —These servants
yielded a prompt obedience. They
never hesitated a moment when tho
order was given. So should the min
isters, or servants of the Master, act
to-day. They should never press a
rich or influential man more earnestly
than the poor outcasts of society.
6. God will Excuse Us. —He gives
the invitation. The door is open, the
table is spread, ample provision made,
the servants ready, go to this feast.
If you make an excuse to-day and to
morrow, you may not go at all. God
will excuse you. This is clearly
taught in this lesson, as well as the
last. If you fail to sit down with the
Master in the kingdom above, you
will havo no one to blame butyourself.