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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.