GENESEE EVANGELIST.—WhoIe No. 758- Mettl. THE LAND OF PROMISE. Thine eyes shall behold the land that is very far off —lsa . xxxiii. 17. There Is a bright country, a very far latat The home of delight, by the righteous possessed, Where the amaranth blooms ) , and whose streams ever fann'd By the zephyrs of love, ere etethally bleat. A. land of pure fountains,wbose glittering streams, fl To the River of Life,oviThreveialeng, Till it swells to an ocean of gladness, that gleams On the City of Gon, and the worshipping throng. ft land where the Christian rests Wel, at last, From the storm of life's waste howling wilderness &ear: Where the militant Church her long conflict has passed, And God from all eyes wipes away every tear: The King in his beauty and glory shall lend His saints - to the River that pefteefulld flowar • There, by its green banks, the Good Shepherd will feed. His flock with his love, in the , shades of repose. A pity far off thy blest eyes may behold, And Zion's great king, where he reigns evermore: Its gates of twelve pearls untii i ,thee may unfold; Thy feet yet may tread Immortality's shore. That city's foundations of Jasper are laid, And sapphire: its Builder and Maker the Lord: Of stones of fair colors thy pillars are made; Thou glorious Rest of the Infinite Wordl Fair fabric celestial! how beauteous thy toward! How lofty, amid the empyrean skies! 0 residence blest of ethereal Powers, Where anthems of joy shall eternally rise! Thou cityeternall with streets of pure gold, And rainbow of emerald circling the throne; If, now to thy soul they have pleasures untold, Bow rapturous, when their full glories are known! Then onward, right onwardl haste thitherward, haste 0 traveller wayworn, forget all thy woes; Say, what are life's sorrows, if there thou but taste, Salvation and joy, and eternal repope? For the American Presbyterian. AUNT JENNY. (CONTINUED.) I NW that there was a conflict going on in her heart, and felt that the Saviour was waiting to be gracious, and that this poor outcast must be led to the fold of Christ. With trem -bling solicitude I inquired on that spot, "Lord, *hut wilt thou have me to do ?" She dropped her work, and became more and more distressed tor two , or three days, till at length I could re quire but little of her. "I feel such a, great sinner," and "What shall I do to be saved-?" was all she could say. My husband, and myself endeavored to direct her to the Lamb of God, but she had such a view of her heart, that she felt there was no mercy for her.' She had never learned the way bf the Spirit in the conviction and conversion of sinners, and hers was, to her, a solitary is/stows, She retired at night with great heaviness.of heart, and •in the morning did not come down stairs'as usual., After breakfast was prePaied, and the , bell Shad rung for family worship, she opened, the door, looking like the picture of de spair. Almost the first thing she said was: "Indeed, did , ndt sleep any last night. I.am afraid lam lost 1" I said to her: "Jenny, Je sus Christ came to seek and to save such as are lost." Come in• the other room, and Mr. P. will pray for you, and you must try to give yourself entirely up to God." She came in greatly agi tated. She bowed down before God. Christ Was held up before her as the only hope of the sinking sinner, and she doubtless laid bold of him with her feeble faith. She rose from her knees, and seemed more composed. She went about her work as well as she could, after such a night of mental suffering. In the course of the day I said to her : "Jenny, do you feel relieved of that distress you have felt ?" She replied: "Indeed; I don't know, ma'am. I feel a great sinner, but I mean to stick fast to the Saviour as long as I can." The clouds began to scatter. There was a great change in Jenny, and no one who was ac quainted with her could doubt that it was a , change of heart. She was conscientious and watchful over all she said or did. From her old propensity to prevaricate she met with the strongest temptations, and it was moving to observe the struggle this simple hearted disciple had with her heart, in endea voring to overcome this evil; but she watched and prayed, and gained the mastery, until her word could be fully relied upon. She would often say when tempted : "I mean to stick tight to the Saviour." " She felt a great affection for Christians," j . a would sometimes say, and often asked them please pray for her; and as our minister was 'out leaving us for another charge, she felt at she must go and see him, and ask him to ,ray for her. It was a cold winter's evening, when the snow was deep, and the walk was glazed with ice, that Jenny was missing. After an hour or two she came in with' a smiling face. When I in quired where she had been this cold night, she aid: "I have been to Mr. Adams', to ask him o pray for me:" "How is it possible,"'said "that you could go, on the icy walk', such a night as ,thiS, to Mr. Adams'?" She replied: "1 'I , C alked on my hands and knees, going and oomingotad I got my pay for going. 'Mr. Adams prayed with me, and Mrs. Adams talked so kindly!" In the year following, 1831, we also were vi sited with a` refreghing from on high, and many came forward *to take 'the vows of God upon them. Jenny inquired if she could take the sa ' crament. The cake ` was referred to the session of the church, Who hesitated not to receive her, and the next Sabbath she and two others re. ceived the ordinance of baptism, and took a seat at the Lord's Table. It seemed to afford her much comfort to be numbered with the peo ple of God. A gentleman in whose family she afterwards lived, furnished the following testimony in re gard to her Christian character: "According to her opportunities and light, Jenny might be considered a bright Christian. She was devoted and prayerful, and was de ' ighted to have my children read the Bible to er, which they often did: I have often heard Aber, when engaged in prayer, when she sup posed we had retired for the night,ond , I was struck with the extent of her Christian' experi ence, as developed in her devotions. :I believe her to have been a consistent, pious, and de voted Christian, exhibiting an example worthy to be followed by those of a higher grade in so ciety, andof higher attainments. She died as she lived, and I believe she Is now reaping the reward in thathappy home where no social dis tinctions, or jarring elements, disturb the enjoy ments of the blessed,, but where all can join in one harmonious song to.,the Lamb that was slain. She is now away from: the eates and troubles of this world in an , eternalliome, where the wicked cease from troubling .and'where the weary are at rest. Though born and reared in ignorance, - and •of. a degraded grace, she now wears' a crown.” Jenny's case affords encouragement for the instruction of our domestics. No matter how debaSed they tire, their hearts may: bareaehed by the forte of gospel instruction. The Holy Spirit is ever ready to bless-the feeblest efforts to restore_lost souls to the favor .of. God. And how much might be done in this way that is left undone.?.One excellence of the Christian religion is, that it can find its way to the heart of the outcast. Will a trophy of divine grace, redeemed from such degradation, be less accept able to the Saviour on that . aecount soil taken•from the lowest depths of sin may become a' brilliant gem in the Saviour's crown. • LETTER ,FROM MRS. BENTON: I"4llamditn; Sep. 27th, 1860. DEAN illtOTTrlia AND SISTER IN ORRIST:-- IVE thank your more than we can express, for your last,. ewieet....letter and the r exeellent papers. We shall hail their visits, to our humble ,home with gratitude and joy.. We thank you for all your kind thoughts of us and prayers for us .during the terrible, weeks we have passed through this summer. We can, and do deeply'sympathize with you in the severe stroke with which God has visited you. We well know how:hard it was to lay your bright, beautiful little boy in the.deep, ditiiivitve. We, too, lave drank , that bitter cup. Our. darling Willie, our first-born, was given to us in Aleppo, and now sleeps beneath the green grass of his father's native State. He was three years old—a 'bud of peculiar promise—,and, Oh:! how dear to his parent's heart. Our onlylittle daughter, Annie, was the first.form deposited in the new Protesiant burying-ground at Bhamdun. She sickened and died one cold.Deoember night, the winds moaned her sad requiem, as they wildly howled up=the deep mountain gorge, and blew throngh a thousand cracks in our rude dwelling. No kind, skilful :phyaeiart r noldearer - or.7neighbnr;waffnear` Her iveeping mother arra.yed. the sweet babe for her laeteleep, and her father's:hands < made her little coffin. Your little . ones .and ours are not lost. We shall find them all again, sweet flowers of Pa ra.dise. trr The more one reflects' upon the,wonderful pre servation of Bhanidun, the more one is filled with astonisbment. All felt that-we were in:the greatest danger. Some of the Maronites were burning with zeal to go to the war, but our influence kept them back. Mr. Benton has great influence with the Drums; we have won their hearts to a re markable degree. No Druse would kill us if he knew us. Do'you know, that ever since the missionaries of the Board entered Lebanon, the- Druses have been our protectors? and never have we received the least insult from any Druse; while we , have been reviled, hated, stoned, and persecuted, times without, number by the so-called Christians. At the commencement of the war ) Ynsif Bey gave my husband the title of Sheikh Benton Abd el Melik, and we can say that he has always treated us most kindly, and we fe,el much attached to him. He has often declared that our,presence here saved the place; for, said he, "If you, Howaja Benton, had fled, every family would have followed you, and I should not have come here, but the Druse women would have come, plundered and burnt the village." The Sheikh whom Mr. M‘Leod remembers, is Abu Yusif Hamden, the Patriarch of the whole Druse nation. He has all the influence of a spiri tual head, lives in a little village about twenty minutes froin here, leads a most humble, life, and bad he the grace of Christ, would be an example of meekness. He has seat a petition lo the Queen of England in behalf of hie people, signed with his single name and :seal.-` It It is an important fact, that the Druses never proselyte, never persecute for religion. ,And when we consider that the Druses are the original pro 'Actors of the mountain, and that the Christians purchased their lands of them, and, when too poor to buy, occupied them as tenants, and that they have increased till they became ten to one of the Dkses, and that the .bishops' and priests en ,couraged them .to despise and hate the Druses, .and finally formed their.plans, to either kill them all off, or 'drivelhein from their mountain homes, and at last commenced their war of extermination, who can wonder at the 'desperation with which they fought, especially as the Turkish authorities every where joined the Druse side, and set, on the Wild, 'savage, heathen Druses to do to the pcior unfortunate Christians just what they intended to do with them? This rotten Turkish government ought to be held responsible for all this, and we hope and pray that the English and' French who have hitherto upheld the sinking ship, will now take the helm into their own hands. Their armies are now here. Yesterday three thousand French troops passed our house,and are encamped at Ain Sofa, about three miles from this. We would hope there will be no more patching up; for, if the European powers leave the. Turk to himself, a few years will witness bloodier deeds. Ten years ago we witnessed a terrible outbreak at 'Aleppo, and now all Lebanon and Damascus is deruged in blood and fire; and let not the friends d humanity think the dire punishment which is now being- laid upon Damascus will change the nature. of Islamism. The haughty Turks of that ancient city will nurse with a new zeal their hate to 'all who bear the mine of Christ, and onlywait another lull to wreak _anew their vengeance upon all the hated hosts of Jesus. Cottutsponfitnet. PRESERVATION OF BRAMDUN. 41.L.Apy , 4•1;JETT1A.:::,....: : .j,g.u4,,ANQ : v0.54 , ;7:z.- , :fs'o:oi'•:.:T.. About , twenty days ago, four bundred prisoners passed h.ere, With their hands in wooden stocks, on their way= to Constantinople as galley slaves. On their 'arrivalithe Sultan would not see _them or own them as' his 'subjects, and ordered every one to be shot. Excuse this *hasty line.' We hope something is ere this on its way fir us: We very much de sire to send relief to our friends iri &bleb. The poor Zahleans are 'Mostly back again to their de molished houses, living in tents of bushes and leaves. Mr. Betiton recently visited ZithlehOt is a heap of ruins. How , all welcomed him and begged us •to come analliie with them! We - trust the new Zahleh 'will be built on a' better fntindit tiod than the faith elsaints.and.relles: There is a great deal'of sickneis and death fol lowing the ',war. .We give:medioines to:hundreds every week. , Will some of the good people of your eitylelp us,a littlewith alienation:of medi cines? Your•affectionate sister, For,the American Presbyterian.„ . • , PPROVOCATIONS,WEIVEP BY THR bßuszs. 4 P4ITR;PREPARED Forqi, H. 33 1 M.'S; POMMISSION- ER LORD DUE/TRIM BY MR.. BENTON. Bilaind atet o b u e l il t 2rlr6rl MR. En - rron.:-=The following plea to adduce • the principal evidence to prove'the provocations received by the Druses from the Christians from the commencement of the late war upon Mount Lebanon, will be of interest'to all'who read it. It was addressed, ander the date of yesterday, at his special request, and the suggestion' of the Hon. James Williams, our Ambassador at Constantino ple, to-Lord Dufferin, H. B. M.'s CoMMissioner, Beirut. DEAn SIR :—The voice of God's Providence calls me to make and submit . to your lordship "a carefully digested summary of the evidence which can be adduced to prove the provocations received by the Druses from the ,Christians" in their late ferocious conflict upon Mount Lebanon. Obedient to this call, in demonstration of the evidence, it is my painful duty to adduce the testimony of, facts. It was the declared object of the Christians in this war entirely to exterminate the Druses, or forever to exclude them from their ancient, pos sessions in Mount Lebanon. 2.. The Christians refused to accept any terms of reconciliation, except that of the voluntary with drawal of the Druses from this mountain. 3. The. Christians from different points invaded the country of the Druses and commenced the war. 1.4 Therefore it was to the Druses an inexorable necessity to fight or forsake their country, forever. The Christians declared (see Missifnunw Iferglcl for August, 1860, page'23B) they make clean work of it, and not leave a Druse on Lebanon." Disregarding the laws of religion and of civil government, thus , the Christians took the sword into their, own hands, challenged and then obliged the Drums to take up arms against them, or to flee from their country. The Christians had long despised the fewness of the Drums, killed several of them, seized some of their sheikhs, com pelled them to retire from their possessions, and threatened also to exclude them from all their villages in thel3ukaa. They had also seized the public roads east and west, with a design to cut off all their supplies of grain and other provisions, and starve them out of the mountains; and exas perated thenias enemies to take the aggressive for self-preservation as a distinct people. And under the circumstances the local government appeared to favor the Druses wherever they went, and to in cite them to the most atrocious barbariiies. 4.. Europe will hardly expect that any extenu ating circumstances can be adduced in mitigation of the atrocities comn3itted. on the unfortunate Christians in the massacres at Deir el Kamr, Has beiya, etc. BUt Europe and America ought to know the very nature and peculiar facts of the case in. order to judge a, righteous judgment. At the massacre of Deir el Kamr, for example, the Druse Sheikhs.were not present. The mutual antipathy of the Druses and Christiansthere dated from former generations. And from that ill-fated town originated the first. known intention among the Christians to drive the Druses out of Lebanon. It was the ancient Jaw of retaliation in war to do unto their enemies as they had intended to have done unto them. Did not the Christians provoke and challenge the Druses to the war, and intend a similar outrage, even "to make clean work of it and not leave a Drum on Lebanon ?" Inexorable retaliation called for the sacrifice. The govern ment did not intervene as it ought to have done. Under the provocations of their enemies and from self-preservation, the Druses were incited .to that bloody massacre and to those other atrocities which it is so painful for all humanity to relate. The inhabitants of. Deir el Kanar were'formerly in a feudal subordination to the Druses. They had refused to surrender to their hereditary sheikhs. The whole nation was provoked, and it was the order of that exasperated mob, exulting in the re cent downfall of Zahleh, that these their enemies fallen into their hands who would not have them reign over them, should all be slain in their pre sence. It is, however, a matter of fact that, those who had surrendered themselves to their former sheikhs escaped. But, my lord, I can offer no apology for that wholesale massacre of ,rrien when , the law of God has declared, Thou shalt not kill. In my own convictions, the whole war was utterly wrong in each and every aggressive view and act from either side. The Christians, indeed, in violation of all Christian, principle, had provoked, 'challenged and necessitated the Drums to take np their arms in self-defence. And God gave, the Drnses a great victory. In the full tide of flat victory, they suddenly ceased of their own accord from pursuing their enemies to the Dog river and to' the' north. And I am fully persuaded that they Would, if they could, have ceased from • the first 'outbreak, not withstanding the greht provocations of the Chris tians resident in other 'districts at a distance,.if they had not invaded their country, united 'in :a common league, as it was generally understood, to drive them out of the mountain, or if there had been any proper governmental.authority to inter vene, =and satisfy the proper demands' of both par ties. Yours in Christian love, O.G. • BENTOLi WITithAM A. BENTON. KRAN I NESSN TRH ' TREATMENT OF huslsTEßs.. A DONATION VISIT THAT. COST *MP THAN' . IT CAME. TO Our ideal of the happiest life in the world is that of a country miniSkry. If a kind' Providence has cast his lot amonOin affectionate, peoPle; who appreciate his labors; . ‘islio encourage him by a faithful attendance ortllis ministry, by attentive listening, and oc'easiorially by a cheering word; and if, perchance, he is.'4oinetitoesa, little neglect, ful,. who . know how to 4e allowanee for "their ',' minister, even as they' :five to ask indulgence for t themselves, then in4et the lines haVe &lieu to him in pleasant places. -',, For such a .people it is, a delight to labor. The" paster loves to go about among them, to visit , ligm when:they are sick, to conifort theme in soriow, le relieve the doubting and the perplexed, and to guide the trembling filthier to the Lamb of eau sin thusfulfilling his office, he is a followervakthe Gcsal , Blie . plgil, , villo , takes the lambs ,in , 114, - ..fts and ,carrieabein in his bosom. ~ ~ i ..... f, J,: ~. ~. , : ~,-; . Very pleasant, too, ivnelita casefare the little courtesies and attentiov--which a kind people be stow upon thpasto4,;the ,endly, Visits to- his house, and the..eccasiegal i presents which' they bring. For these are not given as a charity; .they involve.no humiliatiorw the part of him who re ceives them, hut are okied as a • mark of,,,that ge iieriti respect and, affecteon which 'his people feel and , delight to express: \ • ' ^-• ' ' - Sometithes ' this . - unAegersal - attachment,`, rising higher and •higher, oterflowi in -a "Donation Visit.", Then-the 'petkde are seen gathering in knots at the corners Rift the streets; or in their houges, laying deep phis and conspiracies. ^ And .suddenly on a winter* night the whole parish turn:out, , and surroindlit e parsonage, and take it by storm.- :.How inert* the sleigh bells jingle over the'snow, and ho4appy young and old Seem -to be as they'gather. in the .-pastor's home, and iload:The table with.goode:thing6 i ''z Taken• by sur prise, the good man a i nittliis wife are overwhelined by such kindness. ‘ And .sometimes they _stand amid- the grdirof their: people, with eyes filled with tears, and quiveridgiipsrand 'hearts too full t07ti r ehie , ........ . 1:4 This is the "sunny : * e" of a country pastor's life. But alas I thbrelit thetimes a "shady side," si and one fiat is very "'s'hady indeed. It is not every villag*/ pastor .who falls ,among a kind and affectionate people: Nketimes the soul - of a godly man, and of 'his meek;rtieht3 all-enduring 7ife, are vexed' day by , day, b the .narrew, mean, par kimonious •sPirit.of a purp that' le now. not howto appreciate a minister ' s , labors. for them, and . that seem anxious-only to get out of -him as much as possible for as little return: The salary is paid in driblets,lor not pilith a nt all. Every' dollar is doled out in a way tolveund the minister's "self respect; everypetty gift. is offered as if to a street beggar .and the donation'xisits, so far from being grateful to his weary Spirit, are offered in a way to humiliate him.. SometitiO every present made is .charged. as so much meaty, and deducted from, the pittance of , his salary. " , Thas 'be' is 'wounded to. , the quick by the double wrong of being made to i ,receive as a charity,' artielis which perhaps he - does not. want, and then .haviog - the amount taken from what is his rightful, , ~ Perhaps some of our readers are incredulous of such things: They cannot believe that theyex ist. : :Men - who, wOuldriWtriitie4 - ailinister, they say, and with reason, and net fitlo have a minis ter. One who has the shake to be thrown among them, ought to off the dust of his feet and depart 'from them. Let such listen to the following story."^ . , Not long ago, in a place;no matter where, a' mi nister was charged with a -crime which led to a legal examination. Whether there was the slight est ground for even a suspicion in the ease, or whether the accusation was' got' up by the malice of wicked men, is not for us to say. We have no wish .to judge , a case which. is - still before the courts, but we cannot forbear calling attention to the following delicate...morceam elicited'. from a witness in the 'bourse of a preliminary examina tion, which shows how generousind magnanimous a parish may be in tbe - treatnient of a minister. The extract is made-literally from the printed' re port of the probeedings. -We put in italics seve ral. passages to which - we desire -to direct .special atteation: , . . . .. -2-----.---,---, sworn and * exam i ned, testifies and says: I reside, &c., ' . . . ' . . I was plerk of the church and society,- ./ have had a - difficultY with ilfr. ---; one in ?relation to church affairs, and one personal. The qle,urch, ckfikultywas izbout the paymentof-hii-saletry. It was about apply ing ft, part,of the donation,, or all of it, on his sa lary. I claimed that the proceedi of the_donation should be applied in pay rent of Ms salary. Mr. refused altogether. :Not:until after a sharp contest did Mr. --,---- agree to have the money portion, applied on his salary; the other articles he refusdd to have applied on it. The other articles were some.grain, and some'clothing for the family, and some vegetables. He refused to take what, .was called by him- "pop corn and: little stockings." There was, some contention about that, in which .I was an active party. I did claim that for one Sabbath, on which, the church, was closed and kr. was ready to preach, 46 should be docked down on, his salary for not preaching. I also had a.personal quarrel with-Mr. —. It was a pretty sharp one--somewhat so. When, he left there I entertained unkind and unfriendly feelinos• it is still my state of mind: '. Question—Did. pop corn and small stockings form a part of the donation which' you Insisted he should take? Answer—lt did not, taken.together; the stock ings did, the pop corn did not. The stockings were not those partly lean and sent in by the poor peOple. --4:44. 4. ` say; that as a donation from poor people; he thanked. deem for it, butob jected to being , charged with it? Answer—Don't recollect that he _did; think he did not. This was what'Mr. calledthe pop corn and stocking transadtion." On re-examination, witness says: Mr. ---- was to have for his services $6OO. It was to include _everything received iu,the church, and lie need not expect to receive anything more from any source whatever. A part of that donation was in mo tney, about $4O or $5O, and about $3O or 's4o of other articles, as appraised. , The $3O or' $4O which was furnished him in artieles„ he did, not allow at all. teuesuon—W as your agrment to give $6OO in money? Answer—ln making the agreement the word money was not used. I understood we were atdi bertyto pay that $6OO in ,specifie articles: 31r. said he did not ,so understand it. I under steed the trustees we're at liberty, to, select the spe cific articles, which Hr. was hound to re ceive. Question--Did you understand, if the Trustees furnished. with a pair of horses and a carriage,,was he bound to receive it on his salary? Answer—l so understood it, if they could agree on, the firice. I understood if one of hisparishion ers furnished him with - abarrel of flour, it was to be deducted from his .salary. He accused the church of not paying him promptly. The: aceu.sa tion was true. He also accused -them of wishing .to apply 'the donation on his Salary. That was also true. He also complained .of them for de ducting the Sabbath. He got his salarY by re ceiving the money part of the donation in full, ancl in no other way. We do not need to, add anything, to the tesi- Inony here given by one•who acknowledges that Ike has "twice had a•diffioulty" _ with the man he 1113 E `testifies againit, and is still animated by "unkind and unfriendly , feelings" .towards him: • Of' the temper he, manifests we say nothing. We refer to his testimonyonly as showing limo a parish-may treat a minister. Here was a ; preacher called to Settle over a church with a promiied salary of six hundred dollars . a ,year! Not( a very great Sum for• a man with 'O. family. But he ;accepts their call and becomes-their pastor. Presently, when the salary comes to be paid,.he. finds that "the Clerk of the society" does not,'"understand" that the agreement is to' pay hint six 'Mildred' dollars in money, but that they may pay him in such ar ticles as i t hoy,find Inosticouvpient, All of which he is bound to receive! Of course, with this large liberty, ;every man will give of his superfluous ar ticles, taking suChas are 'most easylot him rather than. Snell as are , moat useful for the: Minister. Theta comes the Donation Party i -in which: this ge nerous parish fill his heusemith all sect of arti cles---amortgi .are ~some steres useful family,Yet' Of thetie . nuich"greafer ipuiptitytlian belies heat litkdd alonviwith them, a` variety ot Nt nioknacke liich=are of at trifling value, which maybe pretty.orna ments, but which, compelled as he is to live on a very acuity -income, he would neier think of buy ing? Tfids - taken altogether the whole cargo is probably very different from what he would buy if `he had the`Money. Still he is bound to take them all, good, Ind, and indifferent, and allow' them eia his :salary. Son hat such a :''Donation" party amounts to a sort of uountry fair, at which the peoPle bring in, whatever they have to dispose of, and the poor Minister, willing or unwilling' is compelled' to be the purchaser. Then comes a gun day in which the church "is closed," for what cause does net,. appeal; it May be for cleaning or repairs, but by no fault, of the nainistei, for he is on hand and "ready to preach," but because of this:forced silence, the most liberal clerk thinks -"he should be docked down on:his salary!" Was •there ever a more pitiful instance of grind ing.the face •of the :poor than this treatment by a, parish: of a man whom they had called to be their pastor?. With what heart could he stand up from week to week .topreach to a people that he must feel were treating him with the grossest injustice; in whose hard faces he could read only parsimony and avarice? We speak severely, not because we have any special interest in this particular case, for the, minister here referred to, we have never seen, nor had , a line from, nor known even, by name, until we. saw it coupled with this matter. 'But what is done in one case, may be done in others. It is not a-solitary act of cruelty which makes us indignant, so mitchas the . general wrong to a whole profession. It .is by being compelled to subMit to such petty acts of injustice that the ministry is humiliated and degraded before - the world. Men who can stoop to such penurious ness, need to repent and huinble themselves, be fore God, remembering of what class Christ has said, that it ,more difficult fors them to go into the kingdom of heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle PRAYER. Prayer is not a special gift, set apart for privi leged souls alone. It is a common duty, imposed upon every believer. It is not solely a virtue of perfection, and reserved for certain purerund inoro.holy,peuls;-. it, ",m,-like:charity r an-tiindjapeknsa ble virtue ; requisite to the perfeet as to . the im perfect; within the capacity of the illiterate equally as of the learned; commanded to the simple as to the most enlightened. It is the virtue of all men; it is the science of every be liever; it is the perfection of every creature. Whoever has a heart, and is capable of loving the author of his being—whoever has reason capa ble of knowing the nothingness of the creature and the greatness of God, must know how to adore, to return Him thanks and to have re course to Him • to appease Him when offended, to call upon Him when turned away, to thank ,Him when favorable, to humble himself when, He strikes, to lay his wants before Hing or to entreat His countenance and protection. Thus, be ye who you may, that .now listen to me; he faithful to prayer, and, in the fulfilment of this duty, you will find all the rest sustained and - rendered easy. If a sinner, pray. It was through prayer alone that the publican and the sinful women of the Goapel obtained feelings of compunction, and the grace of athorough penitence; and prayer is the only source and the only pack of righteous ness. If .righteons, still pray; perseverance in faith and in piety is promised only to prayer, and `by prayer it was that Job, that David, that Tobia's persevered to the end. If you live amid sinners and your duty does not permit you to withdraw yourself from the sight of their irregularities and examples, pray. .The greater the dangers the more necessary does prayer become; the three Children in the flames, and Jonas in the belly of a monster, found safety only through prayer. If the engagements of your birth, or of your station, attach yen to the court of kings, pray. Esther in the, court of Ahasuerus, Daniel in that of Darius, the prophets in the palaces of the kings 'of Israel, were solely indebted to prayer for 'their life and salvation. If you live in retirement, pray; soli tude itself becomes a rock, if a continual inter course with God does not defend us against our selves. If established in the church for the in struction' of the people, pray; all the power and all the success of the ministry must depend upon your prayers. The Apostles converted the' uni verse, solely because they had appropriated no thing to, themselves but prayer and the• preaching of the Gospel. Lastly, whoever you are,--I again repeat it,— in prosperity or indulgence, in , joy or in affliction, in trouble or in peace, 'in fervency'or in despon dency, in sin or-in the ways of righteousness, vanced in . virtue or still in.the first steps of peni tence, pray; - prayer is the safety of all stations, the consolatibn of all sorrows, the duty of all.con ditions, the soul of piety, the support of faith, the grand foundation of religion, and all religion itself. U my God! shed, then, upon us that, spirit of grace and of piayer which was ,to be the distin guishing mark'of Thy Church, and the portion of a new people;'and purify our hearts and our lips, that we .may,ho enabled to cffer up to . Thee pure homages, fervent sighs, and prayers worthy of the eternal riches which Thou haat so.oftenpromised to those .who shall have well entreated Thee. CHRIST. AND ADAM. Is it needful to point out the circumstances, so favorable, to the first Adam,,:who nevertheless fell; and the altered circumstance, so altogether Ml verse, amidst Which the last Adam nevertheless triumphed? Surrounded by the sweet amenities and overflowing sufficiency of Eden, the head. of the covenant of works fell—tempted, with the fruit he so little needed. Surrounded by the hor rors of the wilderness; without food for forty days, and now a hungered; the Head of the covenant of grace refused to grasp in unbelief—though im mediately,at-his disposal as God—the food which, as man , , he needed: so deeply. ,With the mew created animals around him, in placid peace, each obedient to his, gentle sway; hiniself,' under God, the lord of them all, absolute dispoier of thence' by divine right; alike able and entitled, therefore, is their king, to slay with instant ; death any serpent .them all, beneath., whose glittering formor glozing _tongue treason to . heaven's . high King might hirk—the first Man' fell. The second Man was , "in *the Wilderness' flirty days,"tetapted 'age tan, and was with the. toad.beasts!! - : • Christ's Presence in the Gospel „History Evil thouglas.nlileh enter into the heart, blit are liated,' hurt it'not. -~'~ti N. Y. Evangelist. Massillon AN ELOQUENT APPEAL FOR WATER. We, have .heard Jowl B. GOUGH utter many eloquent things, but we never heard ,water de fined in, such thrilling eloquence as in the follow ing, which we have published before. It will pay reading a dozen times. Mr. Gough often declaims it.; but it originated with Paul Denton, an itine rant of the Methodist Church _ : in Texas, and was delivered at a barbecue which Denton prepared, and to `which` he invited the rangers. ;The smoking viands . were arranged on the ta bles by scores of slaves, and the throng prepared to commence the sumptuous meal, when a voice ,pealed from the pulpit, loud as the blast of trumpet in battle--" Stay, ladies and gentlemen, till the' giver' of the barbecue asks God's bless tug. Every heirt started, every eye.was directed to the speaker, - and- a whisperless silence ensued, for alike were struck by his remarkable appear tre'irio iiliriosti'gfitiVill %afore,'tilibugh ibareely' thirty years of age. His hair; dark as the raven's wing, 'fibied down his inimense 'shoulders in 'masses of naturaliringleth; his eyes, black as mid night, beamed like stars over a face pale as Parian' marble 7 -calm, passionless, spiritual, and wearing a aingitlar, indefinable expression.' The heteroat neous •croUtd--hunterty gamblers, and homicides, 'gazed in : mute astonishment. The missionary prayed, but itsounded like no other prayer ever • addressed,to a throne of Grace—it was the cry of a naked soul, and that soul a beggar for the bread and water of heavenly life. He ceased, and not till then did I become con scious 'of weeping: I looked around through my tears, and• saw hundreds of faces wet as with rain. "Now ' . my friends,". said the missionary, " par take of God's gifts at the table, and then come and sit down and listen to his gospel." it would .be impossible to describe the sweet tone of kindness, with which these simple words were uttered, that made him on the instant five hunlired friends. One heart, however, in the as sembly, was maddened by the evidence of the preacher's wondrous power. Col. Watt. Forman exclaimed in , a sneering voice: "Mr. Paul Denton, your reverence has led! You - promised not only a good barbecue, but bet ter-liquor.. Where is the liquor?" " There!" answered the missionary in tones of thunder, and pointing his motionless finger at the matchless Double Spring gushing up in two strong columns, with 'a sound like a shout of joy from - the bosom of the earth. "There!" he repeated, with a look terrible as lightning, while his enemy actually trembled at his feet. " There is the li quor which God the Eternal brews for all his chil dren. Not in the simmering still, over smoky fires, choked,with poisonous gases, and surrounded with the stench of sickening odors and rank ear ruPtion, does your Father in heaven prepare the _precious essence of life, the pure cold water. But in the green glade and, grassy dell, where the red deer wanders, and the child loves to play, there God brews it; and down—down in the deep val ley, where the fountains murmur and the rills sing: and.high on the mountain top, where the .naked granite glitters, like gold in the sun, where the storm cloud broods and thunder tones crash, and' far away out on the wide, wide sea, where the hurricane howls music, and the big waves roar the chorus, "sweeping the march of God, there: he brews it, the beverage of life, health-giving water. And everywhere-it is a thing of beauty; gleaming in the dewdrop, singing in the summer rain, shining in the ice-gem, till the trees all seem turned to living jewels, spreading a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon; sporting in - the cataract, sleeping in the glacier, dancing in the hail-shower, folding its bright snow curtains softly about the wintry world; and weaving the many colored 'iris, that seraph's zone of the sky,' whose woof is the sun beam of heaven, all .checked over with celestial flowers by the mystic hands of refraction. Still, always it is beautiful—that blessed life-water ! No poison bubbles on its brink, its foam brings not'madness and murder, no blood stains its liquid glass, pale widows and starving orphans weep not burning tears, in its clear depths; no drunkard's shrieking ghost curses it from the grave in words of eternal despair! Speak out, my friends, would you exchange it for that demon's drink— alcohol ?" A shout like the roar of the tempest answered --At No 1" Critics need never tell me again that back woodsmen, are deaf to. the divine -voice of elo quence—for I saw at that moment the missionary held the hearts of the multitude, as it were, in the hollow of his hand, and the popular feeling Tan in a current so irresistible, that even the du ellist, Watt. Forman, dared not venture another interruption during the meeting. The camp meeting continued, and a revival attended it, such as never before or since was witnessed in Texas. THE ARABIC LANGUAGE The,.Arabic language is a unique. Here even Hebrew yields, and scarce any other tongue pre tends to enter into competition. With the ex ception of the hieroglyphics, there are but frag meets of Egyptian under the names Amharic and Coptic, and they are comparatively modern, and exasting•only in copies of parts of the Scriptures. Anaient Syriac and Chaldee are no longer living tongues, Chinese is comparatively barren; San suit exists only in ,its literature, Greek and La tin are mere moderns in comparison, while brew is itself no longer spoken. We 'cannot, of course, say that Arabic is entirely uneorrupt even in the Koran, but in all essential points the Be daween who to-day lie in a circle round their fire in the desert, speak the saxne language las that spoken before Rome was cradled, or Cadmus brought letters into Greece. Yet this is but a - very small part of this interesting subject. The Arabic is kindred with the Hebrew. It is not a. mere likeness .by which we may guess from one to the other. It is a close connexion—a consan guinity in structure, in modes of thought and ex pression. It is a resemblance such as obtains be - tween Spanish and Portuguese, between German and Butch, or almost between dialects of the same language. The words are often . almost identical, and the roots precisely the same. The conse quences that flew from this are most striking. The first is the obvious confirmation of the truth of the intimate union of the stream when it sprung into two-branches from the parent source. Isaac and Ishmael could, almost now, converse together, if Israel bad not been scattered amongst every people under heaven, and so' lost his language with his independence, whilst his wild brother has preserved both. The second of these consequences has powerfully influenced sacred literature. It will be observed that the only, work extant in pure Hebrew is , the Old Testament Scriptures. All other Hebrew books are written in a corrupt dia lect called Rabbinic. It frequently occurs in the interpretation 'of the - Hebrew Scriptures that words appear, but once or seldom, so that the meaning is.not quite certain. • When. ords occur frequently, it will be seen that the method of translating is to recur to other passages where the same word appears. When this cannot be done, recourse is had- to - the root of the word; but this cannot always be ascertained : with certainty, and it, is not always—though far more frequentl tl in modern languan—a certain test. What is to be. done? Arabic literature is cepious; turn to its 'condensation in -fotir n'oble ftilios, called Preytag'S , Arabie Lexicon, and there is, perhaps, the . very. Nord, .or,ono, clearly: allied to it, pre served in the. living ,language, of Hagar, or in •1 a hundred vOlumes. This "resource was so usefut, theinineed rich, that 4 beeatie at perfedt passibb VOL. ia—Wholo No. 230. with Gesenius to refer every .thing the least ob. scare in. Hebrew to Arabic roots. . The Arabic language itself, independently of . associatiOn, singularly noble. Its , cepiousness is almost beyend belief. Besides endless inflec tions of verbs, and. a wonderful variety in the meaning of each, there are sometimes hundreds of words, literal and figurative, for the same idea. Thus, the Arabs say that they have one thousand names for' a sword, five hundred for a lion, &e. Of course nvait number of the& are figurative. Indeed, they boast that no uninspired man can become a master of Arabic. A slight acquaint ance,.even,With oriental languages, fills every one with admiration of this 'powerful and beautiful tongue. The Book of Job, though written in Hebrew, is - strongly Arabic in' its ,character. As Carlyle says, "I call that, (the Book of Job,) apart "from all theories about it, one of the grandest things ever written with pen. One feels, indeed, as if it were note Hebrew—such a noble, universality, different from noble patriotism, or sectarianism, reigns in it. 'A noble Book I—all men's Book'. Itis.our first, oldest statement of, the never ending, prob lem—man's destiny, and God's way with him here in this earth: And all in such free, - flowing outlines—grand in its sincerity, in its simplicity, in its epic melody, and repose of reconcilement. There is the seeing eye, the mildly understanding heart. So true every wiy; true eyesight and 'vision for all things; material things no less than spiritual. The horse---cllast thou clothed his neck with thunder?' he laughs at the shaking of the spear!' Such living likenesses were never since drawn. Sublime sorrow, sublime reconci liation; oldest choral melody as of the heart of mankind; so soft and great; as the summer mid night, as the world with its seas and stars ! There is nothing written, I think, in the Bible or out of it, of equal literary merit."--res. Quarterly Re view. It cannot but . be so, when Sonsbip is in any conjunction with sin. Immediately, on such con junction, the Sonship though not overthrown is concealed. Its fulness of grace and truth; its im pregnable, inviolable _security; its splendors of convincing evidence; its nnsearchable riches of privilege; its incorruptible 'and undefiled inheri tance that fadeth not away;—all retire out of view and remain concealed. They may all abide most sure and full—in the spiritual kingdom that tran sccndeth time and sense: But on the platform of temporal interests and things palpable to sense and reason, the evidence of the Sonship has va nished. And not only so. All that on_ that plat form might seem relevant to the question gives an adverse testimony. The Son would appear to be treated as an outcast. Apparently he is dis owned. Tulels-- TBMPTATION. It is the essence—it is the great and 0-embracing case—of tempta tion. To be a son of God, verily and irrefraga bly; and yet to have no evidence of it within the sphere of sense and time and reason • but every thing in these categories rather contradicting your claim;—this is your probation of God while here; this is what Satan malignantly manages against you.. * * * * * * * But no. "It cloth not yet appear." Frankly =muster owartlyo iserceptible- F "ustlyrobes of primogeniture, whiter than the snow, adorn us; and no fair mitre made after any pattern shown in the mount; to certify that we are priests. No throne; no sceptre; no regalia; have we—in proof that Christ bath loved us and made us kings. And no Mahartaim of the Lord, no visible angelic hosts r encompass us on either band, proclaiming: "Thus shall it be done to the man whom the king delighteth to honor." Nor do the forests clap their hands at our approach; nor the mountains and the hills break forth into singing; in welcome to the sons and heirs of the King of glory. Rather, the whole creation groaneth because our sonship is hidden, waiting for the manifesta tion of -It (Rom. rib_ 19.) There is a shameful cross lying heavy on our shoulder, rather than a graceful diadem shining on our head. No palm of victory is ours; but the trembling and the toil of battle. Diseases grapple with our frame, having no respect to our adoption. And manifold afflic tions fall on us—even mere than on ether men (Ps. lxxiii.)—and the sighing thereof clash rudely on the ear of sense with our high claim to be the family and seed-royal of heaven. And death at last confronts us; and makes it far more manifest that we are victims of the loathsome grave, than sons of Ged and immortality: as if we must say unto Corruption—not to God—Thou art my Fa ther; and to the worm, Thou art my sister; rather than the Son of God call us his brethren. Verily our sonship is concealed. "Our life is hid." There are some subjects closely related to those treated by the gospel, which it has not even men tioned, as suicide, slavery, etc. These last, so far from deserving to be excluded from preaching, are sometimes among the most interesting and most evangelical subject& -The silence of the gospel on these points has . been complained of, but we ought rather to be pleased that it has 'not said every thing. Besides circumstantial reasons, we must consider in general that the gospel would put us under the necessity of finishing, - of completing things for ourselves. The chnrch is the continued revealer of truth; it can, add •nothing to principle but developing, applying, inferring principle, it has always to be active, always advancing. If the gospel had said every thing there, would_be no need of preaching: Christianity embraces all. It shows the so vereignty of its principles, not by destroying any ,thing whatever, but by assimilating all things to itself. To the Christian, everything Christian. Nothing is solutely fo reign to the province of the gospel. It saves the whole of man. It saves the whole of life. Nothing except sin is profane. Life is not di vided. There is no point at which Christianity stops abruptly. As•well forbid the atmosphere of two countries to intermix above the moun tains which form a boundary between them. The proper controversy of the pulpit is contro versy with sin, which is. the great heresy. It is better to overcoine . evil with good, to absorb error in truth. Virtutem videant. We must observe the errors which appear in the places where we preach; those at least which have forting therein; but we must not do them the service of publishing them and propagate while we oppose them Revealed religion leads . better to the natural, than the latter to .the former. Natural religion, as it is called, assumes the reality, and deserves the name of religion only after it has recived the seal of revelation. For natural religion, in the strict sense, there is none. Revelation gives a cer tainly, anew perception to truth; which though presupposed, have . as .yet viality, no influence on the conscience. Oratorically, the truths of na tural .religion are nothing; and the oratorical ad vantage of the 'Christian over the rationalistic preacher beyond estimation. ~~ ~ , ~~ L , '> ~~`,`. OUR SONSHIP CONCEALED. Cbrist's Presence in the - Gospel History THE UNFOLDING OF PRINCIPLE. THE PROVINCE OF THE PULPIT. Rev. T. H.Skinner's Vinet's Homiletics. PULPIT CONTROVERSY NATURE AND REVELATION.
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