GENESEE EVANGELIST.— Whole No. 712. THE JOYS OP HEAVEN. “Eye hath not seen, ear hath not beard,” What joys the Father hath prepared, For those who love Hls holy word, And in HU saving grace have shared! “The heart of man” hath not “conceived” The blessedness reserved for those Who In the Saviour’s name believe, And are redeemed from endless woes! Priceless, beyond all price, they are, Richer than richest gem of earth, Brighter than heaven’s,brightest star, Pure and immortal in their birth! Lord, grant that we may taste those joys! May rise to that sublime abode! And, freed from earth’s distracting noUe, May dwell for ever with our God! Then -will we join the sainted choir, * to praising God for sins forgiven ; ~ And raise the halleluiahs higher.. That s welTlfc& BGly iSouits or £ISfeH7~ For the American Presbyterian. ANCIENT JERUSALEM AND SACRED PLACES, Messrs. Editors I hate obtained and ex amined the picture of Jerusalem and its vicinity, "published by the American Sunday School Union,” It comes recommended by many gentlemen of learning, some of whom hare been on the ground, and I supposed that I was securing for our Sunday School, Bible classes, and lectures, a very accurate and re liable help to the study of the , Scriptures. The view of the city of Jerusalem, the hills on which it stands —the two pools, and valley of Gihon, with the sepulchres in its southern, rocky side—the valley of Jeboshaphat, with' one exception, are accurately and admirably repre sented. This part of thefpicture is worth the cost of the whole. Many other points of this most interesting section of the Holy Land are so exhibited as, at once to throw great light upon'; tho Bible narrative, v aiid the descriptions of tra vellers. The effort is a commendable one, and 1 trust will be continued, until those who have not the advantages of eastern travel, may sit at home and look upon an accurate delineation of these sacred scenes. But to some parts of this "isometrical pic ture” there appears to me to be grave objec tions In regird to accuracy. My difficulties may arise because I do not get the perspective, or, beeanse there are authorities for the relative locaticn of places, which I have not seen—-yet 1 have seen Robinson’s Researches, Thompson’s Land and Book, Coleman’s Text Book and Atlas, Durbin’s Travels, the Unidn Bible Dic tionary, &c. In regard to such an- excellent undertaking, I hesitate to point out errors, lest more harm than good maybe done, and I write, therefore, more to have my own conceptions put tight, if they ure> wrong, than to find fault. Allow me thea 'to inquire of know: 1. Does Wady Ahmed begin- west of Jar muth? I had supposed that its head was north-east of Solomon’s Fools, and that it ran north-east some, two .miles west of Bethlehem, and then turned ! ttf* the north-west and united with Wady Werd. , 2. On eveiy reliable map that I have seen, Jarmuth is 1 some three miles south of Beth She mesh, and a little farther from Jerusalem than B, S. In the-picture, Jarmuth-Is east of B. S. and abont half way to Jerusalem from Beth Shemesh. It may be that Ido not understand the perspective." 8, Ib Zorah down in a valley and not on a hill “as steep and regular almost as a volcanic cone?” 4. I had thought that Bethlehem was west of south from Jerusalem. On the picture it ap pears to tie east of south, while Rachel’s tomb is south-west from Bethlehem! Is it-the per spective that makes this? . 5. Ohe Of the things which has very much embarrassed me in this picture, "constructed from the most reliable and authentic sources,” is the extension to the north of the brook Ki dron, from the point where the valley of Ja hoshaphat turns to the west,; at the north-east corner of the city. I had imbibed the notion that, the Mount of Olives bent round to the west, making It impossible for water from the north to flow south into Kidron. On my copy, the water begins near Abraham’s tents,' srimfe, 12 miles north of Jerusalem, and flows south to Kidron: Does the American Sunday School Union tell this to the children ? Dr. Robinson says the view from Mt. Olivet, where the road to Anatboth crosses.its ridges, is better than from Scopus, and that north and east of that point, the valleys run toward Jordan.' 6. Gibeon (Bljlb) is usually, and I bad sup posed correctly, represented as about equally distant from Jerusalem and Bethel, north-west from Jerusalem and south-west from Bethel, seven or eight miles. But in the picture Gibeon seems to be farther .from Jerusalem, than Bethel l The maps put Gibeon abont where Beeroth is in the picture, a little more to the south-west. Perhaps the perspective makes it proper that Gibeon should appear as it does in the picture. 1. How can Ajalon be put down as south east of Beth Huron, and in a valley, too, when travellers tell as it is south-west, and on the side of a hill? Indeed, its position on the maps would not allow it to appear in this picture at all, unless there is some way of drawing it in which I do not understand! 8. Kirjath Jearlm is put by Robinson, Os borne, Coleman and others, & little sooth of west from Mispeh, (Neby Samwil) so that it lies on their maps abont where Emrnana.does in the picture, ip relation to Mispeh. Bdt in the pic ture it is east of south front Mispeh, and appa rently abont half-4m far from But. is It not further from Jerusalem than Mispeh? Perhaps the framer of the picture locates this place at Kufonieb, nearly half way to Jerusalem from Kuryet el Enab. It wonld by lid means be just to insist upon strict accuracy, in every little detail of typo graphy, in so difficult an undertaking as the constructing andshading ofsuch a picture must “ e ; but when relative positions and distances are so altered in many important instances, as to confirm, or contradict the most reliable g'e'o- graphical statements, that which was intended as a help to correct Scriptural knowledge be comes a hinderance. How, by any explanations of perspective could a Sunday School, looking at'ftc picture, believe that Jarmuth was south of Beth Shemesh and as far from Jerusalem? Which, in the picture, is the “Camel road” froin St. Stephen’s Gate to Bethany, so plainly laid down and described by Dr. Durbin and others, where “the steepness of the Mount of Olives on the left, and of the. Hill of Offence on the right, necessarily fixes the location of the road -the very path the Saviour trod many times?” My serious conviction is, that “The Manual ” to this view should contain more ex tended explanations of the operation of perspec tive, so as to reconcile the wide discrepancies, as they appear to common minds, jbetween the picture and reliable Biblical geographers, or, that the picture should be reconstructed and £ioij£- accurately tp the well-” - known positions ancl distances of thevicinity of , .Xoucs,-trtrfy, en» W. B. p. THE FIRST REVIVAL NEWS. , Messrs, Editors, —I send you a brief extract from a late number of the “Archives du Chris tianisme au XIX»- Steele,” the oldest religious pkper in France, edited by Rev. Dr. Frederic Monod. It is with deep emotion that under the head “Domestic,” we for the first time write' the words: Religious Revival. We know that there .hare been some manifestations of:an awakening in several places, but we had hitherto received no direct intelligence, on. the subject, and in such matters we are unwilling to speak from hearsay. Here, at last, is an abstract from a letter written by a Christian entitled to all confidence, who was himself a witness of and a partaker in the scenes that he relates; his testimony is entirely trust worthy. We suppress the names of places and persohsi We pray God that that blessed experi ence of the poker .of prayer may not be' lost .-amongst us, but that it may prove the first, tfrhits of an abundant harvest. The Lord, in order ;to grant, it, is only waiting for the prayer of ; faith. There is neither in the word nor in the providence of God anything that can stand in the way off our obtaining for our France an outpouring of the Spirit, like unto that which for the last two years has been reviving the churches of God in the United States. The obstacles are only in oufselves. It is needless to add that our columns are open to all -authentic communications: of the same nature that may he transmitted to us. It is by the pub lication of the’ great things that the Lord is doing, that:hearts will beiwatmed to wish, for and faith stirred up to a share of the same blessings. Here is our : “The Lord is’!now beginning a reviving work of grace "people. Oh our communion Sabbath in September, a few "friends to‘ whqih I bad been reading an account of the American Rtfyival asked ,m@ whether L wohld, open mj' house every evening for a prayer meeting. I heartily cohsehted. We began that very night. There were six of us—all men. The first whfek jour ntftnber did not increase; nothing occurred refreshed- and strengthened in our solils. The •second week a school mistress and three ybttng' ladies expressed a wish to join With vis. We prayed, for them, and daring one of oar meetings their hearts were melted under the .power of' the Holy Spirit; they shed many teats, confessed their sins,-and a feW days afterward found peace. It was h. moment of Sftch solemnity as I had never known before. “From that time the impulse was given; our faith in the power of prayer was strengthened', and we lived a new life. Backsliding souls cUme among us and were restored to their first-love and their* first joy; All the persons for Whom we prayed received a blessing. What we have asked the Lord to give, he has given. Wednesday last, especially, has been a day of rich blessing; three persons asked an interest in our pray'ers: among them wrist: a : woman, a very devil, a plague to her family,: the chief promoter of all worldliness in our village, turning her house into a dancing saloon, That woman asked for our prayers. We must con fess that, at the first moment, out faith: failed. I, most of all, Was staggered; however, I took cou rage! I told the persons that -were met together for prayer,—abouttwenty in number,- —that upon the issue of the straggle upon” which we were about to enter depended the whole course of the revival whioh was'just beginning in the midst of us ; —that if we were conquered, ,our faith .would be broken and it would be all over with us. I reminded them of the Saviour’s promise: “What soever ye shall ask the Father in my name, that will I do.” We cried to the Lord in great anguish. After two hours of wrestling, w.e were all broken dgjvn, but we had conquered. The poor sinher opened her ,mouth to cry for mercy. The nextday the first thirii she.did was to run tp her. husband to tell him. of the great things the Lord had done for her. To one of opr friends she said yesterday,"while holding her hand: ‘ Yes, i am the 1 Lord’s; I am entirely his: I am his forever.’ “Yon see, my dear friend, that it is not neces sary to go to America or to Ireland to behold the wonderful effects of the grace of God: all that is Necessary is to pray with faith in the name of. Je sus.” It is a remarkable and very inatruetivo'fact .that many of the most important operations eff nature arp.carried on in an unbroken silence. -There is no rushing sound when the broad tide of sunlight breaks on a dark world and floods it with-glory,, as one bright wave after another falls from the foun tain, millions of miles away! Thereis no creak-, ing of heavy axles.or groaning of cumbrous ma chinery, as the solid earth wheels on its-way, and every planet and system performs its revolutions.; The' great trees bring forth their boughs.and sha dow the earth beneath them—the plants cover themselves with buds, and the buds burst into flow ers; bat the whole "transaction is-unheard. The change from snow and winter winds to the blos soms and fruits and sunshine of summer, is seen in its slow development, but there is scarcely a sound- to tell of the mighty transformation. . The solemn chant of the ocean, at it raises its unchanged and unceasing voice, theroar of the hurricane, and the ; soft notes of the t breeze, the rushing of -tho mountain river, and tbo thunder of the blaek hrowed storm; all this is the music of nature—a great and swelling anthem of pp%e, breaking in on the universal'calin. There is ; a lesson- fonts here. The mightiest worker in tbe»universe is the most unobtrusive. Moravian Missions. —Their operations have been greatly extended within the last thirty-five years. In 1822 they; had 33 stations, to which were attached congregations amounting to 30,000 souls, under the care of 108 laborers, male and fetnale. At p/esent the number of stations is 73. The congregations connected with these number in all 74°,187, of whom 21,000 are communicants. The number of baptized children is 20,000, almost all of whom are in attendance at school. Of male and female agents there are in all. 304 i From the commencement there have been 1,646 persons en gaged in the Society’s labors. religious revival. SILENCE Uff NATURE. “I DWELL AMONGST MINE OWN PEOPLE." Touchingly beautiful is the answer of the Shuna mite to the Prophet of the Lord. No courtly honor Would induce her to leave her own kindred. Many examples have we in the sacred Scriptures, expressive of the strong attachment of the Jews to kindred and country. A striking instance is recorded in 1 Kings, 11th chapter, where Hadad going to Egypt when Joung, and there received into great favor with the king, hearing of the death of David and Joab, entreated Pharaoh to let him return to his own country; and when theking re monstrated with him, asking what he lacked to make him happy, he exclaimed, “ Nothing! How beit, let me go in any wise.” Nehemiah is ano ther example. When he hears of the desolation of Jerusalem, no earthly honor or gain would keep him from casting his lot with his suffering "conn try men. And who has not read with feelings of emotion. the plaintive language of Jeremiah, “ Weep not for the dead, neither bemoan them, but weep sore for 1 those who leave country and kindred, for they shall return no more.” This ’ Tegltoyf^g-implantedin.thehogom-hf-iman-JiWihisi Creator, for thtTwiSest «tud Iresirpnrposes. The ties of endearment to early associations and friends are many. The trees under whose shade we have sat, the valleys and winding streams where we have sauntered in early years, the recollection of companions now no more, or far separated, all form mysterious links, binding us to. the spot where our first footsteps tottered. The poor .grovelling worldling, whose heart and soul can rise no higher than the ground he treads on, cannot understand these finer feelings of our constitution; but it is men imbued, with such feel-l ings as these, whose names are emblazoned on tfie" ..bßnals of fame, as benefactors of their race or de •Jjfjders of their country. But it is in reference attachment, and one that shall exist when the scenes of earth shall have passed away, we are to apply the words, viz.: the connection between pastor and people. ....... How delightful it is for a minister to say, in the spiritual sense of these words, “I dwell amongst mine own people.” Not merely his, be cause he; is;placed over, them, by the good order of the house of God, but because, as a faithful servant of Jesus Christ, he has been the means of winning them.pver to be the. Lord’s. Now every minister ought- to 'seek most earnestly to: have such unpeople; and when no.sueh object is before his mind, he has. not clear and scriptural views of the office he holds.. Apart from turning sinners from their-.evil 7 way^.ji6 r Jesus, their only Saviour, there is ndriheanirig in the ministry of reconcilia tion.' _ **' "1 " - I knots’ there are many who look on the Church as a mere moralizing'society, and the ministry as a sort of police force, whose, influence is to keep men from the grosser violations of law and de cency, and as such they .are willing to support them; but this is far different from the end", for which our glorious Redeemer organized the Church, and, appointed His ministry. The Church is the pillar and ground of truth; the true Mount Gilead, where the healing balm,: for the wounds sin has inflicted upon the sottl can be obtained; the fountain; whence are to issue the streams that shall gladden and change the aspect of this sin-blighted world. ' Many reasons might be assigned; why a minister should seek to be able to say, “I dwell amongst mine own people." Ist. It is the great end; for which he has re ceived the office. This means has been eliosen frittered membera of his flock. To bring "men to the knowledge of Him, whom-to know islife eternal,-and to a saving acquaintance with the provisions of the ever lasting covenant. The world might have been changed by the miraculous agency of God’s Spirit, without,the instrumentality of man,,.buk it has Been ordered otherwise. The Head of.the Church has signally owned this means of turning sinners ‘ unto God. When the Holy Spirit was' to apply the efficacy of Christ’s death for the ; salvation of thousands, ‘ Peter’s sermon- was selected, as the inCans of convincing them of their need of’ah tor terest in that death. And why should not,the servant of Christ how look for success to follow bis faithful labors among perishing men?., .: If he do not expect success now, when may he expect it? The means whereby sinners are io be turned to God are already made known! Every appliance to man’s salvation is revealed! That powerful lever, that can alone raise men from the fearful pit and miry clay, is let down from heaven. Every lamp necessary to guide the wandering sinner to a haven of safety, is bring out in the moral heavens: ,not one more will be added. Yes, the herald of salvation is to exercise faith in the promise of Christ, in reference, to his own-means, and be anxiously looking for the message of salva tion to perishing souls to take effect, If ministers were properly impressed with this idea,’what earnestness would characterize their labors. How utterly indifferent they would be to the judgment of men. They would not enter the sanctuary to pander to the vitiated tastes of those who might'he hearing ; delivering an essay.as cold in its temperature as if steeped in the snows of ihe Ural Mountains, and as little calculated to show toed their own sinful hearts, or the attrac tions of the cross, as a chapter out of Seneca. lt will Cause ministers, like Paul, to magnify their office. What solemnity is thrown around the office of the ministry when viewed in its proper relation. The highest angel in heaven would feel honored in being commissioned to herald the glad tidings of the Gospel. This high honor is' reserved for man. It was a remark of that excellent' divine, John Brown,, of Hadding ton “ That he would be willing to beg his bread six days of the week, for the privilege of preaching the Gospel to perishing sinners on Sabbath.” “They that turn many to righteousness shall shine like the stars forever and ever.” ' 3d. A minister, for hia ow»a Bhould seek to say, “I dwell among mini own people.” That pastor is not to bo envied, whatever be his earthly conveniences, who never had a single soul tell him. the joyful news, “ fqwn "you, under God, as_ the .means .of my . conversion.” One of two things is certainly the case: he must-be among a very hardened and earelesstoeppiie, or he must be an unfaithful and prayerleiPaian. A minister will find, the discharge of duty a very burdensome and irksome thing, unless the rjo-ht object be before him. But it is humbling to have it to say, that a great many men do not think the appropriate duties of a minister sufficient to build up their reputation; and hence they have recourse to manceuvering and policy, and many other things quite foreign to their office." But it will be found that fame, gotten from any other source than from usefulness in the vineyard of Jesus Christ, is as short-lived as it is devoid of sterling worth. ; 4th. Nothing draws the bond of union, between a minister and his people, so close as the fact, that he is the means, under God, of increasing their faith, and the instrument by which comfort is im parted to them in all their sorrows and trials.' There is no danger, where such a union exists, that the people will neglect to. minister to the temporal necessities of such a pastor, if the means be at all within their reach, or that the pastor, for every trifling matter, or to obtain what he may think a more eligible post, where his imagined or real talents may have wider scope, will leave the fioek which the Head of the Church has made him the honored instrument of bringing into the fold of safety. Oh! that a spirit of entire devotedness would be poured out upon the ambassadors of Christ, so that each one might be able to say, with an emi nent saint now in glory, “I am no longer inifle. own; this tongue, these hands, my bodily strength, any talents,my property, are entirely the Lord’s.” A Pastor. PHILADELPHIA, THURS||Y, JANUARY 5; 1860. Then would each he enabled ||&y, I will not only spend the few years qf' minflearthly pilgrimage amongst mine own people, when my work is ended here, and the vale of fltetfth passed through, it #5ll be no small ingredient in.my cup of hea venly bliss, to sing the p raisesjof th e Lam b, in the midst of the Throne, with thy,people who have been led first to trust in His finished work, through iny instrumentality. / 'TV '• * GL NEW YEAR’S I aUffKUTG. Br REV. THOMAS GUTHRIE. The Dnke of Wellington luring the Peninsu lar War heard that a larg ■! magazine of wine lay on his line of neared more for ! his men from barrels of wife than batteries of cannon, and instantly des atched a body of troops to.knock every wine iprrel in the head. Christmas and New Tea we fear as much. Like him we cannot rernovt ihe temptation shut the drain shop, arid brj »k the whisky bot tle —but we are sure that/* aless you Will be persuaded to avoid it, the attOToaching seasons ,wiU4)|'o.T~ t~ ttir jfifr]idfibVi’d'frnfl' ffrr jir 1 'trie of many, .a_t of the year does our town present sightooMiffiessiiig and so disgusting. Well may Opgtiaris pray, and parents weep, and our church® be hung in black. There are more young men fed young women ruined; more bad habits contacted, and more souls lost then, than in any other season of the year. V#' ' : We never see a man or .(dke^jmme! j a woman, with their whisky bottle arid wlb.their "Happy Nqw Year,” pressing drink Won others, with out thinking of the old murderer, Joab, when, .taking Amasa by the beard,'a® saying, “ Art dhodjin health, my brother ?”Vfee-stabbed him under the fifth rib. You intiod no iIL No more does the fool who; easts;fiirbbrands, saying, “It is in sport! it is in spjjrtl'” Yon know that in thousands of cases, tiese customs lead to ill, and issue in ruin. 1 ! What unlooked for misehfef conics of the drinking custom, we saw a melancholy instance of, but last Martinmas. the evening of th'e.day after the Term, a young Woman knocked at our door. Her good clothes all dragged in the mire, and the night’s debiuch were visible in i an' , hthSr'Tise' comely countenance. It was Bad to isco her; bnt sad der still the story. She ro§£. on the morning before, a decent-servant, witjt: wages and . cha racter, and the Respected child of respectable par’ents. She Was afraid to lace them; and now she stood ja 'lost, shameless creature, 'begging for. pity and’ shelter. She had left her , plape, and on Mr \yay to another, met with some companions] they persuaded her . to'taste a little spirits^and then a little more, and still a little more, till, first maddened and then stupefied’with dridk, she became in sensible, and,woke to find Mrself robbed and ruined. What a revolutiqn|g[eink caused in these'four and twenty hours !®t reminds us .of a stone which our hand has Jppsened oil a hill- top—ifirst it moires a little; pMm, caught by a tuft of grass or bush of heath g, it halts an in gtant, then moves again, and now begins.to roll -sJqwly, then quickly, then it ties, .it leaps. madlike on, till at length'it thunders down on some rock below, 1 and is shivered into a hundred fragments. . Twenty years ago, while a clergyman was sitting at his book, on a trgteiSful summer af ternoon, be heard a JooJ.a nf the case are our apoldgy?” " ' ,v '" r ‘ ■ We wishsjwt; indeed, a Happy New Year. We are not the enemies, button the contrary, the friends of every recreatitfff and amusement which can exhilaratethe spirits, and give a tone of cheerfulness to jbe mind and health to the gody. These wouldf iielp ouE cause instead of hindering it. In innocent snorts, expeditions to the country, visitJtb pic ture galleries, public let such amuse-; meats be sought and enjo4ect;-rbut against drinking places and feyery master warn his workmen; every misferesfefjr'nerVahtsV every man and mother their uhildtifi. •' it' this; season let all be specially on their gaard'j -thdir motto this: “Touch not, OSsie' not, Haridld> not.” Let the readers of this paper resolve to,- dowhat they can, by their example, influence, and advice, to stop this annnal debauchery,’ Offer no spirit—refuse offered. Be not partakers o,f other men’s sins:” “Let him that thinketh fie ; stan,deth,-take heed, lest he fall.” Q ... „\,- v — T~:r Ministers .in - California* -'‘There are afe pre senfe, me Pacific t y thonging to the Old School Presbyterians ia this Stateytifteen ministers, eleven having or churches under their charge. Of New School Presbyterians, there are twelve ; two of them are absent from the State, the rest at work preaching the gospel in it. Con gfegationalists number seventeen ministers; two temporarily absent. Of the:timber fourteen are either permanently or. temporarily engaged in preaching. In the Old School Church, we know of but one minister settled as pastor; New School twO j Congregational three. Out of forty-four mi nisters, there are twenty-five directly engaged : in preaching; of these, only six are settled pastors, .these thirty-five have under., their care, as nearly as we cau ascertain, fifty-two churches and con gregations. REMINISCENCES OF DR. BEECHER. In July, 1839- —if I have not forgotten- the year—l saw the Doctor for the first time at Ma rietta, Ohio. His coining had been looked for with great interest and, personally, he was not what I supposed him to be a solemn-looking man, with ‘eye rolling in fine frenzy'.and other marks of genius. He was seen walking, through that beautiful town with such an exhilaration as might be expected in a boy home from school without any attempt at dignity. And then; too, lie laughed outright in'the public street,' not boisterously, but quite merrily. -This was the famous Dr. Beecher, quite a different-; person, from the one imagination conceived him to be.. I was doomed to a greater disappointnient that evening,, when he preached a very dull sermon to a large audience, at least it seemed dull to me. He referred constantly to bis notes, put on and. off ; life spectacles ludicrously often, and was not in a single particular the great to sermons; Thfe the mosii of whom bad never seen, him, was evidently one of disappointment. Among the young men of .the College, who had elected the Doctor as their ora tor,, there was great disappointment, and if the. election for orator had been held that evening after the sermon, I am afraid Dr. Beecher would not have received a large vote. On Wednesday the Commencement exorcises were attended. At the conclusion of that- service, Dr. .Beecher was to deliver his oration. During the perfor mances of the graduating class, the Doctor was busy with his paper scraps, seemingly strung on a pin. These scraps looked as if some of them had been torn froih letters- Some were largo, some small, some white, and some evidently dis solved. The movements, of: the orator wore a source of great amusemen t to those who could see them. At last he was introduced, and announced Eloquence ”as his theme. Forthwith, he dashed into its exordium, with no reference to his notes, and instantly everybody began to have those sen sations which proved the presence of an eloquent man to exemplify his theme in himself. The ora tion was not an hour in length, but it proved to be one of the Doctor’s happiest efforts, combining the finest specimens of life wit, humor, imagina tion, enthusiasm, fervor, argument and power. One by one, the impaled pieces of paper were taken from the pin, not to be used, but for refer ences. Off and on went the spectacles marvel lously often, sometimes wrong side up and some times right side down.: Now he would whirl the spectacles round in a manner putting them in jeopardy ; and now he would double up his hand kerchief into a sort of wad, and suddenly pull it out straight—a gesture l have noticed in his Brooklyn son. Now his right arm whuld describe a curve like a blacksmith; and nowfm his excite ment, he would turn completely round in his pul pit. Never was an audience in more hearty sym pathy with an orator. One passage convulsed life hearers. ■ ..- A : He was declaiming in magnificent style against the habit of reducing all speakers to a certain set of rules, regardless of their natural tastes or apti tudes. Heisuddenly interrupted the strain of fine eloquence to speak of his own experience at Yale College, and the : criticisms made on his declama tion by the “Beecher, you step too quick when you m.ohpt tpe stage, —Yo.u should feat, and’ advance to tile stage with JWiuifflt4”cVjS«'d.^li»p v the speech' wfiEdelivered, perhaps he was pruned by the professional critic, who would say, “Beecher, your gesticulation is very ungraceful ! You ham mer away as if you were a blacksmith! You must cultivate more grace of attitude and gestiqu lation-!- And such explosions of voice, now loud, now soft! what kind of a way is that to speak! and what kind of a motion was it for you to whirl completely round in your violence?” This is a mere hint at the orator’s description of the honest attempts made by his teacher to “link him into some sort of a shape. ” The whole scene- was acted out with the utmost fidelityand humor; and, as he proceeded, the old Congregational Church witnessed an absence of staid decorum, and,heard cachinnations very unusual there. The whlje per formance was one delightful example of true elo quence, which entirely redeemed 1 the Doctor’s character as an orator, in the esteem of those who were disappointed in his preaching. , - The oration which Dr. Beecher delivered - on tlie occasion of the Commencement at Western Reserve College, was a mighty performance.— -HP did nqt reach Hudson until after the advertised time of his address, on account of some detention of the stage-coach.,, A large ajidience was,kept in suspense foi;-aome time, and when at last a rather Srhall -man' was seen bustling along the aisle, it was as much as a bargain to make people believe thatthat was the great Dr. Beecher.' How ever, lie pleaded, life cause .to the general satisfac tion. before he was through. His speech was, as, : at' Marietta, composed pf pieces torn from letters, | and after being dotted’-with certain hieroglyphics impaled on a pin. This was the unpromising original condition, out of which came “The Plea for the West, of so animated character, that a man cannot now read it without a quickened pulse. GOD SLOW TO ANGER, “He executeth not judgment speedily against the, workers of'iniquity.” He does punish; he shall punish; with reverence be it spoken, he must punish. Yet no hand of clock goes so slow as God’s hand of vengeance; Of that, the world, this city, and this'church, are witnesses; each and’ all, speaker and hearer, are living witnesses. It is too common to overlook; this fact; and, over looking the kindness, long-suffering, and warnings which precede*the-punishment, we are too apt to give : exclusive attention. We see his kindness impressed on all his works. Even the lion growls before he leaps, and before the snake strikes she. springs her rattle. Look, for example, on the catastrophe of the lie luge. We may have our attention so engrossed by the dread and awful character of this judgment, ah to overlook all that preceded it, and see nothing but these devouring, waters. The waters rise till rivers swell into, lakes, and lakes intoseas, and along fertile plains the sea slietehes out her'arms td Seize their flying popu lation. Still the waters rise; and now, mingled with beasts that terror has tamed, men climb to the ,mountain tops,,the flood roaring at their heels, ,;Still the waters rise; and now each summit stands .above'.them Hko-'a separate and'sea-girt isle. Still rise; and, crowding closer on the nar row spaces, of their lessening tops, men and beasts fight for standing-room.. Still the thunders: roar and. the waters rise,. fi]l the last survivor of the. Erieking crowd is washed off, and the head of the -highest Alp goes down beneath' the wave. And now rale, waters rise no more; God’s servant lias done,jbis work; he rests from his labors; and, ill lantlcfrojyned— al 1 life destroyed—an awful silence, reigning, and a shoreless ocean, rolling, Death 'for once lias nothing to do, but ride in triumph on the top of some' giant billow, which, meeting no‘ coast,.no continent, no Alp, no Andes, to break upon, sweeps roundand round the world. We stand aghast at this scene; and, as the corpses of, gentle children apd sweet infants are floating by, we exclaim, " Has God forgotten to be gracious—is his mercy'bleau gone for ever?” No; assuredly not. Where; then, is his mercy? Look here; look at this ark which, steered .by an invisi ble hand, comes dimly through the gloom. That lonely ship on a shoreless sea carries "mercy on board; apd within walls that are pitched without" and within, she holds the costliest freight that ever sailed the sea. The germs of the church are there—eth patriarchs of the old world, and the fathers of the new. Suddenly, amid the awful gloom, as # driftsjover that dead and silent sea; a grating noise is heard; she has grounded on the top of Ararat. The'door is opened; and beneath the sign of the olive?branch, they come forth from their baptismal like life from the dead, — like souls passing front?nature into a state of grace; —like the saints when they shall rise at the sum mons'of the trumpet to behold a new heaven and a new earth, and to see the sign, which these “gray fathers’’hailed, encircling the head that was crowned with thorns. Nor is this all. Our Heavenly Father’s cha racter is dear to us; and I must remind you that ere mercy flew, like the dove, to that asylum, she had swept the world with her wings. Were there but eight, only eight saved? There were thou sands, millions Nor is it justice to God to forget how long a period of patience, and preach ing? and warning, and compassion, preceded that dreadful deluge. ■ L&ng before the lightning flashed froth ?angry heavens®? long before thdldera rolled along sffiea;-.- long ’'befhrtf 'the'-'eloud|! rained down death; long before thfe floor and solid pavement of this earth,' under the prodigious agencies at work, broke np, like the deck of a leaking ship, and the waters rushed from below to meet the waters from above, and sink a guilty world;, long before the time when the ark floated away .by tower and town,! and those crowded bill tops, where'frantic groups had clustered, and amid prayers and curses, and shrieks and shouts, hung out .their signals of distress—very long before this, God had been calling an impenitent world to re pentance. Had they no warning in Noah's preach ing? - Was there nothing to alarm them in the very sight of the ark as story rose upon story; and nothing in the sound of those ceaseless hammers to waken all but the dead ? It was not till Mercy’s arin grew weary ringing the warning bell, that, to use the words of my text, God “ poured out his fury ”on them. I appeal'to the story awful judgment. True, for forty days it railred inces santly, and for one hundred and fifty days more “the waters prevailed on the earth;” but while the period of God’s justice is reckoned by days, the period of his long-suffering was drawn out into years; and there was a truce of one hundred and twenty years between the first stroke of the bell and the first crash of the thunder. Noah grew gray preaching repentance. The ark stood useless fork-years, a huge laughing-stock for the scoffer’s wit; it stood till it was covered with the marks.of age, and its builders with the contempt of the world; and many a sneer had these men to bear, as, pointing to the serene heavens above and an empty ark below, the question was put, ‘‘Where is the promise of his coming?” Most patient God! Then, as now, thou wert slow to piidish“- “ waiting to be gracious,” 1 ? ~ SPEECHLESS MEMBERS . Christians who are not much gifted, as compared with..some of their brethren, are apt to-feel as if it was of no consequence if they should be wanting in their very subordinate part of the common charge. They seem to themselves very insignifi cant iu the church. They seldom ' take part in the social meetings and then quite briefly. They cannot “pray like a minister,” as certain of the brethren are reputed able to do, nor make exhorta tions that are “’most as good as preaching,” and so, though they love to. be at the place of prayer, andV.jotfi 4heir'“oieis tlie 1 songs of 'Zion, they think- that' -nothing important can depend upon their very slender-cti'iitribution to. the church's work. Perhaps thejr.fujt insig nificance is thus made a temptation to -negligence. But our Saviour has no superfluous .members in his Body. The Spirit confers' no superfluous gifts. Fidelity of the humblest sort is valued by the Master, and is .important to his cause. A hearty, prayerful interest in the-welfare of the church and the? salvation of souls, wherever it exists, will be effective. If one does not feel it bis duty to speak—though it may- be, oftener than lie recognizes it—or to pray audibly, his Christian -feelings,will be mingled in the fellowship of devo tion with those of other Christians. They will feel that they have more' enjoyment and profit of the meeting, for the presence of that speechless one. - And when in the order of Providence the place of such a one, who has faithfully, and in quietness served God and the church, becomes..vacant, how great the vacancy sometimes appears! •" The pastor remembers how constantly he was in' his place, and how. attentively he heard, but never found fault.,,,-The deacons remember >how