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*