The American Presbyterian. (Philadelphia) 1856-1869, January 05, 1860, Image 1

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    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<m3*lsgraj ej, and saw j
th&" glossy'
leaves and beaiitiiiil flowerlbfm China rose
bush; which served as hia windw-screeu. The
servant came to say that one casing himself an
old college acquaintance waejlmr the kitchen;
and there—for he declined to Inter the room—
in old rusty black, out at the Jmees and elbows;
with his head banging dowii;,|tood a beggar ■
in whose haggardface he traced the features of
one whom he had known as almost accomplished
student,, the pride of his piareftf'&nd family, and
once, the envy of many. ; lie graded in his own
byes, he would not lift up h: 5 head, nor speak,
hor stay, but, ektcHing at tie offered' charity,
he hurried off—a man who might have adorned
a pulpit, now a vagabond oWjfhe earth, cast off
by all his friends to die by and be
laid, with no regrets, in a drfnkard’s grave.
Bat three weeks ago, on gling up the High
Street, a sudden start and the rapid turning
away of a face, called my attention to one who
had reached the lowest infamy: In her swollen
and bloated features .1 recognised one whom I
had known in' better days, |&d had last seen
when, five years ago, I prayed beside her mo
ther’s dying bed, in the garm stbry of a high
tenement in the Cowgate.
she had been the widow’s comfort,
the little ewe-lamb of her bosom, and I have
heard her mother, who' God for the fair
opening of that flower, tears of joy
in her eyes, bow Mary saug-her hymns, and with
what power she prayed to God in their lonely
home; , Happily now for hetifhe mother lies at
rest in the Greyfriar’s Churchyard; but her
Mary r who, from a.Sab'bath |choo'l scholar had
grown up into a Sabbath nfalks
the High Street, another victim added to the
thousands whose first fall dates from these
festive seasons—who begin with a glass and end
with a bottle, V
Our large towns are becoming a disgrace to
Scotland; and oar country,jMth its old cha
racter for piety and sobriety,in thread
bare rags upon its back, is beeo&ing a disgrace
to the Empire. Wo havejsrnall hopes from
Justices of Peace or MembnW of Parliament.
If this evil is to be stopped, these guters dammed
np and driven back, it must be through the
blessing of God by you, ike people them
selves ; therefore, :wp presume to
makethis apfeeal: tlm,neee&ith>.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<ready he was
to. give every good work, to the extent of his means,
his ‘'material aid.” If he did not say as many
good things as some, it is also recollected that he
was not given to evil-speaking. He never seemed
very important to a social meeting, but—now he
is no longer there—it is discovered that there was
a place which he exactly filled, and which, is now
evidently unoccupied.
No Christian ought to content himself with any
degree of piety or of usefulness lower than the
highest he is able to attain. But there are diver
sities of gifts, and the 'humblest believer should
'feel that he does not serve a hard Master. Every
faithful service is recognized. A cup of cold water,
in the name of a disciple, shall not go unrewarded.
And on the other band, fidelity is as necessary,
as imperative, in the least as in the great duties.
A church whose members lived consistently in the
endeavor to do iheir udtole duty to the cause of
Christ, disheartened at nothing because too great
for them, and neglecting nothing because too small,
would not very long be a weak church, for the
strength of the Lord would be theirs.
WOEK FOE LAYMEN;
The, time-was, of our churches, when
the minister was expected to dp .everything, that
was needed for supplying the spiritual wants and
advancing the spiritual interests of the congrega
tion; and when it was considered a special "privi
lege, if.he could find even one or two of his session
who were willing to,.lead in prayer at the weekly
meeting, or to visit the sick for the purpose of
ministering to their spiritual wants.
We sincerely hope that these days are past, for
ever past, lor our church; and that the lay portion
of the church will now receive such a baptism of
devotion and zeal in the cause of Christ, that they
will henceforth be not only Aarons and Hurs to
sustain the hands and cheer the hearts of the mi
nistry, but like Joshua and'Caleb, having them
selves been permitted to have some glimpses of
the true Canaan, and having tasted of its delicious
fruits,_ they yeill be eloquent and earnest in com
mending it to others, and in urging them to press
forward in order to gain the heavenly land.
.There is much work for the laity to perform
without the least encroaching upon any of the pe
culiar functions of the clergy. In conducting the
weekly or other prayer-uieetings, attending to
Bible classes and Sabbath schools, visiting the
sick, conversing with the inquiring and even with
the careless, on the great subject of the soul’s sal
vation, —here is a wide and important field of labor,
in whiph the whole church ,iu all her individual
members may. find ample employment. The field
is now white to the harvest., And he, whatever
his position in the church, who labors faithfully
m sowing and reaping now, may in due time ex
pect to fill h:s a rms wi th the golden sheaves. And
although his present circumstances in the world
and his place in the church may be such as to
givedum bufc little notoriety) yet he may .thus gain
tor himself a place among those who, having
turned, many unto righteousness, will' shine as the
stars forever and ever.
VOL. IV.-NO, 19.—Whole No. 184.
Examiner.
Southern Presbyterian.
THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN.
Consider how, with all their glare and. show,
things seen are paltry, passing, the least of things;
and that .grandeur and endurance belong to the
unseen. The soul is unseen; precious jewel of
immortality, it lies concealed within its fragile
fleshy.casket. Hell and heaven are unseen; the
first sinks beneath our sight; .the second rises high
abovte'it. The eternal world is unseen; a veil im
penetrable hangs before its mysteries, biding them
from the keenest eye. Death is unseen; he strikes
his blow in the dark. The devil is unseen—steal
ing on us often unsuspected, and always invisible.
And as is our deadliest foe, so is our best and
trustiest, our heavenly friend. Jesus is an in
visible Saviour; Jehovah is an invisible God.
“No man hath seen God at any time;” yet
why, should that be turned into a temptation to
sin ? I think it should rather minister to constant
watchfulness and holy -care. How solemn the
thought, that an invisible being is ever at our side,
watching us, recording with rapid pen each deed
and word, every desire that rises, though it be to
burst like an. air-bell.every thought that passes,
on-aiifeagle’s wing. We cannot shake off
the presence of God; and when doors are shut,
and curtains drawn, and all is still, and darkest
night fills our chamber, and we are left alone to
the companionship of our thoughts, it might keep
them pure and holy to say, as if we saw two shining
eyes looking on us out of the darkness, “Thou
God l , seest me.” The world called him mad who
imagined that he saw God’s eye looking on him
out of every star in the sky, and every flower of
the earth, and every leaf of the forest, from the
ground he trod upon, from the walls of his lonely
chamber, and out of the gloomy depths of night.
Mad! it was a blessed and holy fancy. May God
help you to feel yourself at all times more in his
presence, than you are at any time in that of your
fellow-men I
WHINING.
There is a class of persons in this world, by ho
means small, whose prominent peculiarity is
whining. They whine because they are poor, or
if rich, because they have no health to enjoy their
riches; they whine because it is too shiny; they
whine because it is too rainy; they whine because
they have “no luck,” and others' prosperity ex
ceeds theirs; they whine because some friends
have died and they are still living; they whine
because they have aches and pains, and have aches
and pains because they whine, and they whine no
one can tell why; Now I would like to say a word
to these whining persons.
First. Stop whining! It is of no use—this
everlasting complaining, fretting, scolding, fault
finding, and whining. Why, you are the most
deluded set of creatures that ever lived. Did you
not know that it is a well-settled principle of physi
ology and common sense, that these habits are
more exhaustive of nervous vitality than almost
any other violation of physiological law ? And
do you uot know that life is pretty much as you
take it and make it? You ean make it bright,
sunshiny, or you can make it dark, shadowy.
This life is meant only to be disciplinary —to fit
us for a higher and purer state of being. Then
stop whining, and fretting, and “go on your way
rejoicing.”
Second. Sing the song of life cheerily. Hark!
Do you hear yonder bird singing joyously its
merry carols, as it hops from bough to bough in
its native forest-home? Imitate it. Take up
your song of life, using it joyously and bravely.
Sinsj£«n, though you feel it-not. - ‘ —•* -
You are miserable, nervous, dyspeptic, in wrong
relations to yourselves and all God’s universe, and
that’s all that ails you. Then stop short, take up
the song of life, and leave off forever that whine
of death!
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:
but a broken spirit drietli up the bones.” Live
simply, cheerfully, trustingly; and by-and by
your troubles “will take themselves wings and fly
away.” You will gradually grow more and more
into harmony with the natural order of things,
and the bright light of heaven will shine pleasantly
down into your souls and baptize them into new
life.
BED-RIDDEN FOR TWENTY-SIX YEARS;
Let those who complain about the minor ills
they suffer, read-the- following, which we copy from
the Orleans American:—-
On the 7th I'.called to see and speak with Henry
Pa'ssen, who isl and has been afflicted with rheu
matism as probably no other person has been since
the world began. He has been confined to his
bed sines the spring of 1834, and has not helped
himself from,it since the fall of the same year,*,
now, more than a' quarter of a century. Most of '
this time : he has-been as .helpless as an infant, not
being able to tarn himself in bed or help himself
to a morsel of food. His knees have been out of
joint for many years, the cords and muscles having
'contracted so as to draw the lower bones of the
leg back under the femur or upper bone, from one
to three inches. *His feet have been drawn so
to bring his toes against the shin bone or tibia,
with such force as to cause painful aud offensive
sores. His hands are drawn out of their natural
shape, and rendered,; .with the entire arm, useless
and almost motionless. The nerves of his eyes
have been so affected as to destroy his sight He
has been totally blind for nearly ten years.
His hearing and speech are yet preserved; and
his appetite has been quite good most of the time.
His memory is surprisingly good, and his power
to recognize those whose voice he has heard is
wonderful. His left leg was amputated about a
year and a half ago, since whieh time I have not
seen him until the 7th insh; yet he recognized
me at once upon hearing me speak. His suffer
ings are intense, especially when he is moved.
At the present time hjS remaining footers, .flinch
swollen, and mortification has already commenced,
and‘amputation is contemplated."
Though he is blind; yet by an. eye of faith he
looks to that State where no one shall say, I am
sick. Though he has no power of locomotion, he
expects to “ walk with his Saviour in white,” being
made worthy by His merits. Any person may
profit by visiting Mr. Passen, and especially may
those who think their lot is hard, and that “no
man’s sorrow is like their sorrow,” learn to mo
derate their repinings, cease their complainings,
and no more fret against Him who “ doeth all
things well.”
AN IMPOSSIBILITY.
They mistake our design who faney that the
hermit’s cell and the monk’s cloister are places in
which society is shunned. Man finds not in him
self the end of bis own existence. Heading, medita
tion, and prayer tend, doubtless, tounfold the indivi
dual faculties; and if each were an isolated being,
standing alone in his relation to the Supreme, such
self-development would be life’s ultimate object.
But that is not so. Humanity is one vast whole,
struggling to elevate itself to perfection; and the
incessant movement of the ocean is not more es
sential to the purity of its waters, than is social
activity to 'human advancement. Put an end to
the attrition of mind on mind, let there bo no con
flict of thought, no wrestling for mastery, no mu
tuality of help and dependence, no attraction and
repulsion, love or hatred, and the stagnant world
would become an abyss of - pollution. ; QJben
separation from the world is impossible?” ob
served Oeolfrid, turning an inquiring gaze into
the manly open countenance of the Abbot. “ Im
possible! ” was the decided reply. “We cau no
more sever ourselves from the brotherhood of hu
manity, than divide a wave from the ocean. As
'veil try to wrest from its silvery source the, moon
beam now glancing on those troubled waters.”
life Illustrated. "
The Northumbrian Abbots.