The American Presbyterian. (Philadelphia) 1856-1869, December 20, 1860, Image 1

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    GENESEE EVANGELIST.—WhoIe No. 762.
ottleg.
HOW SHALL I THINK OP THEM
TROM THE LOST HUNTER
How shall t think of Thee, eternal Fountain
Of earthly Joys and boundless hopes divine,
Of Thee, whose mercies are beyond recounting,
To whom unnumbered worlds in praises shine?
I see thy beauty in the dewy morning,
And in the purple sunset's changing dyes;
Thee I behold therainbow's arch adorning;
Thee in the starry glories of the skies.
The modest flower, low in the green grass blushing,
The wondrous wisdom of the honey bee,
The birds' clear joy in streams of music. gushing,
In sweet and varied language tell of Thee.
All things are with Thy loving presence glowing,
The worm as well as the bright, blazing star
Out of Thine infinite perfection flowing,
For Thine own bliss and their delight THEY KEE
But chiefly in the pure and trusting spirit,
Is Thy choice dwelling•place, Thy brightest throne,
The soul that loves shall all of , good inherit,
For Thou, 0 God of love, art all Its own.
Upon Thine altar I would lay all feeling,
Subdued and hallowed to Thy perfect will,
Accept these tears, a thapful heart revealing,
A heart that hopes, that trembles, and is still
For the American Presbyterian.
"How TO ENJOY LIFE:" OR PHYSICAL
AND MENTAL HYGIENE.*
ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS.--NO. 2.-PITBLIO WORSHIP.
BY Wlll. M. CORNELL, M. D.
.Dependence of the Soul—True Enjoyment
only in God—Public Worship—Knowledge of
God—What Worship is—Bound to Worship
God for his Perfections—Good Men, the Be-
Election of God—Worship for Favors Bestowed
—The Work of Redemption—Temporal Uti
lity of Public Worship—Rs Influence over the
Social Affections—A Means of Conversion—
Of Growth in Grace—Profession---.The Gos-
pel no Debtor—Man cannot enjoy Life with
out it—The French Nation, without a Sabbath
In my last I, spoke of the mind, soul, spirit.
It seems appropriate to speak nest of the depend
enee of such a spirit upon its Creator and Pre
server; of the enjoyment to be found in his ser
vice, and the consequent benefits of such recogni
tion and adoration, Such a spirit can be hap??
nowhere but in the enjoyment of its Maker; and
this opens to us the great subject of worship.
Sterne has well said, "Alas! if the principles of
contentment are not within us, the height of sta
tion and worldly grandeur will as soon add a cubi
to a man's stature as to his happiness."
But in no situation does man find true content
ment, save in the communion which he has with
his Maker. I might here dwell on meditation,
reflection, prayer; but as these pertain to indivi
dual happiness, and, as I have in past articles upon
this subject had reference to the clerical profes,
sion, and as I design not to forget the clergy in
these additions, I will select that worship for the
present topic in which they bear a conspicuous
part, namely, the Public Worship of God.
Man evidently depends upon some being, and
is instinctively led to express that dependence by
acts of worship. We know something of this
Being from his "works," from which are "clearly
seen his eternal power and Godhead;" but still
more from that volume wherein He is declared. to
be "a Spirit."
Even with both these—his works and his word
—we know very little about God; and without
the latter, we should feel very much as a cele-
brated heathen did, when asked to give his opi
nion relative to lie nature of God. He replied
that he wished for a day to consider before he gave
an answer, At the end of the day he desired an
other, and then another, and finally at the end of
the third day, confessed that " the more he thought
of the subject, the more unwilling he was to give.
an answer."
Even with the Bible, we know very little about
God, because the nature of the subject is so far
beyond our compreftnsion.
“Could we conceive him, God He could not be,
Or He not God, or we could not be men.”
But we know enough of Him to command our
private and our public adoration. It is said above
that man is dependent. This dependence', from
the nature of the soul, he is led to express in acts
of worship. This worship, when spiritual and
sincere, gives the most substantial enjoyment.
Worship implies love, reverence, adoration, and
obedience to the Being worshipped. Before we
can love, reverence and adore God, we must have
some knowledge of him, and form some definite
idea of his character. It will be this idea
which we form in our minds, that We love. This
we reverence and adore. If we form a true idea
of the character we profess to dove, we do in truth
love him. But if the idea or character, which we
thus form and love, is ant true one, we do not I
love the true God; but an idol of our own imagi
nation.
Such worship resembles that of ancient
Athens, filled with idols, while its inhabitants
were " too superstitious," and yet the true God
was "unknown," and "ignorantly worshipped!"
Not to dwell on these points, which may seem
'to some of our readers quite theological; especially,
as the order of our time is opposed to dry doc
trines, and craves "light bread," let me come to
the point, 'the duty, advantage and enjoyment of
public worship.
We are bound to worship God for his own in
trinsic excellence; and as we are social beings,
and have social privileges, we are bound to wor
ship him socially, or in the great congregation.
Moreover, the Bible holds it up as the first duty
and privilege of man to worship God "in the as
sembly of his saints;" "not forsaking the
,assem
bling of ourselves togethery as the manner of some
When did our Creator ever command us to do
that which was not for our good; ultimately, for
our happiness us well as for his glory? If infinite
excellency be an object of love, veneration and
worship in all its properties, God is this object in
the highest degree. He is the fountain from
which everything excellent and lovely flows. If
on earth there be a personage possessed of amiable
ness in an eminent degree, anci l highly exalted by
his acquaintance for his virtue and worth, he is
infinitely inferior in every excellency to God; and
all that he possesses is the gift of God, flowing
• [Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1660, by WY.
M. Colmam., in Use Clerk's Office of the Markt Court of the United
amble, for the Eastern District of Dehlleyirellial
from him as streams from their fountain. As the
moon shines by a lustre borrowed from the sun,
so he, in all that he possesses, reflects only a faint
ray of the divine beauty and excellency.
If, in heaven, there is an angel of spotless pu
rity, and highly exalted in the scale of moral ex
cellency, he is but the oreatiod of God, and infi
nitely below him in all that is excellent and lovely.
Could we combine in one mass all that is glorious,
praiseworthy and excellent in the universe, we
should still have but as a sand in the balance, when
weighed against the infinite glory and perfection
of Jehovah. All good proceeds from Him, and
yet his fulness is not diminished. What a source
of enjoyment, then, must be the communion of
the human soul with such a Being! It is the
most healthful symptom of a happy soul, to love the
worship of such a Being in the assembly of his
saints. Indeed, such a spirit, as we spoke of in
the last chapter, can find true enjoyment nowhere
but in such a God.
But there is another reason wbywe should 'eve
the public-worship - Of God,-and that is, for favors
bestowed' upon us as social beings. If favors be
stowed justly demand a return of love in propor
tion to their value, then God may well claim from
men the highest veneration :and most profound
worship. Who, on account of benefits conferred,
can rival Him who gave us all our faculties, who
constantly preserves us, who "setteth the solitary
in families," and who blesses our households?
Turn your eye within and see what you can find
in the social affections, or the operations of the
mind, which God has Tlot given. View these
curiously made bodies, and see "what God has
wrought." Whence came all our capacity for en
joyment? Why is not every sound a shriek of
terror? Why is not every sight that "of gar
ments rolled in blood? Why does not perpetual
winter bind the earth in icy fetters? Why is not
every plant in the vegetable world a poison; every
beast in the animal a tiger thirsting for blood?
Simply because God is good, and from him these
gifts - descend, and to him, for them, our hearts
should be drawn out in worship by all the cords
of gratitude. Nowhere can, good men find such
enjoyment as in the worship of. God;, hence the
following exclamation of the sweet singer of Is
rael, when deprived of the privilege of the sanc
tuary:—"How amiable are thy tabernacles, 0
Lord 1 My soul longeth; yea fainteth for the
courts of the Lord. A day in thy courts is better
than a thousand." This is health to the spirit—
the true hygiene of the mind.
' There is still a work of God before which those
of creation, providence, and all our social privi
leges &kindle into insignificance—a work at which
angels wonder, and devils tremble. It is the work
of redemption. When the fatal fruit was torn
from the tree of knowledge,
"Whose mortal taste
Brought death into our world, and all our WO,"
God, instead of barring man from Eden, by a
flaming sword, devised a plan of redemption; gave.
his Son to die, "that through his - qc; e ind inter
cession the guilty might one dak e :\,,. a fairer
Paradise, where no fruit shall tempo-ro serpent
enchant. For this work, the soul of man should
ever thrill with ecstacy. Human hearts cannot
conceive, human tongues cannot express it. "The
angels desire to look into it." Fathom, if you
can, that ocean of gratitude which such a work
demands. Eternity will be but long enough to
tell the story of wonder. The true hygiene of the
soul is to kn'llv "God's saving health" as diffused
through the plan of redemption.
We are furnished with another argument for
the public worship of God, in its temporal utility.
In it is true health for both soul and body. It is
one of the strongest pillars of civil society. The
true happiness, the richest enjoyment of civil so
ciety consists in the suppression of crime; the cul
tivation of the benevolent and social feelings, and
the enjoyment of such laws as secure to all their
rights and privileges. The preaching of the gos
pel is the strongest antidote against crime. Those
who have been trained up under the influence of
the sanctuary, who have known this spiritual hy
giene of the soul, this grand prophylactic against
crime, have rarely been found guilty of any flagrant
offence. The number of malefactors brought to
the bar of justice has been found to be in.propor
tion to the number of those who habitually neg
lect the public worship of God.
This worship extends the same benign and sa
lutary influence over the benevolent and social af
fections. It enjoins upon man every duty by the
weighty consideration of reward or punishment
from God suited to our character. It inculcates
everything connected with peace, honor and hu
man felicity; and discountenances, by the most
weighty considerations, everything hurtful and
dangerous, or tending to mar the enjoyment of
life.
Its blessings are not confined to one class, but
extend to all. Here the ruler and the ruled, the
parent and the child, the master and the servant,
all meet for the same end, all stand on the same
level, all participate in one common blessing.
Here they have solemnly impressed upon their
minds the greed, reciprocal duties they owe each
other; and all true worshippers are one in Christ
Jesus. The public worship of God thus becomes
the bond and cement of society, its firmest sup
port, its greatest ornament, its richest source of
enjoyment.
Furthermore, it has pleased God that the insti
tution of public worship should be the chief means
by which sinners should be converted. Those
who neglect its ministration have but little reason
to expect that "grace of God that bringeth salva
tion." "Faith °meth by hearing, and hearing by
the word of God; and how can they hear without
a preacher?" "How beautiful are the feet of him
that bringeth glad
,tidings! That publisheth
peace !" Those who wait upon God in . his sanc
tuary may hope for that "grace that bringeth sal
vation." Here "the law, of God becomes our
school-master to bring us to Christ." Here "the
wages of sin are shOwn to be death, and the gift
of God eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."
Here we are shown our guilt; the iniquities of the
heart are laid °open, and our alienation from God
made manifest. Here, too, "the Lamb of God
who taketh away the sin of the world," is pointed
out as the only Saviour.
"The pulpit—
There stands the messenger of truth: there stands
The legate of the skies. His theme divine,
His office sacred, his credentials clear.
By bim the violated law speaks out
Its thunders; and by him, in strains as sweet
As angels use, the gospel whispers peace."
(Conclusion of the Chapter ne4 week.)
PHILADELPHIA, . .TIIUW3DAY.,i..._:,;t):E-R)TUf1H.4,;,.1560..-
For the American Presbyterian
ENGLISH EDUCATION IN INDIA.
MY DEAR EDITOR:-.—The value of English
education to the natives of India, is a subject
which has latterly elicited some difference of
views. The following testimony, jUst received
from India, and given by discriminating and ob
serving minds, brings to view one happy result
of such education, viz.:
"English education, conlbined with the influ
ence, direct or indirect, of Christian missions,
has created in Bengal (and in other parts of In
dia also) a peculiar and, in many respects, an
interesting class of people. They form an in
termediate class between the old orthodox, con
servative Hindoo party, and' free-thinking, fast ,
young Bengal. They may be characterized as
content with the position which an all wise Pro
vidence has meanwhile assigned to their country
in the community of nations, and anxious, at
the same time, to see their countrymen elevated
to a higher platform of soCial existence; loyal
'to their sovereign, the Queen of great Britain;
repudiating, as altogether unmanly, all feel
ings of antagonism towards the dominant race;
having no faith in the systems of religion
which hold sway over the minds and con
sciences of millions of their countrymen; and
believing, whether by outward profession or in
private,-in the only, true' revelation vouchsafed
to man."
I have no partisan views or feelings on the
subject iniolved in this statement, and never
taught English in my mission schools at .Kola
poor, though I did some six years in our Mis
sion Seminary at .Ahmednuggur. The results
in that Seminary fully corroborate the state
ment in this quotation. Of my English pupils,
some twenty have been converted, and several
of them are valuable native *lechers or pas
tors; and of those not professedly pious, I have
scores of letters showing their fast - friendship
for usmissionaries, and their honest convictions
of the truth-. I hear of the conversion of some
of them from time to time, and the influence
even of those who. remain in this intermediate
position is strongly in favor of Christianity.
While I have no partisan feelings on this
subject, and have borne no part in the public
discussions it has elicited in this country, I am
very willing to give my testimony to the special
value of this class of mission schools in some lo
calities and circumstances in India. They have
proved a very effective agency in breaking up
the superstitions and prejudices of the Hindus,
and hastening their evangelization.
Yours truly, R. G. WILDER..
December, 1360.
HURRIED DEVOTIONS.
Probably, many of us would be discomposed by
an arithmetical estimate of our communion with
God. it might.reveal to taw the-seeret-of-mnoh,of
our apathy in prayer, because it might disclose
bow little we desire _to. be alone with God. We
might learn from such a computation, that Angus
tine's idea of prayer, at the measure of love, is
not very flattering to us. We do not grudge time'
given to a privilege which we love.
Why should we expect to enjoy a duty which
we have no time to enjoy? Do we enjoy any
thing which we do in a hurry? Enjoyment pre
supposes something of mental leisure. How often
do we say of a pleasure, "I wanted more time to
enjoy it to my heart's content." But of all em
ployments, none can be more dependent on "time
for it," than stated prayer.
Fugitive acts of devotion, to be of high value,
must be sustained by other approaches to God,
deliberate, premeditated, regular, which shall be
to those acts like the abutments of a suspension
bridge to the arch that spans the stream. It will
never do, to be in desperate haste in laying such fonn
dations. This thoughtful duty, this spiritual
privilege, this' foretaste of uncorporeal life, this
communion with an unseen Friend,—can you
expect to enjoy it as you would a repartee or
dance?
In the royal gallery at Dresden, may be often ,
seen a group of connoisseurs, who sit for hours
before a single painting. They walk around those
halls and corridors, whose walls are so eloquent
with the,triumphs of Art, and they come back
and pause again before that one masterpiece.—
They go away, and return the next day, and
again the first and last object which charms their
eye, -is that canvass on which Genius has pictured
more of beauty than on any other in the world.
Weeks are spent every year, in the study of that
one work of Raphael. Lovers of art cannot en
joy it to the full, till they have made it their own
by prolonged communion with its matchless forms.
Says one of its admirers: " I could spend an hour
every day for years, upon that assemblage or
human, and angelic, and divine ideas, and on the
last day of the last year discover some new,beauty,
and a new joy."
I have seen men standing in the street, before
an engraving of that gem of the Dresden gallery,
a longer time than a good man will sometimes de
vote to his evening prayer. Yet, what thoughts,
what ideals of grace, can Genius express in a
painting, demanding time for their, appreciation
and enjoyment, like those great thoughts of God,
of- Heaven, of Eternity,. which the soul needs to
conceive vividly, in order to know' the blessedness
of prayer ? What conceptions can art imagine of
the "Divine Child," which ean equal in spirituality,
the- thoughts which one needs to entertain of
Christ, in the "prayer of faith?" We cannot
hope, commonly, to spring into'possession of such
thoughts, in the twinkling of an eye.
THE PAPAL CHURCH
A..letter from Rome, in the Monde, gives the
following statistical details: • .
"The Roman Catholic world is divided into
1,007 bishoprics or prelacies, with episcopal ju
risdiction, under different titles—apostolic vica
riates, abbatial jurisdictions or territories, nui
lus diocesan. Of the 1,007, 681 are in Europe;
128 in Asia, 29 in Africa, 146 in America, and
23 in Oceanica. In Europe there are two pa
triarchs, 116 archbishops, 484 bishops, 45 con
cathedrals, 15 abbots or priors with quasi-epis
copal jurisdiction, 6 military chaplains, 18 vi
cars, delegates and apostolical prefects. In Asia
there are 6 patriarchs, 3 archbishops, 54 bishops,
65 apostolical vicars and prefects. In Africa
there are 10 bishops and 19 apostolical vicars
and prefects. In America there are 22 arch
bishops, 115 bishops, and 9 apostolical vicars.
In Oceanica, 2 archbishops, 12 bishops, 8 apos
tolical vicars, 1 apostolical prefect.
A Conference Between High Church Protes
tants and Roman Catholics.—Professor Leo, of
Haile, with several other prominent men of the Ger
man High Churchmen, have had a conference at Er
furt; with Stollberg, Dr. IVlichaelis; and other influ
ential ultramontanes, to discuss the possibility of ef
fecting a union between the High Church Protes
tants and the Roman Catholics. Preparations are
made for holding another conference of the same
kind on a larger scale.
LETTER - MRS. fENTON.
- Bhamiln, Mt. Lebantll), irov. 1, 1860.
M DEAR MR. EE I III`OR 1 ., -:-.Y04 delightful pa
peri of October 4th, laas just iea iied our distant
mountain home. You niention it it that Bham
dun is yet safe; y„cs, bless th Lord with us.
When we consider the dangers nd trials which
encompassed II.; we are filled with wonder
and amazement. 1
While so many of the stations and out-sta
,
dons of the different missions in Syria have
been swept almost or quite out\of existence by
the terrible events which have occurred in this
unhappy country the past summit., we sing of
mercy and the prqecting grace if God. The
awful storm has pissed, and we itave lost no
thing; nay, our huMble station rind labors are
-a 'hundred-fold more deeply rooted in the hearts
of all the different
,sects arouKab9ut us. As
you will remember, we Stayed fer 4ty-five days
in the midst of the fires, well Itiotwing that if
we left, every family would folloir us, and. the
Druse women even would burn and plunder this
tml i,
and the little villages at S. '
,of us. , We
the
can never sufficiently thank God r enabling us
to stand. Now near four thous rid Christians
ark' safe in their houses, who, all f el to-day that
they owe their houses and prop ty to the in
fluence of your humble missiona les at Bham
dun. From Beirut to Damascus here is not a
Christian house or village left, gime Bhamdun ;
nay, from Beirut to India is one\ long track of
t
darkness, save this little oasis in. • 4 he heights of
Lebanon. Moslem fury seems tirred to the
depths, and all the poor so-called; Christians of
the Haunt; east 'of Damascus, are in .a state of
terror, and are coming as fast its possible to
Beirut The Pope and the falserr6phet seem
to be going down together. ~ ,
It appears that some of. our friends in Ame
rica look upon the late ferocious ckuilictbetween
the Druses and MaronitesasfAteliftuon as a re-
ligious war, a persecution upon the Christians
because, they bear t,Jie name of Chllst. It is our
object in the following brief statentent of facts,
to correct this mistake if it. e4sts. We all
know that the Moslem watchwoid is, enibrace
the faith of the Prophet or die. But not so the
Druses; they never proselyte, never persecute,
never fight for ;religion. "We make war on
those who make war on us." Tkey believe in
the pre-existence and in the transtnigration of
souls, and that God created the souls of all men
at the same time, so many bhristians, so. many
Moslems, so many Druses. :
The Druses are the original proprietors of
their part of the mountain. When they came
here with about thirty-three families, about one
thousand years ago, they found these wilds un
inhabited, save by the panther and, the wild boar.
They built comfortable houses,,and caused the
barren mountains to bring forth frult4or food.
_- The Christiana• PQ-MP frpni'tl4.orth 4 and set,
tied among them, purchasing land of them, and
~ ~.
when top poor to buy oceqied, the lands of the
sheikhs as tenants. The Sheikhs were feudal
..
lords, and reigned supreme in their, own moun
tain wilds. In process of time' the Christians
multiplied, till they became ten, to one of the
Druses. Jealousies, animosities, quarrels and
murders became common; there was no govern
ment to intervene, no law save that of revenge
and retaliation. The Druse notion of justice
is, that if a sect or nation is five or ten times as
large as another sect or nation, then five or ten
of the larger must cancel the blood of one of
the smaller. Thus they declared that for every
Druse murdered by the Christians they would
kill ten Christians.
At kat the war seemed inevitable. It is im
possiblelfor you to conceive the boastful pride
and arrogance of the Maronites and other Pa
pal sects. From the ill-fated town of Deir-el-
Kamr came the plan of exterminating the whole
Druse nation, or driving them all off to the
Munn and taking all their property in the
mountains. The Druses got ho'd of this con
spiracy, and the plan became universal among
the Christians. The Druses : were greatly
alarmed; they feared the supedor number.of
their enemies; they feared foreign intrigue,
especially as tbey knew Many of the Christians
were armed with French guns. No one expected
such results as have been witnessed. The Chris
tians tauntingly challenged thci Druses for a
day to fight; they would acceptnf no overtnres
for peace, except it should be the voluntary re
tirement of the Druses from the•iountain. The
Christians knew little of war, 1141. little ammu
nition', no leaders, no disciplin4 The Druses,
' "sons of the sword," regularly organized into
distinct elan under their noblh sheikhs, now
stood on the defensive. The Christian.soldiers
received the blessing of their bishops and priests,
were sprinkled with holy water) * d sent forth,
with the asSuranhrfEntiiii the ethers would
4 .
beseech the' Virgin and all'the',nts for their
success, and with burning zeal they-rushed upon
the bruses, "deteimined to make Clean work of
, it, and not leave a Druse alfiie enaJebanon."
Thus compelled to fight,ibe Druses flew into'
their ranks, and with fire and Si'ord, and With
an almost incredible • speed, devastated vil
lege after village and - town after town, fighting
like mad tigers; and the world has turned pale
at the recital of theiratrocious deeds. The
Lord gave them a tearful victory. Now the
armies of France are here to ask and demand
the rights of the conquered Papists. , Suppose
the scene transposed; had the bhristians ac
complished their most unchristian design, and
not left a Druse alive on Lebanon, who would
have asked after the rights, of these poor hea
then Druses? who ? Do the Christians of the
United States know that under the protection
of these same Druses the American missiona
ries entered Mount Lebanon, and that during
all these years we have never received a word
-of insult or unkindness from a..Druse, while by
these heathen Christians we have been .hated,
insulted, reviled, stoned,, mobbed, and been in
danger of our 'lives? Now, how can we see
,
these, our friends and protectors, heathen though
they be, driven out of their ancient homes and
possessions, and not lift up our voice against
it? As there are many well-disposed, peace
,loving people among the Christians, so there
are many high-minded, honorable and friendly
Druses; As a people the Druses are most kind
and hospitable to their friends, but cruel and
The Still Hour.
implacable to their enemies; they never forget
a kindness or forgive an injury. Daring the
terrible scenes of the past summer there have
been many houses and hundreds of lives saved
by friendly Druses. Bhamdun, and the other
villages and hamlets at the south of us, in the
district of the Jurd, were most completely in the
power of the Druses; but they took good advice,
kept their - neutral position, maintained their
fealty to the Drum governors, and all were
saved. As we stood by the Christian part of
our flock in their days of terror, so now we feel
it our duty to stand by our Drftse friends, and
do all we can to save their nation from destruc
tion.
When the French troops first entered Leba
non, the Druses of our district were all about to
flee, they knew not whither. Mr. Benton, after
consulting Lord Diifferin, the English Coma,.
sioner, advised them all to keep in their houses,
and nearly all stayed i,,s..opp?fttliOsnli3dsT ImPH
eated fled:fii Vitreff SIIIVeAa'S Seen,
that in all the past fire, and bloadshed, and Mas
sacre, the Turkish authorities have sided with
and set on the wild Drnses, and made them their
bloody weapon by which to wreak their ven
geance on the Christians. Now, with charac
teristic treachery, they forsake the Druses, and
appear willing to sacrifice the whole Druse na
tion and property to appease the wrath of of
fended Christendom, to wash out their own
crimes in the blood of the Druses. •
When Ibrahim Pasha, with his Egyptian rule,
was driven out of Syria in 140, the Druses took
part with the European Powers, and from that
time have regarded themselves as under the spe
cial protectipn of England. They have the
greatest ,respect and veneration for England,
hence the petition of the Druses to the Queen
of England.
There is no doubt but this war will open a
highway for the gospel. It has broken down
the pride of both the Druses and Christians, and
the Moslems are learning a most humiliating
lesson.
Before the Druses began •to celled to attack
Zahleh, the Turkish troops came np and ~enc
amped near Zahleh. We had heard from Beirut
that the troops were to go bettaen the contend
ing parties, to prevent further war. A large
company of our Bhamdun friends, some of them
Protestants, 'went out to - meet and welcome the
troops. The soldiers took them to - be Druses,
and congratulated them on their victories over
the Christians, called them "the sword of the
Moslem," but said, "don't think you- have ac
complished all the will of the Turk till you have
crushed the two heads of the serpent, Zahleh and
Deir el Kamr."
The,,Zahleans are rebuilding their houses as fast
as possible; the walls were of sun-burnt brick, atid
Mostly standing; they desire to get the' roofs on
befo,re,.t„he...he ik y r r a inia,
sionary family could go there now!, They would
give us a thousand welcomes now. ,
Most of the families of the Metn district are
returned to their desolate homes, and are living
in one corner of their roofless houses under a little
booth of leaves; few have any beds of covering.
Poor, poor things ! they come by scores to us every
day for medicines. A Protestant Swiss gentlel
man gave us .220 (about $75) for distribution; it
has been a great comfort to add this to our own
scanty means for the relief of the shivering poor.
Had it not been for the abundant charities of far
distant Christians, thousands would have starved
to death
Ever yours, for the daughters of Lebanon,
L. G. BENTON
GOD AMONG THE NATIONS
EXTRACT FROM A SERMON BY REY. E. E. ADAMS,
ON THE TEXT -"THE IS NOT YET."
I. God has still a work to do among the nations.
We do not argue the continuance of our world, in
its present condition, from the large tracts of un
cultivated, unemployed nature. The purposes of
civilization and the comforts df life are such, as well
as the system of compensation-which God has esta
blished in material things, that the forests are as
much needed as the cultivated fields; and the
warmth that diffuses itself through colder, regions,
from burning Saharas, cannot be spared from the
equilibrium of climatic action and law.
Nor do we predicate a long future for our earth
in its present condition, on the immense amount
Of materials which human• ingenuity is working,
and which might furnish the elements of labor for
millenniums to come; for God sees not in all this
a value so great that he would not consume it in
44 the last conflagration," if thereby it might con
tribute to the glory of the New Earth, wherein '
dwelleth righteousness.
We believe, however, that God has still a work
to do among men r ind therefore that "the end is
not yet."
None of the nations now existing have fulfilled
their mission. There is a prophecy in the- past,
and •it must become history. Some of the nations
and cities Of antiquity have done their work, and
had their day. Many have faded from the world,
because they failed to do their work. But Bri
tain, and 'France, and Russia, and Italy, and Ame
rica, and Africa, and Asia;.have yet to' completf:h
their history. And they shall not come to an end
too soon. The mighty - preparation through which
God _has„led our own, country, is, an intimation
that she shall yet endure.
But'this intimation has not the force of a gua
rantee. FOrGed does not est i mate worth, the va
lue of agencies, and ; materials ; and institutions, as'
we do. When the heavens parted, and the foun
tains
ofthe great deep were broken up to deluge
a godless world, the hand of vengeance was not
stayed for the wealth, and cities, and institutions
of men. Man is greatei: than institutions; and if
he is to fall a sacrifice to his sin, it will not be his
surroundings that shall ward off ,the descending
stroke. - •
But, in the days of the flood, God delayed his
coming for his church, and he spared the world
until the germ`of, a hew moral creation was fos
tered into vigor, and sheltered in the ark—then
cane the end!
May it not be so now? What does God care
for the palaces of the East, the golden mountains,
and the coral-beds of the West, and the institu
tions by which man nurtures his pride and revels
in luxury, and-sets himself . "above the stars of
God I" What cares he for liberty, and education,
and commerce, and statesmanship, and wealth, if
they do not contribute to lift the heart and'mind
to Heaven?
He will cause all these to work together for
his church—his true people,—and when they have
done their work, down goes the whole machinery
into the dust. Just as men take down the stay
ing, ‘when the tower is finished, or the grand*dome
swells. out in wondrous proportions to the' eye.
Shall we mistake the staying , for the manikin ?
Shall we look with tears and terror at the pins
_which are dropping from the scaffolding, when the
temple is rocking to its foundations
God has a work yet to accomplish for his church
in Italy, in India, in Russia, in Britain, and
France, and America. And he is doing it by asi
tation and conflict. There must be disintegration
before there can be re-construction. The church
is to be taken out of her bad involvements and
affinities—separated from all brotherhood with sin,
social and national. To do this, there are battles
and upheavings of mind; the engulfing of nationa
lities; the re-constructing. of States. God will
destroy all our earthly confidences, perhaps even
break us into separate, lics, or, in his anger,
giving us monarchsii e be no other way by
which to humble our pride"' *chyle and cure our
boasting, our luxury, our ession.
He will let,our countr so long as he can
make it a nursery for the c by all the ways
that enter into his sublime !sbandry. He en
dures the tares, if there be ^r, but when the
wheat is ripe, he will gathe I—the one for
the garner, the other for the,fire.
We would have union, if May; without the
sacrifice of -truth and right; kit we .must take
what God shall give us, if he sees it needful to
crush our idol.
Our country lives because God has a church in
it! and so long as be can get out of its institu
tions, its commerce, its statesmanship, its wealth,
its mind, that which shall enrich his vineyard,
cause its clusters to grow and ripen, be will spare
the country, but no longer.
See, then, the solemn duty of man! -Feel the
stupendous mission of every citizen and every in
stitution. All shall come to an end, and shall
end in disaster, that is not capable of mingling
harmoniously with the kingdom of Christ.
"Talk no more so exceeding proudly; let not
arroc , ancy come out of your mouth; for the Lord
is a of knowledge, and by him actions are
weighed. The Lord killeth, and he maketh alive.
He bringeth down to.the ground, and bringeth up!
He raiseth up the poor out of the dust, and lifteth
the beggar from the dunghill, to set them among
princes, and to make them inherit the throne of
glory. For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's,
and he bath set the world upon them. By strength
shall no man prevail! The Lord shall judge the
ends of the earth, he shall exalt the horn of his
anointed! The very heavens shall be rolled to
.
gether as a scroll, and the elements shall melt with
fervent heat." Shall the great Proprietor hesitate,
when his time is come, to wither, a nation from
the earth?•
IL Our text is suggestive of the Divine pa
tience toward man.
What has been the motive mainly lying at the
foundation, of human governments and human
achievements?" Undoubtedly pride, tyranny, self
ishness, in some form. The origin of our own
country is an exception; but the, history of na
tions—onr own as well as others—is one of crime.
GOd forgotten, warfare encouraged, man oppresSed,
wealth and ,prowess worshipped, power employed
to suppress mind, to quench high and holy desire;
to keep down the true church; to rule, if not an
nihilate, Christianity; and has not nominal Chris:
tianity fawned before the state ? bowed to human
opinion? flattered pride and power? and brawled
after a royal smile ?
And does it not speak for the wondrous patience
of God, thA nations live so long? That thrones
do-not sooner crumble r and discord and crime rend
to fragments confederated statdp ? This is what, we
:ought.now. to e, sq.:. of...e;onfliet
that, are dashing over` theglobe: , Goeir patiencC
has been too long and too deeply tried. He is
now mercifully giving the world—giving us—
warning. He will not bear with us as he did with
those ;hose ignorance he once winked at. Our
light, and privilege, and discipline, have been too
great for longer indulgence. Now he command
eth all men everywhere, in all forms of social and
civil life, in all stages of guilt, to repent!
MONEY
OR, THE AINSWORTHS
We print from the sheets of the Prize Book of
our Publication Committee "Money," just issued,
a chapter which will give an idea of the style of the
book. Told without pretension, the story yet shows
a fine power of description and a keen analysis of
character. Harry, the oldest boy, illustrates the
generous spendthrift; Paul, the second, the too
eager lover of money; Bertie, the youngest, the
happy class who know the true value and use of
that agent of good and ill—Money.
" Come„boys, don't be late at Sunday-school
this morning. Get your hats; for it is quite time
you had started."
Mrs. Ainsworth spoke anxiously, and as if she
felt worried. It was Mrs. Ainsworth's misfortune
to be worried and anxious about something nearly
all the time, and her children's to have become so
accustomed to this tone of voice that it fliled to
influence them as it should have done. Bertie
lingered at Netta's door to say a few more words
to her. Paul went on studying the catechism
question, which, with his other Sabbath-school
lessons, he had neglected until the very last mo
ment; and Harry was off somewhere out of hear
ing, no one knew exactly where : it was exceed
i9gly difficult to keep regularly posted as to Harry's
whereabouts. Again their mother raised her voice,
even more anxiously than before :
" Boys, don't you hear me tell you that it is time
to go to Sunday-school?"
"Good-by, Nettie," said Bertie, hurriedly; and
in another minute he was standing in the hall, cap
and books in hand, ready to start.
Paul moved slowly toward him, with his cater
Chism still open, studying a'he went. He closed
it quickly, however, as an important recollection
suddenly occurred to him.
" Maher," he said, c‘ you know that this is the,
day when you give us our missionarykmoney."
" Oh, yes," she returned: "I have not forgotten.
The money is safe in my pocket, ready for you.
But where is Harry?"
"I'll look for him, mother," said Bertie.
The offer was scarcely made when Harry ap.
peared. There was no difficulty now in knowing
where he had been; for he bad both hands filled
with egos, and his clothes were plentifully sprinkled
over with dust and small pieces of straw. .Harry
was very fond of eggs, and was generally successful
in finding them. .
" Dear me,, Harry!" exclaimed his mother:
"what have you been doing in the barn this
morning?"
" Finding eggs, mother," he replied: "don't you
see bow many?"
"I do wish you had let them stay quietly where
they were a little longer," she said, complainingly:
"there was no such great scarcity of eggs in the
house that you should ruin your best clothes to
find those. You don't look fit to be seen now any
where, much less at church and Sunday-school."
Harry laid down the eggs carefully upon the
hall-table, and, for the first time, began to take an
observation of his dress, which Bertie had already
commenced brushing vigorously 'with a small
clothes-wisp that was kept hanging in the hall for
general use. Paul, in the mean time, took upon
himself the office of distributing the three half
dimes—their monthly allowiwce of missionary
money—which their mother had taken from her
pocket. Mrs. Ainsworth assisted Bertie in his
efforts to free his brother from the straw and dust;
and when the process was finished to her entire
satisfaction, the three boys started for Sunday
school.
" I am very sorry that I did not remember the
missionary-box before I spent my two-and-a-half
VOL. V.—NO.. I.7.—Whole o. 234.
gold-piece," said Harry while they were on their
way. Mr. Martin told us so much about the poor
Sunday-school children in the Wes; last Sunday,
that I wanted to be rich purposely so that I could
buy a whole library for them; and yet, when I had
money in my hands, I forgot all about them until
after it was all gone. It is really too bad!"
"It is just like, you, Harry, to spend your money
foolishly, and then be sorry when it is too late,"
said Paul, reprovingly.
"I am only sorry that I spent my money be
cause I would like to help to buy a library for the
poor people who cannot buy one for themselves,"
urged Harry. Then, turning to Bertie, he added,
" I dare say you have brought some of your own
money with you to-day."
" Yes," •replied Bertie: "I have one dollar,—
a half-dollar for each of the boxes."
"That is entirely too much for you to give,
Beale," said Paul, with the air of one who knew
what he was saying.
"No, it is not," Bertie answered, quite as deci
dedly : "I took time to think about it, and talked
it over with Nettaiund neither of us thought it
too much. I want to give a dollar between the two
boxes."
" Well, I am sure I would be very glad if I had
that much to give myself this morning," said Harry;
" but I have not got it, andi am sorry; and it is
too late to do any good."
"You always put me in mind of an old. proverb,
Harry," said Paul.
What old proverb ?" inquired Harry.
"A fool and his money are soon parted," re
joined Paul, dodging his head quickly to avoid the
blow, which Harry showed. some inclination to be
stow upon him.
"You had better take care how you quote your
'old proverbs to me another time," said Barry, with
some difficulty restraining his hy3d. "If lam a
fool in spending money, you are a miser in saving
it,—which is .a great deal worse, I think. I would
not use the mean ways to get money which you do,
to be the richest man in the world. And you had
better take good care not to try me too far, or I'll
tell father all about some of your tricks."
Paul was about to retort by calling him `tell-tale;"
but, upon second thought, he concluded it would
be wisest to profit by the warning, and aggavate
him no further.
"You have no right to say such thin g s to Harry.
He is very generous to you When he does spend
his money, 7 ' said Bertie. And, putting his hand
affectionately through Harry's arm the two walked
quietly on in advance of Paul, leaving him to his
own reflections. These turned upon a topic sug
gested by his brother's conversation,—the
mis
sionary collection,—and a wicked thought suddenly
occurred to him. Suppose, instead of putting the
money which his mother gave him in the box, he
should add it to what he should save in the next
few months, and let it go toward making up ano
ther five dollars. Not that he bad any intention
of cheating the missionary fund in the end; for
that would be stealing; and he was not a thief.
No: but he would save up closely and invest until
he had got fifty dollars, - and then be would com
mence drawing interest, , _and ,a portion of this
should be devoted to paying back, what he should
borrow from the missionary box. It would only
be borrowed to be repaid at a certain time.
This reasoning was all as false as it was wicked,
and Paul knew it very well; for conscience was
striving . to raise her voice of warning in opposition
to it all the time; but he resolutely closed his ears
and refused to hear. His only desire now was to
gratify his covetous inclinatiOns. "They that will
be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and
into many foolish , and hurtful bists, which drown
men in destruction and perdition. For the love
of money is the root of all evil, which while some
have coveted after, they have erred from the faith,
and pierced themselves through with many sor
rows.'
Paul knew his lessons : it was an uncommonly
rare thing for him not to know them. He was a
quick, studious boy, and frequently received marks
of approbation from his teachers for this; and, being
naturally ambitous, he lyas very careful to use every
effort—as far as outward behavior was concerned—
to retain their good opinion. The missionary box
was made of stiff card, having a slit cut in the lid,
through which the various donations of the pupils
were slipped. The boys were all anxious to be
allowed the privilege of passing it around the class;
but on this day Paul being particularly earnest,
the teacher decided in . his favor. This afforded
him a better opportunity of evading suspicion.
Upon taking the box, he hurriedly performed the
operation of appearing to take something from his
pocket and then placing his closed fingers over the
opening, as if for the purpose of dropping it in;
while in reality the half-dime, which his mother
had merely intrusted to his care, remained still
undisturbed in his possession. The deception was
adroitly practised, and no human eye saw the
transaction: yet it was not hidden from the most
important witness: the great Judge saw it all.
"The Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him ac
tions are weighed!' " The Lord seeth not as man
seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance,
but the Lord looketh upon the heart." When it
was all over, the box emptied, and its contents
safely deposited in the teacher's 'hands without any
annoying questions having been asked, Paul con
gratulated, himself upon having entirely escaped de
tection. He forgot the plain truth, "Thou, God,
seest me," inscribed upon one of the large cards
which hung upon the wall of the very room where
be was then sitting. Like the foolish bird who in
shutting his own eyes thinks to elude those of his
pursuers, so be endeavored to persuade himself tha t
his guilt was unknown because he refused to look
at it himself.
The three boys went up into the church and en
tered the pew together, Paul bearing in his heart
the uneasy consciousness which must always attend
the sinner. The prayer and hymn were scarcely
heard nor the chapter that followed, until the mi
nister in the course of his reading repeated, with
solemn emphasis, these questions:" Will a snan
rob God? Yet ye have robbed me. But ye say,
Wherein have we robbed thee? In tithes and of
ferings. Ye are cursed with a curse • for ye have
robbed me:" He listened to these fearful words
with horrorstricken conscience, as if they had
been: meant for his ear alone, and pondered upon
them; missing all that intervened until the closing
of the chapter :—"Then shall ye return, and
discern between the righteous and the wicked, be
tween him that serveth God and him that serveth
hioi , not." There was a wide distinction between
these two classes, he knew; nor had he any diffi
culty in understanding to which he himself be
longed. This uneasiness clung to him through
the whole church-service, and followed him to his
home.
It is wonderful how easily the light from a text
of Scripture can dissipate all the mists which a de
ceitful heart by its false reasoning may gather
around a sinful action, exposing it to view in all
its hideousness, that we may see it just as it is.
The keeping back of the half-dime was no longer a
mere act of borrowing, as he bad vainly striven to
convince his better judgment. It was a theft,—
a plain, wicked theft. There was only one safe
way of settling the matter. "If we confess our
sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins,
and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." But
Paul was not ready to do this. His conscience re
proved him for having done wrong, warning him
that it was all known to the Lord, and his own
selfishness tortured him with fears lest his fellow
men should find it out; but he had no true sorrow
for having sinned, nor hatred of his wickedness as
committed against the holy God, nor any real db
'sire to forsake it. His chief anxiety now was to
hide it from others: the confession of it would not
in any way contribute toward relieving his fears.