GENESEE EVANGELIST—WhoIe No. 792. SONG OF THE FOBGE. dang, clang! the massive anvils ring* Clang, okng! a hundred hammers swing j Like the tb under-rattle of a tropic sky The mighty blows Btill multiply; Clang, clang 1 Say, brothers of the dusky brow, What are your strong anns forgiqg now? Clang, clang 1 we forge the coulter now— Tbe coulter of the kindly l plough;' Sweet Mary, Mother, bless oar toil; May its broad furrow still unbind To genial rains, to sun and wind, The most benignant soil. Clang, clattg 1 <iur own coulter’s course shall be On many a sweet atid sheltered lea, By many a streamlet's silver tide, Amidst the song of the morning birds, Amidst the low of the sauntering herds, Amidst Boft breezes which do stray, Through woodbine hedges and sweet May, Along the green hill’s side. When regal autumn’s bounteous hand, With wide-spread glory clothes the land; When to the valleys, worn the brow Of each resplendent slope is rolled A ruddy sea of living grid; We bless—we bless the Plough. Clang, olangl again, my mates, what glows Beneath the hammer’s potent blows? CUnk, clankl we forge the Giant Chain Which bearß the gallant vessel's strain 'Midst stormy winds and adverse tides j Secured by this the good ship braves The rocky roadstead and the waves Which thunder on her sides. Anxious no more, the merchant sees The mist drive dork before the breeze, The storm-oloud'on the hill; Calmly he rests, though far away In boisterous times his vessel lay, Reliant on our skill. Say, on wbat sands these links shall sleep, Fathoms beneath tbe solemn deep ! By Afric’s pestilential Bhore— By many an iceberg, lone and hoar— By many a palmy western isle, Basking in spring’s perpetual smile— By stormy Labrador? , Say, shall they feel the vessel reel. When to the battery's deadly peal The crushing broadside makes reply! Or else, as at the glorious Nile, Hold grappling ships, that strive the while For death or victory?. Hurrah! Cling, clang! once more, what glows, Dark brothers of the forge, beneath The iron tempest of your blows, The furnace's red breath? . Cling, clang! a burning torrent, dear And brilliant, of bright'sparks is poured Around and up in the dusky air, As our hammers forge the Sword. The sword!—a name of dread; yet when Upon the freeman’s thigh His bound, While for his altar and bis hearth, While for the land that gave him birth, The war-drums roll, the trumpets sound. How sacred is it then! Whenever for the truth and sight It flashes in the van of light; Whether in some wild mountain pass, As that where fell Leonidas; Or on some sterile plain and stern, A Marston or a Bannockburn: Or mid fierce crags and bursting rills, The Switzer's Alps, gray Tyrol’s hills; Or, as when sunk the Armada’s pride, It gleams above the stormy tide; Still, still, whene’er the battle-ward lii Liberty—when men do stand Forjnstiee and their native land, Then Heaven bless the Sword. Blackwood's Magazine. €o#nesjti>n&sttce. THE ESSENTIAL ELEMENT OF A MIS SIONARY SPIRIT. jtohn nr. 16. This element is not any feeling of a kindred nature to romance or poetry. It is not a wish to become a party to novel and interesting adventure, such as sometimes occurs in the experience of the missionary in foreign lands. It is qot a desire to travel and visit foreign countries, or perfect an ac quaintance with foreign customs, or foreign litera ture, or foreign languages. It is not a longing to attain any selfish interest, or to gratify any selfish desire whatever. Some of these things are the necessary conco mitants, or the natural and incidental results of a successful prosecution of the missionary enter prise, but they do not form in the least degree the essential element of the missionary spirit. That element is love for the trials of perilling mew. It was love which prompted God to originate and execute the plan of sending his only Son into the world. The Scriptures inform us that 11 God, so loved the world ” as to provide means for saving those of its inhabitants who should comply with its necessary conditions. It was lave for the hu man race which prompted Jesus to leave heaven and come to earth; and it was love which led him to endure the insults, and ingratitude, and inju ries whioh men heaped upon him, and at length suffer and meekly die in their behalf, after a la borious and self-denying life. And it is love for the souls of men whioh should prompt the Chris tian to become a missionary to them. It is love oaly which can sustain him amid the toils and pri vations incidental to a missionary life in a pagan hud, and which can stimulate, him to continued «nd untiring efforts for the good of the vile, and the superstitious, and the Idolatrous. His love for perishing souls in order to he per manent in its character, should be pure in its na ture. It must be free from all selfish, degrading, and unworthy ingredients. It should be deep, siacere, genuine. ‘ It must be active and self-sa erifieing, or it will not be sueb in kind as , moved to send His Son into the world, or such as the Sou exhibited during bis residence among men. Remark Ist. How important in view of these thoughts, that missionary candidates and all who 4,8 looking forward to the missionary life, should «“!% and thoroughly examine their own hearts, ascertain whether they have the essential ele ®e»t of a missionary spirit! How important that * should impartially slff their feelings and analyze their motives and desires, and,having de ucted the motive of curiosity, the desire for Ira l' 4n d visiting in, foreign climes, the \f!sh to «srn, by personal observation and study, the cus- w^*c h prevail in foreign lands, &e., to find veosining in their hearts a fervent and pro *hti hme for souls perishing for want of a Sa *' Happy fq r them, happy for the heathen a W| * *hom they shall go, and happy for their i* l ' BB ' oo firid) H they find such filling and overflowing their hearts and ever pervading their lives. Without it they may Dot expert to be uniformly contented, or highly use ful in the land of their adoption. After the ex citements of bidding farewell to friends and'native country shall have passed away, such love by the blessing of (rod, will go far towards sustaining them amid the discouragements and v dangers of a life in a barbarous and heathen country. Remark 2d. If the missionary candidate should be thus careful to have such love before he goes to foreign lands, and if the missionary himself should ever exhibit such love in his intercourse with the heathen, is it not also eminently desirable that the friends of missions living in Christian countries, should possess the same for perish ing souls, as the prevailing motive' of their hearts in all they do in connexion with the missionary cause? Should not the Christians who remain at home, as well as those who go abroad, have the essential element of the missionary spirit in order to be like God and like Jesus? It is apprehended that many are influenced to contribute of their pecuniary means to advance the cause 'of missions, to a great extent, by a knowledge that the church expects them to contribute, or because they have acquired the habit of contributing, or because it is deemed generous and respectable, or because they are deeply affected by some eloquent and stirring appeal, or because of some other reason whioh does not pre-suppose and imply the exist ence in their hearts of an ardent and self-denying desire for the salvation of the heathen. And doubtless some Christians attend missionary meet ings or the monthly concert, more to hear the re cent news from the foreign field, or an address by some one who has himself labored in the canse abroad, than from any special and deep-felt inte rest in the conversion of the world; or they en gage in prayer for the success of missions, seem ingly more through the influence of habit, or in the imitation of the example of others, than be cause they have an earnest and absorbing love for the souls still shrouded in the darkness of pagan ism. And very many professing Christians ap pear to have neither part nor lot in the missionary enterprise! Now it is an acknowledged duty, equally binding on all Christians, to be like their heavenly Father and like their elder Brother. How important, then, that they should all strive; to attain unto that burning and self-denyiDg love for the salvation of men in all the earth, which God and Jesus have, and which constitutes the es sential element of the missionary spirit—-a love for souls whioh will naturally and necessarily develop’ itself in sincere and ardent prayer, and in some appropriate and earnest efforts for the conversion of the world. . China. For the American Presbyterian. ONE POSITION—ABSOLUTE AND COM PARATIVE. I speak of our branch of the Presbyterian Church. There is, for a church, one quality of high worth, either for the pleasantness of members in their relation to the body, for work ing efficiency, or for the cultivation of gracious exercises. It is that sameness of sentiment, purpose, and spirit, which takes the name of homogeneousness. In this quality, I believe that, through, the favor of our covenant Head, we now excel all onr own past history, and all the other great Christian bodies of our country. I look back through more than a quarter of a century of participation in ecclesiastical affairs, and I have never seen it so nearly perfect among ourselves as now. And I see no other denomi nation so well through with internal conflicts respecting matters of faith, polity, or public ethics. I look at our press—-every periodical or paper which can now, in any fair sense, be ac counted ours. No one snstains the interests of a faction; no one represents a party in the church. No one could do it, for we have no parties. All now come to ns, full of unity of purpose, walking by the same rule, and minding the same thing. We read in them only what inspires the best faith in our working system, and the mbst generous confidence in the men who are set to work that system. I look at our General Assemblies. They dis cuss the most momentous issues now before us, without any snrgings of party excitement, or any exhibition of feeling which imperils a cor dial acquiescence in the result. No lobbies gather round them, and no evening caucus settles the tactics of the morrow. Our Assemblies now come about as near to a realization of the holy ideal of a supreme ecclesiastical judicatory on earth, representing only the whole church, and moving on with a singleness of aim for the ex tension of the Redeemer's kingdom, as I expect any such body to do until sin has left the world. ■ I look at the state of feeling in our church, now fast growing into unity respecting the great moral questions of the day. Oar papers and our pulpits are conservative, not mulishly so, but in sach a measure as consists with the great law of moral progress which binds the men of God to the task of regenerating the state of so ciety over the globe. On subjects which are now deeply agitating the Christian world, they generally speak In thoughtful, manly, and un mistakable utterance, obedient to the truest moral impulses. Our Assembly makes its de liverance without any acrimonious debate, and nnder no threat of revolt. I extend the same view into every field of ec clesiastical operation in onr hands —onr Per manent Committees, onr seminaries, and what ever else our church works through instrumen talities of its own creation, or under its own patronage. I know not where a single ripple of disunion stirs the surface, or a single strife modifies the character which I have claimed on our behalf, of a homogeneous church. We are the more bound to recognise the loving-kindness of God in this, because it is a condition which none too freely abounds in the churches of our country. The Episcopal Church has, for long years, maintained a nnity of or gaization, under the, absence of almost every thing else which belongs to the idea of oneness.' Its papers, its seminaries, and some of its bene volent enterprises, sail under party and they often mount the belligerent as well as party flag. The Conference of the Methodist Church feel theorising swell of an excitement on the sub ject of representation* which bodes no peace until the ministry snbmite to a surrender of its PHILADELPHIA, TIIU supreme control, or the storm spends its fury in some more violent result. Our Old School brethren have, within themselves a large ele ment, lay and clerical, who, for years, silently fretted under the dictation—whether real or imaginary, I know not what—of Boards and administrations; and now, in two. or three of thejr General Assemblies, this feeling has, passed from the stage, of muttering into open expression. may add the fact, that the present crisis in the country has become to all these mentioned, and to some other great religions bodies, their own crisis. The late action of the Old School General Assembly on the. state, of the country—an action of only passable intre pidity—was adopted at the close of a raspy de bate, and'in the face of the protest of many in fluential members,' North as well as South. At this moment it is producing the expected effect Abruption; and that chpreh now presents, a spectacle of discord, equal to any thing which preceded the events of 1837. . Let me, however, say, in hearty justice to that chnrch, that while I have characterized its late action as one of only passable, intrepidity, I regard the conception of that action, and the pursuit of it to a triumphant vote, as, under all the circumstances, intrepid and nobly so. Fur ther, I expect that its influence for the future health of that hody will be mnch higher t]ian it would have been, had it met with no opposi tion from influential quarters. The opposition, to a great extent, came, from what has long been felt as the dominating power of the church, and the point was finally carried, in the face of that power. For the first time, in long years, an in dependence of that powe ( r,wes successfully as serted. Men who live in the, past were.lpft in the past, and the men of progress stepped boldly to the helm, and put the ship before the breeze. We now look for better times for that chnrch, and none more heartily than this writer, will congratulate them, when this hope is realized. Still there is no disguising the probability that the Old School Presbyterian Church, as well as others which have been referred to, must, for a while, to come, be the home of conflicting ele ments, and the scene of some earnest strifes. They all have just the constituency, and are in just the position which exposes them to the violent agitation of the times. Lasting aliena tions are inevitable, and perils reaching even to disruption, stare each of them in the face. Beturning to the present homogeneous cha racter of onr chnrch, I am the more impressed with its reality, and the prospect, of its endu rance, from the fact that, under God, we have ourselves wrought it out. Step by step we have made our way to it. It is the: outgrowth of one of tbe, most exciting and active ecclesiastical histories, which this continent has produced, and the culminating of experiences which have all along heen * signalized ,by leading providences. We approached, it through “openings of the Lord.” We labored long and anxiously, some times in darkness, and often in doubt, until God himself revealed to,ns, through our trials and toils, the true position which he would have ns occupy in the great Christian field. Experience has been, our school, and , God onr teacher. Thus reduced to order from the chaos in which the events of 1837 left us, it is not strange that we should feel peculiar satisfaction in the great sameness of mind and spirit which now reigns, in onr church; in the grqat sympathy with the church as such, which,*at the present moment, is felt by our ministry and membership; and in the, prospect which facts just named afford, that all this is to remain enduring. There is, however, one indispensable condi tion to the permanence of this Divine favor humble and whole-hearted faithfulness. The in ternal peace of a thriftless church, is but the quiet of a grave-yard. A. glorious mission is now in our hands. It is a mission which none hut a living, praying, giving, and every way consecrated church can fulfil. In. exact pro portion as we fulfil it, we may know that ours is a living unity, wrought within ns by the Holy Ghost, and kept by His guardianship and love - Oak. ILLUSTRATIONS OF SCRIPTURE. NO. hi.—gen. xxii. 17. “ Thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies.” Very few of those who live, even in willed ci ties, at the present day, are aware of the import ance attached to the. “gate ” of ancient cities. It was customary to assemble around the gate especially in the evening. The merchants or traders who dealt with outside purchasers, the farmer who cultivated the neighboring fields, the mechanic who visited the other place for work or 1 the forests for material; if he.returned at all, did so near evening or about sunset. In some oriental towns, the gates are not closed at sunset precisely, but remain open for an hour after, and in Malta I have never been anxious to hasten my approach to Valetta before midnight, when on a visit to the country. But generally near sunset, and also at sunrise, a little company may always be seen at the gate. Hence plans are formed, bargains made, and anciently many important offices were per formed, and deeds, transacted “in the gate.” It was the place of meeting for, private business, of assembling for public duties, in earlier centuries than in later. The passage referred to above, (Gen. xxii. 17) is the first instance in Scripture of the significant meaning of the word. To pos sess the gate was to hold- all authority over every transaction in that town to which the gate afford ed entrance. In Gen. xxiii. 10,18, we have the earliest account of a bargain and sale at the gate of any city. There is still a similar importance attached to the word in modern times. The magnificent gate of Broosa, where was anciently the palace of the Sultan, afforded among the Turks a noted place for Assembly. Here the Court of the Empire was held. It was called the B&b Humayfin, or sublime gate, and the name has been transferred to the Sultan himself, though now his seraglio or palace is at: Constantnople opposite the ancient Broosa. The Court of the Sultan, however, is the Sublime Porte or gate, properly speak ing,—and the decisions formerly having been announced as those .of the Sublime Porte, or those of “ the gate.” The word gate,Jjhriefore, anciently was a synonome for “ “autho rity ” and “ wisdom ;” and in this senss is to be understood in all those places where “gate” is, used in connections similar to.that of the passage, at the head of this paragraph. H. S. Belvidere, N. J- THE CHURCH OF THE ijFIIRJ GOD. From Dr. Mills’ very eMfcorate, able, and deep ly spiritual discourse, ah |etiring Moderator be fore the last General Assembly, just republished from the Presbyterian Quarterly. Review, we make the following extracts: THE CHURCH! The Church in which (tod lives must, by a ne cessity of nature, be an regressive and, militant Church. Life implies tht' capacity for growth. It has been defined as the power of seif-augmenta tion. Wherever it advances, it must come into conflict with, death, ahd wi&|'Wih&tever cau§es life.-! A Church, characterized God must sympathize in his purposesjand feelings, be jea lous of his honor, loyal to authority, and devoted to his interests. The truth he reveals, the law he enacts, the grace he proffers; the ends he .desires, the ordinances and institutions he establishes, and the instrumentalities by which he works, will be .precious in her sight, am [ she wUI, if need be, defend them with her blood.’ The,atheism or pan theism that theoretically br| practically denies his being and personality, the; infidelity that rejects his word, the skepticism .thajj Unsettles moral foun dations, the error that turnsj his truth into a lie, the philosophy, falsely so called, that undermines or adulterates his gospel, the ritualism that dis penses with the renewing an'd sanctifying power of the Holy Ghost, the idolatry of wealth, station, in tellect, and fashion, that usurps his place in the heart, and monopolizes of h.is house; the social arrangements and customs whiph super-' sede his law; the governments and institutions, con stitutional or absolute, monarchical or democratic, political or domestic, which interfere with his re quirements and the relations and duties he has established among men, together with every high thing that exalts itself against him, she will strive to -transform or uproot and ’destroy. The Church is not an institution of society, and cannot, if true to God, permit herself to be modified, directed, or controlled by it. Through, her,' God intends to transform society and all its institutions. Her Work is a warfare that is vigorous and successful in proportion to the strengh of. true life within her. May God have mercy on her, when she in dulges a temporizing and compromising 1 spirit, and sits down to be comfortable and respectable, to please every body, and make no trouble in such a world as this 1 OTIR HISTORY AS A SEPARATE BRANCH OF THE CHURCH. The first thirteen years of our corporate ex istence as a Church, was a period of comparative inactivity and inquiry as to the path of duty. Ten years ago, the attention of the General As sembly, meeting at Utica, was called in a direct manner to the necessity for an enlarged and sys tematic course of Church Extension. The call im mediately rallied many who strongly felt the ne cessity of such a measure. After a brief discus sion that year, the subject was referred to a com mittee, who presented an extended report to the succeeding Assembly at Washington. The ,pria-. ciple assumed in that rep(^S v was,r , “ that it fothe duty of the Church, in its organic capacity, to take full charge of the work of extending' the gospel in the limits assigned it, and to use such agencies, denominational or cooperative, ecclesias tical of voluntary, as are best adapted to accom plish that important end.” This principle was substantially, if not formally', adopted, and several specific measures adopted, which have been the forerunners of great practical results. A decade of years has passed since the, first proposal of the matter, ahd the General Assembly, after having met once on the Mississippi, once on the Ohio, thrice along the great lakes, once on the Potomac, twice on the [Delaware, and once on the Hudson, now comes hack to the region and the close vicinity of the place where it was first proposed, it is hoped to perfect it. During this period, we have established the Church Erection Fund of $lOO,OOO, and , dispensed a portion of it. with manifest benefit. We have set im opera tion. a Publication,Committee which, in the midst of difficulties, has accomplished much, and we halve secured the Presbyterian House. We have inaugurated a Permanent Committee for increasing the [ ministry, which has contributed to awaken a new interest in this subject, enlarged the number of candidates, and the means of their support, a,nd ■which, it is hoped, may be placet! by this'Assem bly in a position for still greater usefulness! We have come to a satisfactory understanding with the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Mis sions, as to the. management of our foreign missions. We haye organized a Church Extension Committee, to supplement the deficiencies of the American Home Missionary Society, and are at this session to consider a plan for taking onr home missionary work entirely intoour own hands. A greatideal has been apcqmplished, when it is considered ,that, the Assembly has met but once in each year, and that new arrangements and changes' cannot be rapidly made. We have had no Seadeta, in the accep tation in which the word is ordinarily used. We have followed perhaps too- slowly the leadings of Providence, and it is using no orthodox cant to say, that if the great Head jf the-Church had not been with us, vye should long since have been re duced to a very sad conditiin. Having obtaibed help of him, we not only continue till this tune, bat exhibit a numerical strength eqdil to that of ten years ago, though we hive lost 'about 15,000 members, and nearly.2Qo ministers, by secession, jn a body, on account of ouiimaintainiqg the con servative anti-slavery position, which our Church has held from her beginhirig; : §Dd-the withdrawal of a number more, who went dri from us; because they were not of us. j. g SOUTHERN PRESS Olf THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY. The Central Presbyterian says: The few Southern men who were prqsent were sueh only in name, or they could not hhye been.silent, when their countrymen were denounced as traitors. The speeches made by delegates from the Southern Presbyteries were a discredit to their authors and. show that they were unfit to represent the AT e ,"° nofc surprised to find such men m Philadelphia at this time. - I>res ty terkm sajs: It is a mourn ful fact that of the very few Southern men present, not one fairly represented his constituents; nbt one did justice to the glorious cause and principles for which the South -is now ready to battle “to tlm last of its breath and blood.’? There may have been one or two true men in the body, but they either remained silent (and how could they do this?) or wdhdrew from the-house during the Re bate. If Dr. Thornwell, or Dabney, or Ad-er or Palmer or Smyth had risen in the . Assembly and spoken the truth to that body, it would have ex posed them to insult from. many of the members and to injury from the mob outside. ! ’ > The Raleigh correspondent of’the North Caro lina Presbyterian, J. Mi A., whom we take to be the pastor of the Church in that city, the Rev. J. M. Atkinson, says in a, communication to that pal ppr,: *• The conduct of the representatives fromthe P ?e%teries was “ pitiful, ’twas wondroUs pmtul. We hope their eonstituehts— whether they can afford to send representatives to the 4 General Assembly or not—will deal with them on their.retqrn as tjiey deserve. If all Southern re- SDAY, JULY 18,1861. MILITANT. presentatives were of their stripe and caliber, we should think it a very extravagant outlay —to send them ! ,tb’ the General .Assembly at any price. Another correspondent,of the same .paper says: “'.The.sycophant spirit .displayed in .the , speeches of the. Southern commissioners who attended the Assembly is truly astonishing! Not a word was spoken by any of them on behalf of their brethren South of the “fatal, the. accursed Mason and Dixon’s line” Why did they not in the name of their. Master protest against taking the resolutions of Dr! Spring from the table? Oh, no; they were alarmed lest they should'be driven away from their Northern compatriots for the Union embalmed with; the blood of their'seeession brethren in the South. One , member from Tennessee said, that “ what brought him to Philadelphia, more than any .thing else, was his desire to saye the Church!” If the' church has ho other Saviour than ouc Ten nessee brother, -I fear- for her existence for any length of time. The Church was protected, supported before he was born, and shall be saved without -him hereafter. Another appeals tearfully. M> the cold sympathy of Dr, 5 Spring’s axem.en; cry-; irig,’“Do! hot drive iis way from you! • Do- hot’ oppress us!‘ Do not crush us with ’this burden!’’ And when he w4s pleading so feelinglyin onr he-, half, the. -Nqrth was: poymog her troops in thou-, sands to the. South to oppress, crush and subdue US. " 1 The speech of the Texan Commissioner was. very hyperbolical; his life would appear to be in: great jeopardy, whether he : will take as his resi-. dence North or ,South of ‘‘the fatal, the cursed Mason and Dixon’s line.” We would advise him for his preservation to provide himself forthwith, a ballooii where he may dwell in safety above the dread of being hanged.” THE GOOD NEVER DIE. FROM REV. DR. TODD’S SKETCH OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF THE DATE DR. HUMPHREY. . The Rev. Heman Humphrey was born at West-Simsbury, Hartford county, Connecticut, on the 26th of March, 1779. His father was oneof the many small farmers. scattered over New England, and from whom , many of our most valued characters have risen.’ His name was Solomon Humphrey, and that of his mother, Hannah Brown, previous to her mar riage. The father raised eleven children, all of' whom lived to,adult age. Both of his parents were pious, and early dedicated their children to God. They both lived to.a good old age, honest, humble, pious people, of that meek and quiet spirit which, in the sight of the Lord, is of great price. The father died at Barkhamstead, Conn., in 1834, aged eighty-one, and the mother several years earlier, aged sixty-six. When the boy, Heman, was about six years old, his father removed to Burlington, Conn., and it was in this small, retired place that he spent his youth, and where much of bis physical and mental character was formed. Here he wrought on the farm, enjoying only the advantages of the common district school, till qualified himself to be a teacher. In the winter of 1798-9 there was a revival of religion in Burlington, and there at the .age of twenty, the Spirit of God found him, and. led him to Christ. We'do , not know what were the peculiar exercises of his mind, but, as he once remarked that he was “converted into Calvinism,” and as his views of religious exper ri?nce were ever after clear and deep, and tho roughly Calyinistie, we have reason to think his religious'experience was a deep one; The ReV: Jonathan Miller was the minister at Burlington at that time. Dr. Humphrey always delighted to see and acknowledge the hand of God in his pro vidences. And on his death-bed he mentioned, that it was not till after ,this period, and not till after he had acquired much experience as a teach er, that the thought of obtaining a liberal educa tion ever entered his mind. Having engaged to labour for the summer, he was prevented by a spring freshet from crossing the river and meet ing his engagement, and that providence was the means of changing all the plans and the whole course of his life. He graduated at Yale College in 1805 in a class of forty-two. Among his classmates were Thomas H. Gallaudet, the father of teaching the blind in this country, and Rev. Dr. Spring, of New York the almost unrivalled preacher and pastor. After graduation he studied theology with the Rev. Asahel Hooker, of Goshen, Conn;, and was licensed, to preach, by the North Litchfield Asso ciation, at Salisbury, Conn., in Oeto.ber, 18Q6. The following spring, March 16, 1807, at the age of twenty-eight, he was ordained over the church in Fairfield, Conn. Here he laboured under many difficulties, but so judiciously and faithfully, for the space of ten years, that he was remembered among the first ministers of the State. At least one powerful revival eatne , upon his people, in which his labours were abundant and successful. He had to encounter what used to he called the “ Half-way” Covenant, ahd which under his -in fluence, was laid aside. Here, too, he commenced his labours in behalf of. the. temperance reforma r tion, of which, all through life, he was so strenu ous ah advocate, so consistent an example, and so successful a teacher. So early as 1812, he wrote an address to the churches on the subject of tem perance, which was adopted and published by his Association; and, on his return from Europe at a later day, he greatly aided this cause by an other effort. , He was married to Sophia Porter, April 20, 1807. She walks and feels the chief mourner , to day. They had ten children committed to them, of whpm six are living. Of these ten, three have been or are pastors, and two married pastors —all occupying most important positions. One is now a’distinguished Professor in a!theological SetcL nary, one a Member of>Congress, and all members of Christ’s Church. One of these young ministers TWd he most lovely—sleeps jn our cemetery, and by the side of his. dust we shall to-day lay the fa ther.''' ' ’ In 'November, 1817, he,was installed over the first church in Pittsfield, at which time the two churches, .which had,been separated in warm po litical times, were re-unitej. The wounds were outwardly healed, and all the broken bones were joined, and the bandages taken off, but they were still very tender, and few men could have so sue- : cessfnlly taken this place and made the union permanent, as did Mr. Humphrey. None but those on the ground can appreciate the difficulties so long-standing, so bitter, so apparently irre concilable, reaching the two churches, reaching families, neighborhoods, and covering the whole town—and yet, under his judicious management, the spirit of peace, took the place of discord, and all these troubles dropped away, as the wrappings of an Egyptian mummy all drop off if you let in the sun upon them. He remained here Six years and when I had the honour to take the position of pastor over this church here, I could feel his hand and see marks of that hand all over the town though nearly twenty years had elapsed since he left. During his ministry here there were two very powerful revivals in'his ehureh, one of which was a: wonder, such as was never witnessed here before. A great number was hopefully converted —some of whom, gray-headed men, are still alive, 'and are here to-day, with trembling step,’and crowded memory, and tearful eyes, to follow their spiritual father to his last resting-place. In October, 1823, he was inaugurated as Presi dent of Amherst College. The same year he was honoured-with the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Middlebury College. Many will remember with, what deep reluctance this people gave him up. The College was in its very infancy; It had graduated but; right scholars. It was without name, without funds, without build ings, without even an act of incorporation. .Many felt that the burden was too heavy, the difficulties too formidable to be undertaken. And probably, had all the trials and difficulties been foreseen, few would have dared to make the effort. No one, who has not been through the labour, can coneeive of the difficulties to be overcome. But this work —to raise up and establish a new College —one that must compete with the old institutions so long growing up —was to be the great work of his> life; and Mr. Humphrey threw himself into the work with, his whole soul. Year after year, time after time, saw him calmly asking the State to incorporate the College. The whole prejudices of the State had to be lived down or conquered. Hew men could or would have toiled on, year after year, as he did. : Slowly the walls went up, as did the walls ofJei'usale.m under Nehemiah; and af ter a toil of-twenty-two years—a toil that seldom has a parallel, and' without stopping an Hour, save once to hasten across the Atlantic when worn down and ready to perish—he came to the place where he must. stop. Loving labour more, than food, and loving his. College with the, love of a father, he saw that it was 'thevylil. of,Goci:that Ke should' now Jay down the burden and retire. It then seemed as -if he could never rally, and that he must die soon. What had he done? He. had gathered around him. a noble Faculty of teachers —he had raised new buildings as fast as needed —he had gathered around the College' the confi dence and the sympathy of the Christian commu nity—he had gathered funds and friends that would sustain the institution in full vigor-—he. had placed it among the brightest luminaries of the land—he had got it incorporated and made it to be respected—be had superintended the educa tion, and seen graduated under his own eye, 795 young men, sent out to leave their mark upon the world, of whom 430 he saw become ministers of the Gospel—-and of these, 84 are numbered as pastors in Massachusetts at this hour —and 39 were sent abroad as missionaries of the cross. Sixty-eight of these young ministers have passed away, and were on the other side of the river to welcome their beloved instructor. Some of them were bright and shining lights. He being,dead, yet liveth and speaketh through all these—and they, to tens of thousands—and onward and down ward th§ ; influences roll to the end of time. Wbat the results are, and will be in this world, no tongue can tell; nor will they cease forever. Toe hal lowed influences which have been impressed upon other minds and hearts, are so many cords of love and mercy, which remain to draw souls to Christ. And many a poor boy, and many a poor school master, will grow strong, and be lighted up in hope and courage, as he trips to prepare himself for usefulness, by knowing that the great and .the good Heman Humphrey was once a poor boy and a poor schoolmaster, urging his way up to one of the highest posts of usefulness in the lead! After leaving Amherst, worn down-and feeble, he came back to spend the sabbath of life in this community, where he was most warmly welcomed by a people who have' ever felt it an honour and a blessing to have him. reside among them. When the city of Edinburgh was about opening a .new cemetery, and it was known that Dr. Chalmers had taken a lot and would lay his dust in it, there was a great rush for lots, as if all felt that there would be a safety in having their bones laid near his. So we feel that it will be a rich legacy to our children that they can; walk through our beau tiful cemetery and point the finger and say; “There sleeps Dr. Humphrey!” The aged man commonly looks back and sees how much better former times were than these, so that what is new in the forms of vice must be worse than the old forms, and, what ,is new in goodness must be only ertor under a false name. Dr. Humphrey kept himself a breast of the age, was posted up in every department of humanity, was fresh in all that was moving among men, and never unwilling to adopt what was new, if it was good. There was nothing like fossil about his mind, or taste, or heart. And yet his moral per ceptions were so true that you might pour over him a load of theories and opinions, and he would, instantly pick out the true from the shams. Old men in Fairfield to this day will tell you how Mr. Humphrey used to visit the schools of that town, and when he saw little children sitting on benches without any backs to them, and so high that their little feet could not reach the floor, he insisted upon the nnheard-of thing of having the benches altered, and many a little Lack was saved its achings. His love to the children and to those just be ginning life was very strong. And it was affect ing to see the ageil man of 80, go into our town meeting and plead for a park and for trees, in be half off the childen too young to plead for them selves, and then to see, him go out aod superintend the setting out pf those trees. There are.hundreds of such trees now growing, under the shade of which those yet unborn will sit and walk who will never know whose hand planted them. His last stekness was an exhibition of one of the mysteries of our nature, when disease preys upon the nerves.with a power which ,no medical skill can control, and which seems to make the whole body a collection of diseased cords—not one of which can be quieted, till the body and intellect are overpowered—a state, most'painful to bear, and hardly less so to witness. For the most part,.the reason,was clouded; but even then, in the dark prison-house, his spirit was feeling after the pil lars of truth, and searching for her accustomed light. Samson, in. the prison-house, dark and dreary, is noble, even there. At one time, in the mazes ,of a beclouded intellect, tempted, as he thought, to apostatize, he told his 1 imaginary tempter: “No, 1 can not become a Jew!”; And as-the trial was crowding harder, and he felt that he was persecuted to turn Mohammedan, he said, > with, his oyrn emphatic , voice and manner, “No amount of suffering, mental or physical, will make me turn Mohamiriedan !” and then added—and in the circumstances of the case it was sublime— “l know in whom I have believed! I know that my Redeemer liyech! I stand upon, the rock of Ages!” ~ ",. ( '' ' ' " ■ _At another time, When a friend intimated to Him that his end was near,' 1 he’seemed to start up out of the lethafgy—the cloud at once lifted up, reason rallied to her throne; and for a few minutes, like the dying Jacob, he sat.pp, called for his wife and children to come around him, when lie gave ' to each a few words of love—more precious than jewels—arid sent; special message’s to absent chil dren and friends. It was! the sun’breaking out between,the evening spft, and beau tiful, In a few moments, he fell back," and the bright day-light was gone; anil whieia the spirit ! again became conscious, she was in uiielouded, everlasting day.’! When the hour bf dismissal ■ came, the angel of death walked the.roomjso softly • that his steps were not heard. Like, David of old, “he fell on sleep,” as on a pillow, and tie'only difference to him between sleep and death Was, that in the one case the bosom barely heaved, and in the other it was still, and the prophecy was fulfilled: “Thou shalt come, to thy grave in a full age, like as, a shock, of corn cometii in his sea- . s.on! " and the great prayer of the Redeemer was answered: “Father, I will that those whom then hast given me, be with me whgfe. Tam, Ihatthey tnay Behold my glory.”—TVte National Preacher for July. ' Embarrassments op the Sohthern-Metho- Dist Church.—The benevolent institutions of the Southern Methodist Episcopal Church; are in an exceedingly embarrassed condition. ' The presiding elders holding draffs against the Missionary Sm eiety have been notified that such could not be paid by the Treasurer, as the funds were all ex hausted- ; They were instructed ,to ary to raise collections wathin the,bounds of .their respective distpqts to meet them. , , ' ~!i- : : YOL. Y.—SO. 47. —WMc No. 264. A few years since, as Mr. Gallaudet was walk ing the streets of Hartford, there came running to him a poor boy, of very ordinary appearance, but whose fine intelligent eye fixed the attention of the gentleman, as the boy inquired— “ Sir, can you tell me of a-man who would like a boy to work for him and learn him to read ?” ..“Whose boy are you, and where do you live?” “I have no parents,” was the reply, “and have just run away from the 1 workhouse because they would not teach me to read.”: ' • The gentleman made, arrangements with the au thorities of the town, and they took the boy into his qwn family. There he learned to read. Nor was this all. He soon acquired'the' confidence of his new associates by faithfulness and honesty. He was’allowed to use his'.’friend’s library, and made rapid progress in the acquisition of know ledge. . It became necessary'after awhile that George should leave Mr. Gallaudet, and he became ap prenticed to a cabinet-maker im the neighborhood. There "the "same integrity jpon for'him the favor of his new associates. To gratify his inclination for study, his master had a little room furnished for him in the upper part of the shop, where he devoted his leisure time to bis favorite pursuits. Here he made large attainments in mathematics, in the French language, and other branches. Af ter being in this situation a few years, sitting at tea with the family one evening, he all at once re marked that he wanted to go to France. “Go to France!” said his master, surprised that the apparently contented and happy youth had thus suddenly become dissatisfied with Ms situa tion; “for what?” “Ask Mr. Gallaudet to tea to-morrow evening,” continued George, “ and I will explain.” His kind friend was invited accordingly. At tea time the apprentice presented himself with his manuscripts—in English and Erench—and ex plained his singular intention to go to France. “ In the time of Napoleon,” said he, “ a prize was offered by the French Government for the simplest rule of measuring plane surfaces, of what ever outline. The prize has never been awarded, and that method I have discovered.” He then demonstrated his problem, to,the sur prise and gratification of his friends, who imme diately furnished him with the means of defraying his expenses, and with letters of introduction to the Hon.'Lewis Cass, then our minister to the Court of France. He was introduced to Louis Philippe, and in the presence of the King, and nobles; and pleni potentiaries, the American youth demonstrated his problem, and received the plaudits of the court. He received, the prize, which he had clearly won, besides Eeveral presents from the king, ' He then took letters of introduction, and pro ceeded to the' Court off St. James, and took up a similar prize; offered by the Royal Society, and returned to the United States, Here he was pre paring to secure the benefits of his discovery by patent, when he received a letter from the Empe ror Nicholas himself, ohe of whose ministers had witnessed his demonstrations at London, inviting him to make ; his residence at. the Russian Court, and furnishing him with, ample means for his outfit. .He complied 1 with the invitation, repaired to St. Petersburg; ahd ; ib now Professor of Mathema tics in the Royal -'College, under the special pro tection of;the Autocrat of all: the Russias. And in regard to colors, we are far behind the ancients. - None of the colors in the Egyptian painting of thousands of years ago are. in the least faded, except, the green, The Tyrian purple of ,thg entombed city of Pompeii is as fresh to day as it was three thousand years ago. Some of the stueco, painted centuries before the Christian era, broken up ahd mixedj revealed.its original lustre. And yet we pity, the ignorance of the dark-skinned children of the ancient Egypt. The colors upon the walls of Nero’s Festal Vault are as fresh as if painted yesterday. ’So is the cheek of the Egyp tian prince who was contemporaneous with Solo mon, and Cleopatra, at whose feet Osesar laid the riches of his empire. And in regard; to metals.. The edges of the stones of the obelisks of Egypt, and of the ancient walls of Rome, are as sharp as if but hewn yester day. And the stones still remain so closely fitted, that their, seams, laid with mortar, cannot be pene trated with the edge, of a pen-knife. And their surfaceas exceedingly hard—so hard that when the French artists engraved two lines upon an obelisk brought from Egypt; they destroyed in the tedious task, many sets of the best tools which could be manufactured. And yet these ancient monuments are traced, all over with, inscriptions placed upon them in olden time. This with other facts of a striking character, proved that they were far more skilled in metals than we are. Quite recently it is recorded that, when an Ame rican; vessel was on the .shores off Africa, a son of that benighted region made, frpm an, iron hoop, a knife superior to any on'boayd of the vessel, and another a sword of 'Damascus excellence from a piece of iron. ! Fiction is very old. Scott had his counterparts two thousand years ago, A story is told of a warrior who had no. time to wait for the proper forging of his weapon,,but seizing it red-hot rede forward, but found to his surprise that the cold air had tempered Iris iron into an excellent steel weapon.' The tempermg'of ,steel, therefore, which was.new to us a century since, was old two thou sand years ago.. Ventilation is deemed a very modern art. But this is nol' the 1 Fact, for apertures; unquestionably made for the purpose of ventilation, are found in the Pyramid Tomb of Egypt. Yes, thousands of T e BP ago, the barbarous Fagans went so. far as to ventilate, their tombs, while we yet scarcely know how to ventilate our hoases. TOITAiRIANISM A FAILURE. Mr. Jlartineau, one of the most prominent Uni tarian* of England, makes the following confes sion:— ~ ‘ 1 :■ i ■; “l am constrained to say .that,neither my in tellectual preference ; npr { my moral admiration goes heartily yrith the Unitarian heroes, sects, or productions, of ahy age.' Ebionites, Ariana, So binians, all seem to me to contrast unfavorably with! their opponents, and to exhibit a type of thought and character far less worthy, on the whole, of. the true genius of Christianity. lam .conscious that my deepest obligations, as a learner ’from . others, are, 'in almost'every; department, to writers not of my own creed. In philosophy I have had to unlearn most that I had imbibed from my early text-books, and the authors in chief favor with them. In Biblical interpretation, I derive from Calvin and Whitby the help that fails me in Orel! and Belsham. In devotional literature and religious thought, I find nothing of ours, that does not pale before Augustine, Tauler, and, Pascal. And in the poetry of the Church it is the, Latin or German hymns, or the lines of Charles Wesley, or of Keble, that fasten on my memory and heart, and all else feel poor and cold. I cannot help this, and I can only say I am sure it is no perversity';, .and I believe the preference is founded in reason and nature, and is already widely spread among ns. A man's ‘ church ’ must be the home of whatever he most, deeply loves, trusts; admires, und reveres —or whatever most divinely expresses’ the essential of the Christian faith and-life; and:to be torn away from the eom pßny’Xhaye named, apd transferred to the ranks which comman.d a far'fain ter allegiance, is an un natural; and ’for tiie, an inadmissible fate.” GEORGE WILSON. Journal of Commerce, LOST ARTS. Wendell Phillips*
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers