Southern Christian advocate. (Macon, Ga.) 18??-18??, November 02, 1878, Image 1
lIVO DOLLABS AND FIFTY CENTS
PER
VOL. XLI., NO. 35.
[For the Southern Christian Advocate.]
In Memoriam.
Again an awful shadow rests on happy homes
and hearts ;
Again from eyes once lit with love the tear
of anguish starts ;
And o'er a violet-vested mound, pale melan
choly keeps
Her silent vigils for the dead, while pensive
sorrow weeps.
0, hide from me this daisied dust—these flow
ers that blossom so !
They only mock the beautiful, laid in the
earth below 1
Hushed be your songs, O singing birds ! ye
do but mock that voice,
Whoso tender tones can nevermore make
mottal hearts rejoice!
Ah, no ! your many melodies are only breath
ed in vain ;
She cannot listen to them now —she never
will again!
And birds may carol sweetly still, aud roses
brightly bloom,
But they—alas!—can never wake an echo
from the tomb.
They cannot ease the agony that kindred
hearts must feel,
For her whose death has left a wound which
time can never heal;
Earth has no solace for their grief, nor can it
soothe their loss,
They can but seek in their despair the shad
ow of the Cross !
Dear Lord ! if that these stricken ones should
murmur as they bow
Beneath that “ chastening rod,” which seems
to fall so heavy now,
Forgive them, in that they have lost all that
made life so sweet,
Their earthly idol, like a flower, lies broken
at their feet 1
Even on the verge of womanhood, her peace
ful spirit fled,
And while she winged her flight to Heaven
they mourned her here as dead ;
While on her Saviour’s bosom lay the soul
he died to save.
Earth’s children wept above the dust that
mantled o’er her grave !
Is it not better as it is —that she should bo
above,
In that bright world where all is peace, hap
piness and love t
is .... H scr Seating
days and years,
FI or weeping, for the Lord himself shall wipe
away her tears 1
She is not lost —she waits for you upon the
other side,
And if a river flows between, its waters are
not tvide !
In that blest world, whose golden streets her
angel-feet have trod,
Heart beats to heart, and hand clasps hand
eternally , thank God! F. L. S.
A Letter from Dr. L. Pierce.
Brother Weber: A little about the
introduction of Methodism into that
part of South Carolina west of Barn
well Courthouse, and on what was
called the Three Buns of Savannah
Eiver in the days of' my boyhood,
may be interesting to some of your
readers. It will take me a little fur
ther back. My father, Captain Lovick
Pierce, came from .North Carolina,
Halifax County, near Boanoke River,
in 1788, and settled on Tinker Creek,
it being then in Orangeburg District.
I can remember well his having to
go to Orangeburg to court, as a juror.
Barnwell District was afterwards
made, and our dwelling place was
only twelve miles from Barnwell,
which gave us of Tinker Creek
homes great relief, as to court duties
and interests. It was all Districts
then.
It will sound strange to you of to
day for me to tell you that region was
all wild, vacant lands, belonging to
the State at that time. So my father
obtained what they called a land war
rant, for six hundred and forty acres,
and located it to suit himself—the
State guaranteeing it afterwards. On
this section of land we lived until
February, 1804, when he sold out and
settled in Georgia. We lived there to
be twelve in family, and never had a
case of sickness, save only three little
eases of chill and fever that I had
when about twelve years old. Of
course we had no death in our
family, nor was there ever a dose of
medicine taken in our family.
As it will now fall in with the won
derful issues of time, I will state that
although this creek was now pretty
thickly settled, and up where we lived
had on its west side a marsh, in some
places very wet and boggy, more than
a quarter of a mile in width, there
never was but one adult died on the
creek during my sojourn on it; he
died of a billious inflammatory fever;
and two little cousins of mine, with
bloody flux, three deaths in all. This
is good Tinker Creek history. I have
often said that portion of Barnwell
PUBLISHED BY WALKER, EVANS & COGSWELL FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
CHARLESTON, S. C., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1878.
will remain unrivaled for healthful
ness with mo, as long as I live.
My brother Reddick, of wholesome
memory in South Carolina, and my
self, were born in North Carolina, but
were raised up in South Carolina, on
this Tinker Creek homestead, from
which we both entered the itinerant
ministry in Charleston, Christmas
week, in 1804.
This region of country, under re
port now, in my boyhood days was
entirely destitute of houses of wor
ship and ministers of grace. Only
one preaching place, in a private
house, by a Baptist preacher named
Delaughter, within our roach, until
1801, when Old Edisto Circuit was
enlarged from a four into a six weeks
Circuit, and my uncle Lewis Weath
ersby let them preach in his dwelling
house. Here our family, all that were
old enough, joined the church as pro
bationers, my father and mother, and
brother and oldest sister, and myself
three weeks after. It being a six
weeks Circuit, and only two preach
ers, we had preaching once in three
weeks. These two years —1802-3—
we had a preacher in charge, Thomas
Darley. In 1803 we built a neat little
log meeting-house, on my father’s
land, the first house of worship ever
built in that section of country. In
August of that year, on one of Dar
ley’s days, was seen the first instance
of that marvelous power in which the
worst sinners were struck dumb, as if
in death, as the first sign of convic
tion. And what made it the occasion
of wonder and suspicion was, that
Darley told them when he got up, if
his feelings did not deceive him they
would see strange things there that
day. Aud of course all enemies of
the Methodists charged bis anticipa
tion of it to some fraudulent enchant
ment. To us it was the more aston
ing, because my father-having
nearcl Of these fallings down, an 3 get
tings up, and professing conversion—
had often said if any one was to fall
down in that way where he was, he
would stamp his hypocrisy out of him.
He was a large, athletic man, well
kuown; but he was the first man
ever struck down by the Holy Ghost
in that region. I looked on it as sud
den death—was in awful trouble. But
he joyfully revived ; and I was soon
converted, and commenced shouting.
A little on the civil side. My ob
servation on this side of society, dur
ing seventy-five years, and all the
time on the moral watch tower, may
be utilized. Civilization, misused,
feeds depravity. And by depravity I
mean, rather an underlying stratum
of sin, than its overt acts. These, as
far as common indulgences may go,
are always found rampant in that
grade of civilization first after modi
fied barbarian life. So in my boy
hood days when men fell out and
must be revenged if they could, they
fought, using their fists, but never
using stick, knife or pistol. No dead
ly weapon Avas ever used in a personal
rencounter. Somo of the more fero
cious sometimes bit a nose or ear, or
finger—maiming one another, and
were severely punished by courts.
The self-created nobility, who felt
this mode of seeking satisfaction to
be too low for them, fought duels, or
else let it go.
While we have gained somewhat in
the way of material wealth, we have
fallen, in two respects, far below our
moral plane seventy-five years ago.
I mean in what I will call commer
cial integrity. The moral obligation
to fulfill business promises has dwin
dled into vapor. And murder has risen
into custom. I suppose there is not
in the wide world another nation
where civilization and Christianity
dwell together, as blood-stained, by
voluntary killing, as America. This
blot upon what enthusiasts call a free
government —which, by the by, is a
misnomer—must be accounted for in
some other way, or our republi
can form of government is an awful
failure.
But it can be accounted for clearly,
and may be easily remedied, in so far
as this wanton killing is in the way.
All we need is strong law, expressed
so as to be unpervertible by employed
counsel. In our present codes of law
there are too many grades and shades
in murder. It is all wrong. All vol
untary killing is murder. It cannot
be graded down to manslaughter and
justifiable homicide, aud so on. Let
our Legislatures simply declare that
all voluntary killing shall be rated
and treated as murder, and enforce it
rigorously, and 1 will go security that
this dog-killing fashion of killing men
will cease. So at least as to put an
end to all this system of public slaugh
ter. My readers will excuse mo for
these memories of the past, and for
my advice offered as a voluntary.
My second number will be of old
camp-meetings in my day, in South
Carolina, which will be now to this
generation of Methodists.
L. Pierce.
Faith and Scepticism.
BY THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
NUMBER ONE.
The word “science” now-a-days is
often so used that it might seem that
there is no science in the world but
the science which treats of material
nature. Some persons, L say, aro so
little acquainted with the great scope
of scientific subjects, that they confine
the name “ science ” to more material
or physical science, and forget that
there is a science of mind, both moral
and intellectual, older and greater than
any science which deals with matter;
that tbero is a science of politics ;
that history is capable of being treated
scientifically. It was taught of old,
in the great University to which I
have the honor to belong, that there
is a Mother and Queen of all scieneos,
which treats of man, the highest ob
ject in creation—of his life here, and
his hopes hereafter—of'God who made
him, and of his relation to his Maker ;
and this greatest of all sciences is
tho science of Theology. Now, I am
here to maintain that, in tho truest
sense of tho word, we may have scien
tific proof of the truth of the Christian
religion. lam here to maintain that
science halotruly, if out
more truly, to the subjects on which I
now address you, as to those to which
the word is now so commonly con
fined. There is one branch of science,
indeed, which rests always on demon
stration, which has to do with self
evident and immutable truth, —truths
about which there cannot possibly bo
doubt; but thut branch of science is
entirely confined to pure mathematics.
That two and two make four, and that
tho two angles of a triangle are togeth
er less than the third : these are of
course propositions which no man out
of alunatic asylum is allowed to doubt.
Tho subjects of this sort of science aro
very limited indeed ; they are confined,
as as 1 have said, to pure mathematics :
and tho whole of material or physical
science rests not on reasoning of this
kind. It has to do with the same sort
of probable and experimental reason
ing which we use in matters of com
mon life, on which we believe the tes
timony of history, and which we ap
ply to all the ordinary subjects with
which wo are concerned, either in our
speculations apart from pure mathe
matics, or in the regulation of our con
duct. Those gentlemen who exclu
sively claim to themselves—or at least
to whom is given—tho name of “sci
entific ” men, forget perhaps —or those
who apply the name to them forget—
that the very first principles on which
they conduct their reasonings are not
matters of mathematical certainty ;
that they have to take for granted
things incapable of proof to those who
doubt them. A man who is going to
speculate on the subject of the mate
rial universe, must first of all take for
granted the existence of something
outside his own mind : and how is he
to prove this, if either himself or any
one else doubts it. The thing must
be taken for granted, and the taking
it for granted is a departure at once
from the region of that demonstrative
science which has to do oniy with im
mutable, self-evident truth. Again,
this man must take for granted that
the experience of the past is a criteri
on as to what is to come in the future.
But there can be no experience of the
future, and therefore the thing is mere
ly taken forgranted. It is incapable
of being proved ; and the man who
speculates on outward matters, or
something existing beyond his own
mind, and lases his speculations on
the process of experiment, at once de
parts from the region of pure mathe
matical science, and is in the same re
gion of probible evidence as that in
which our other speculations are con
ducted.
1 grant that those who confine them
selves to truths of phyiscal science,
and say that wo ought to make these
the basis of all our assertions of posi
tive truth, have this advantage, that
there is in their particular studies some
thing stable, and upon the whole sat
isfying ; that there is nothing in them
beyond the reach of our easy compre
hension when tho experiments aro
once fully explained ; and therefore I
quite understand the sort of language
which at times they use, warning peo
ple that they had better be contented
with that of which they have distinct
experimental evidence, and not lose
themselves in the mazes of these spec
ulations which have to do with the
things unseen. I can quite understand
the force of such language, and the
attractiveness of such solid studies,
but they will not suffice for beings con
stituted as we are. It is all very well
to have to do with tho things seen, and
temporal, and capable of being touch
ed aud handled, and tested by experi
ment of the senses so long as we are
confining ourselves to the very brief
span of that short life which is passing
so rapidly away with each of us. Of
all tho facts which experience estab
lishes, there is no fact so certain as
that each of us hero shall die ; and it is
the part of wisdom, or of true science,
to say, “ I will take cognizance of
those tilings alone of which I have on
ly an experience which must termi
nate at my death ? If death be a sol
emn, as it is a certain, fact; if, for each
of us here present, death he waiting,
and all that is beyond it has to do
with the unseen, and all that passes
while wo enter on it must bo of the
region of things which cannot bo test
ed by our common experiences hero,
it is the part of reasonable beings at
once to settle that they have nothing
to do with what lies beyond death ?
They cannot, tell with any certainty
that death is the end; and, if it bo
not the end, what folly to have acted
as if you were certain that it was the
end? What man can be worthy of
the name of philosopher who would
tell us so to act ? Death is the cer
tain fact; but what death is, we know
not. Wo know that we have chang
ed continually since we first entered
on our being. We know® that the in
fant is totally unlike tho man in his
maturity ; and yet that ho is the
same man. We know that tho pow
ers of mind may continue, while the
body is wasting away to tho very
last verge of our earthly existence;
and wo know nothing which can tell
us, that when the verge is reached,
those powers, which seem independ
ent of tho body, are to end because
the body dies. Nay, even on a mate
rial hypothesis, suppose we grant for
a moment that the soul resides in
matter, aro we not told of solid inde
structible particles of matter? Who
shall tell us whether the soul, even
according to a material hypothesis,
does not reside in one of those parti
cles which no known power in nature
has ever been supposed to be capable
of dissolving, according to materialis
tic theories ? And, therefore, how
can I know that the soul which has
been in me ever since I was a baby,
which has passed with me through all
those changes of my changeful life,
which seems altogether independent
of tho outward organizations of my
frame, is to go out, like the flame of a
candle, when I have come to that pe
riod of my existence which we call
death? And, if it be that the soul aud
mind aro thus to live, strengthened by
the fact that the greatest intellects
that have ever lived have recognized
that the soul is immortal; that the
poets, the philosophers, the theolo
gians, all the men who have ever given
themselves to tho study of these great
subjects—those who have influenced
the human race in the highest stages
ofits civilization —have been convinced
that there was that within them which
death could not extinguish? My
friends, he is no true philosopher who
tells us that we need not trouble our
selves as to what will happen when we
come to that great event which we
call death. There is every reason to
believe—and the arguments, which it
would bo vain of course to attempt to
enter on here, are to be found in all
the books that have treated on the
subject—there is every reason to be
lieve, as a matter of science, that death
is not tho end ; and if death bo not
the end, tho man is mad who does not
THE FLOWERS COLLECTS
F. M. KENNEDY, D. D Editor.
Rev. S. A. WEBER.Associate Editor.
WHOLE NO. 2115.
make preparation for that which lies
beyond death.— MacMillian’s Maga
zine.
Varieties.
What an orator James A. Duncan
was! How tho Virginians and Mary
landers must miss him! In his speech
on fraternity, in ’76, wo find this elo
quentpassage ; “ From the Northern
border of it (our country) where God’s
perpetual how of peace glorifies Niag
ara’s cliffs, to the sea-girt Southern
line, where God’s gifts made earth
almost an Edon of fragrance and
beauty ; and from tho rock-bound At
lantic, where the Eastern song of the
sea begins its morning music, away to
the far off Pacific, where the Western
waters murmur their evening bene
diction to our land as tho tide goes out
beneath tho setting sun, everywhere
we feel the inspirations of our coun
try, and devoutly pray, “ God bless
j our native land !” f
I Wo may differ about the “ higher
| life,” as some call that state of grace
, we Methodists call Christian perfec
j tion, but all true Christians agree in
! “ hungering and thirsting after right
eousness.” This craving of the soul
after God leads His people to tho
fountain of supplies, where they find
pardon, cleansing, lovo and joy. Thus
they will “goon to perfection.” O
how often our souls pant after Him,
“ as the hart panteth after tho water
brook 1” How does the converted
heart cry, “ early will I seek thee; my
soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh long
eth for thee in a dr}’ and thirsty land
where no water is ; to see thy power
and thy glory, so as 1 have seen thee
in tho sanctuary!” And while we
“thirst” wo are “filled.” Then His
loving kindness is better than life.”
We will then rejoice in our Master’s
w; Ja, ” Be ye therefore perfect, even
as your Father which is in heaven, is
perfect.” Let us not argue about tho
name of the dish served up for God’s
people, but see to it that wo are “filled.”
G. H. W.
But there is a way to he adding
ever-increasing beauty and glory to
the bouse of'God. Oh, that we may
prize it more and more ! Go out into
the lanes and highways ; find somo
outcast wretch—some stray fragment
of the universal wreck of man, some
trampled stone in the miry clay;
sound aloud the word of the Lord, that
harp of blessed music by which the
Spirit draws man-kind to Christ.
By-and-by, under tho power of God
blessing tho word, that soul is awa
kened to a sense of ruin and want,
and is led, in captivity of
the truth, to Christ. No sooner does
he touch a man, than tho virtue of
a now life comes unto him, and ho
lives. Tho love of God is shed abroad
in his heart. The beautiful garniture
j of inward graces, more precious than
! the most fine gold, adorns him. He
| is united to Christ, and through him
|to God. Hero is the honor of the
Church, tho preciousness of the gospel,
and the glory of the grace of God.
How wonderful that communication
j of life, that resurrection from tho dead,
I that ascension of the regenerate soul
| “ to sitin heavenly places with Christ!”
' Look unto the rock whence he was
; hewn, and tho hole of the pit whence
Ihe was digged ! How is God glorified
j in such an addition to his Church ?
i What joy is it to the angels that do
his will ? By such is the Church a
building of God. Thus does it rise to
ward heaven. They are thy jewels,
daughter of Zion ; “ thy walls, salva
tion ; thy gates, praise.”— Exchange.
The way in which pastors are se
cured for the Church of England va
cancies is showD by the following ad
vertisement which appeared lately in
the London Times: “Next presenta
tion to a living in a favorite part of
Buckinghamshire, where the popula
tion is small and the society good.
Comfortable residence, grounds and
outbuildings. The present incumbent
is 75, in a very bad state of health. In
come exceeds =£3oo (SI,500) a year.
If sold at once , no reasonable offer re
fused."
There were seven deaths among the
whites, and twenty-one among tho
colored people, in Charleston during
the week endng October 26,