(JENESEE EVANGELIST. —Whole No. 798. |§®d*2. “UNDER THE CIOUD AND THROUGH THE SEA." <?, moved they, when fake Pharaoh’s legion pressed, ‘ Chariots and horsemen following furiously,— sons of Old Israel, at their God a behest, “ Under the cloud and through the swelling sea. So passed the, fearless, where the parted wave, With oloven crest uprearing from the sand, — A solemn aisle before,—behind, a grave,— Boiled to the beckoning of Jehovah's hand. So led ho them, in desert marches grand, Bv toils sublime, with test of long delay, On, to the borders of that promised land Wherein their heritage of glory lay. And Jordon raged along his rooky bed. And Amorite spears flashed keen and fearfully! Still the same pathway must their footsteps tread, — Under the cloud and through the threatening sea. God works no otherwise. No mighty birth lkt comes by throes of mortal agony •. jjo twin-child among nations of the earth But flndeth baptism in a stormy sea. Sans of tbe saints who faced their Jordan-flood In fierce Atlantic’s unretreating wave,— Who by the Bed Sea of their glorious blood Beached to the freedom that your blood shall Bavel 0 countrymen! God’s day is not yet done 1 lie leaveth not his people utterly 1 Count it a covenant that he leads us on • Beneath the cloud and through the crimson seal Atlantia Monthly. THOUGHTS EOR THE PRAYER-MEETING. SLEW roll THE TROUBLED,—PS. IV. 8, When David was in trouble, and had left the holy city bare-headed and weeping, flying before Absa lom, his rebel son, he wrote his prayer and hope in a psalm. That psalm, as it is supposed, was the fourth in the book of Psalms. After calling over his affliotions and urging his prayer, notice what a change suddenly oomes upon him, as though his prayer was answered; and from the third verse he gradually approaches a bright and peaceful hope in this final verse; “I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep : for thou , Lord, only makeat me dwell in safety.” I have often felt, that herein there was an allusion worthy of special meditation, “Both i lay me down in peace and sleep,” says the Psalmist. Ah 1 how many in these trying times oan not find a place even to lie down in peace. And how many to-night who shall have a place to lie down, shall not sleep. How many anxious hearts—how many alarmed at the course business is taking with them—how many helplessly anticipating days when payments shall be due-how many anticipating departures and partings of near and loved ones—how many, as they lie upon soft beds to-night, have aching, throbbing temples, and heavy hearts, for the seeds of sorrow are widely scattered, and may swell and burst forth in their growth at any time; and how great a variety of fruits they hear I What a truth is found in that little word 11 only.” 11 Thou, Lord, only nmkest me dwell in safety.” “Thou only.” I once slept in bed with a friend whose mind was so. distressed, that .after allowing mo to sleep for an hour, he sprang out, and Walk ing up and down, exclaimed, that “ It was better for him to die now than to live till the sun arose.” What a night of anguish was that night, when dodo could comfort nor bring peace. u Thow mdy ’’ const bring peace, 11 for so he giveth his be loved sleep” Ps. oxxvii. 2. The writer has experienced days, when, in his wanderings in foreign parts, he dreaded the coming night, as with it oame fearfulness and watchfulness, and a painful contest between an almost irresisti-, He inclination to sleep, and a consciousness of ex treme danger, if sleep was permitted to overcome him for a minute. After travelling all day through the heat, and over the burning sand of the de s rt, how precious is the cool spot on some t rec overed oasis, ,and how soothing the calm greet ing of the breeze, and yet in that very place the traveller sleeps at his hazard, for hungry beasts have chosen that forest before him, and await the night and the going out of his little camp-fire to make sure their prey. “ Thou, Lord , only makest me to dwell in safety.” But there is mueh wake fulness from sources more painful than these, and David might have experienced something of the keen edge of that bitterness of sorrow, which every day cuts so deeply into the hearts of parents, when the long cherished hope is quenched in the base hearted conduct and ingratitude of those whom they hava oherished, and whose insults, and diso bedience, and neglects, they have covered and pal liated until forbearance becomes a sin and a pain., This was David’s case. He was leaving his home to be a pensioner upon the bounties of compara tive strangers at Mahanaim, in the hills beyond Jordan. That was a humiliating, a sorrowful, a heart-rending journey in view of the baseness and sacrilege of Absalom. David cries to God, and, although deliverance is delayed, God inspires his heart with the comfort, courage, and full eonfi deiiee, that dark and dismal and uncertain as the future was, God was nigh; the sun was just be yond the clouds; the Lord reigned, not David; and 'bus sustained, his poor, unquiet heart was en livened—yea even soothed to rest, ”2 will both ley me down in peace and sleep,’ 1 There ore many at the present who could gain uiueh comfort by considering this case. Whe- flier, as ’tis supposed, David wrote this psalm at 'he time of his departure into exile from the re bellion and treason of Absalom, or on some, other w;easion, it was written in view of some great s,j!r ow, which at .first made him deeply sad and ’ery earnest in prayer, until comfort came in the 'bought: God’s love Bhall conquer all obstacles and rience all wickedness, and wo will praise him for llis fxjioer and his love. H. S. tielvidere, If. J. PETITION OP A CHRISTIAN PEOPLE. hnJer this head, the Presbyterian of last week Cl ntairia the following excellent and well worded I ' lition, wbioh we trust may receive a multitude f, b signers among the Christians of the land. It "’l s 'hat “ it eomes from a source entitled to high I" 1 -'m,” and suggests that a number of copies of II struck off in different localities of the eouu* lr )')Wd that a special effort bo made to obtain ■'-hsttibers. ,i » 0 "is Excellency the President, Eominanclur-in-Chief of the Army and Navy of (he United States. ... i® petition of the subscribers, loyal citizens t j. t le United States, and heartily pledging all support to the national government, 1,1 mularjy in the present unhappy struggle with a rebellion most criminal and fearful, very respect fully showeth— That we are, in fact, a Christian people, be lieving obedience to God’s will, revealed in the Holy Scriptures, to be our sole security for his blessing; that our soldiers and sailors, go forth usually from Christian communities and homes, with at least strong religious convictions; that many of them are communicants in Christian churches; that our army and navy, therefore, are distinctively a Christian army and navy, and enti tled, in war as well as in peace, to Christian care and privileges; that experience has conclusively proved, that moral and religious improvement, and* a reasonable respect paid to conscientious convictions, always promote the loyalty and ef ficiency of the men engaged in warfare, while no thing can well demoralize and discourage them so thoroughly, as an apprehension that God’s fa vour has been forfeited by either themselves or their commanders; that men returning home, de bauched in a service characterized by vice and irreligion, ever prove a. bane to society; and that the Christian people of this land, in sending forth from their dwellings and churches those who are to fight the battles of the country, do therefore reasonably expect, as your petitioners do most ear nestly pray, that your Excellency will give care ful attention to the moral and religious interests of the Whole' army and navy under your command; and particularly— 1. That you-will adopt the roost stringent mea sures to banish, as far as possible, from our forces all temptation to intemperance or any other vice. 2. That you will employ your whole authority to secure the general appointment of chaplains, regularly ordained, and of good standing in their respective denominations; with a faithful dis charge of duty on their part, and all proper en couragement and independence in the same; and to insure to both officers and privates entire re ligious liberty, and the right of attending upon a ministry of their own choice. ■ 3. That you will issue such orders respecting parades, reviews, receptions, the admission of vi sitors, military services, and the giving of battles, as will, excepting in oases of absolute necessity, secure uninterrupted the rest and worship of the Sabbath, to none more important, for both body and soul, than to the soldier or sailor, and to him never more important than upon the eve of battle.- ; And your petitioners will ever pray, &c.” CHARACTERISTICS OF PRESBYTERIAN- Tbe next characteristic of Presbyterianism is spirituality. The beavenly-mindedness of Li vingston, of Melville, of Rutherford, is of a so lemn grandeur that almost dwarfs all other forms of piety. All spiritual emotion seems tame, beside the rapture of their devotion that flamed to, heaven, and the deep and awful so lemnity of their communion with God. Under other forms of Christianity, we see often a ten der pathos, an enthusiastic zeal; a devotion sometimes earnest, and sometimes devout.. We would not question the fitness of other systems to raise men above the carnal world. But when our very inmost soul does homage to the piety of any uninspired man, it is to such a one as he who brought five hundred men at once under conviction at the kirk of Shotts—or such a one as seeinedunable to speak the precious name of Jesus without an emotion so deep as to thrill his frame and moisten his eye. The severity Which stood against the povfer of an empire WaS the outward siguofa- fovefortho divine Redeemer, which combined the tenderness of a woman with the, reverence of a seraph. To the careless eye, Scotland may present nothing but rugged, mountains, with thistles bristling from their ravines. But the careful ahdjloving ob server will find, in the depths of these moun tains, clear gushing springs, pure and beautiful wild roses, the antlered deer.and the gray eagle, and, over all, the immeasurable vault of heaven, emblem of the eternity Which enshrines and sanctifies’ the slightest movement of our mortal state. It follows by an inexorable logic that such recognition of the sovereignty of God, and the infinite glory of God in Christ, should work to severity of morals and purity of life. It is the glory of Presbyterianism to be the scoff of the infidel, and the song of the drunkard. All vile men hate our Church; AH'licentious wits try their venom upon it. All demagogues find something to say against It-* AH who are under the sway of sensual passion, instinctively pass by on the other side. It was the discipline of Presbyterianism that drove Calvin from Ge neva, and perilled Knox in Scotland. It is the morality of Presbyterianism that makes the young, the gay, the worldly and self-indulgent, seek folds where entrance is easier,, and no grim ruling elders demand a life in accordance with the literal principles of God’s word. Within other pales, the historic, the artistic, the deco rous, the enthusiastic, may each find their key note, struck. In Presbyterianism the element that holds all and controls all, is the moral. It follows next that a true Presbyterian is re liable. They always belong to the heavy bat talions. Like Wellington’s squares, they can stand steadily not alone eight hours, but three score and ten years, against the cavalry of the aliens. A colonel going to these wars should ask for a regiment of such men as fought at Bannockburn, and defended Londonderry. A Presbyterian means what he says. His word is as good as his bond. If they unite in an en terprise with other men, they invariably bear the heaviest part of the burden, take on them the hardest part of the work, pay the heaviest part of the expense, and receive the least bene fit of all the partners. Hence of all men they least need combination with others. Of all men they are the most capable of self-reliance, under God. Presbyterianism, pure and simple, un perverted by worldly policy, is the eincerest form of human life, the most transparent me dium of human thought. If it has not the polish of other creeds, it can better be without ' it, than take with it the coldness of heart, and i the : deceit of soul .which render that polish an . offence to honest men. Presbyterianism is intellectual. It is the uni form testimony of history, civil and ecclesiasti cal. , We have seen that the Common Schools of Scotland preceded those of New England by three-qnarters of a century. They are the only efficient schools for the masses of the peo ple that have ever existed in the British Isie3.' (liven a Presbyterian church and a school-house is sure; grant a Presbytery and an academy is somewhere under its shadow; create a Synod and a college follows. Every Presbyterian mi nister reads at least three languages, besides his and the grand fanlt of Presbyterian preaching is, that it is too scholastic for the million, and too intellectual for the lambs of the flock. The theological points that rend a Presbyterian Church into two fragments, do not even come within the field of view of other men, and one of the prominent faults of Pres byterianism is, that it splits hairs until it is the victim of its own subtlety. Logic is its intel lectual life, and its system of the universe is so grand and all-embracing, that no mind can re ceive it without growing into a moral great ness, no heart can rest in it without becoming a'mirror of the Infinite. Its rude temples and humble manses are the homes of human thought, and from that training come forth the statesmen and the warriors of mankind. Presbyterianism is the home of liberty in the darkest hours of mankind. Its favorite form of PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY SEPTEMBER. 5,1861. human government is republicanism. It avoids, by natural instinct, democracy and monarchy. It is an organism based on constitutional free- lts testimonies in favor of civil freedom and liberty of conscience, are unequivocal; It confines its sympathies to no race of men. Be lieving that God has made of one blood all na tions, it advocates freedom for all mankind. Its testimony may be stifled for a time, but it ap pears again clear and explicit. Our, branch of the great Presbyterian family, at least, has not been faithless to these great truths, and we be lieve that any Presbyterian Church that is thus faithless for a time, must either give up its fundamental principles in doctrine and order, or be brought to carry them out to their legitimate consequences. Presbyterian Quarterly Review. VALIDITY OP ORDINANCES ADMINIS- TERED BY ROMISH PRIESTS The.validity of the sacraments when admi nistered by the Romish priesthood has become a practical question in the Irish Presbyterian Church. At the late- meeting of the General Assembly a discussion arose on the proposal to overture the question to Presbyteries. From the Banner of Ulster we quote the speech of Dr. Killed. Dr. Killen said he was exceedingly unwilling to trespass upon the attention of the house, but be felt that this was a vital point, affecting the interests of the Church very seriously, and could not therefore remain silent. The framers of the overture had not stated what they meant by a valid ordinance. Surely they would not have the Assembly to affirm that, under no circum stances, could a Romish priest perform any va lid official act. Marriage was an ordinance— a saered ordinance—and were they to affirm that a priest could not even celebrate a valid marriage ? If so, they might come into colli sion with the laws of the land, and he trusted the. Assembly would never thus commit itself. Prayer was a sacred ordinance, and would the Assembly say that under no circumstances a Romish priest could offer up a prayer which God would hear ? Preaching also was a sa cred ordinance, and when a Romish priest even taught the sound theology of Augustine, would they say that God would not bless such preach ing? Baptism also was a sacred ordinance, and its validity was not destroyed by the cha racter of its administrator. He had no doubt with regard to the teaching of the Confession of Faith. Its compilers were men of wisdom. It was known that, in point of fact, they held views and pursued a practice the reverse of that recommended in tlie overture, and it was not to be supposed that in a creed which they so care fully prepared they promulgated the very reverse of their known principles. The subject was not new. It had occupied the attention of Lu ther, Calvin, Knox and others, and the question as to Romish baptism had uniformly been de cided by them in its favor. The subject was brought under the notice of one of the earliest General Assemblies of the Church of Scotland,✓ where Kuox himself was present, and the deci sion was that baptism administered by a Romish priest should be recognised. Calvin had also discussed the subject -in the fourth book of his Institutes, and had pronounced the same ver dict. The same principle had been acted upon By the ministers of the (Jhnrch- of England ever Bioce the Reformation, as well as by tfirminw ters of the Church of Scotland Since the time of the Westminster Assembly. Dr. Barnett had referred to the Arminian Church as sanctioning a different usage, but were he more minutely acquainted with that community, he might not attach so much importance to its authority. The fact was, that many of the most eminent theologians in the Eastern Church had de nounced the Pope as Antichrist, and yet the Eastern Church itself was not a model of purity. Dr. Barnett also referred to a resolution of the Old School Assembly ofthe Presbyterian Church in America, but he had admitted that it was op posed—ll 3 voting for it, and 80 against it. It was well known that a. number of the best di vines in the Old School Assembly, including Dr. Hodge, of Princeton, —strenuously protested ftgainst the resolution, and Dr. Killen was dis posed to think that, had the votes on the occa sion, been weighed, not numbered, the result would have been different. (Hear, hear.) —The Old School Assembly had placed itself in a very awkward position by that decision. A case had recently come before them, in which a per son who bad received Romish baptism in infancy had become a convert to Protestantism, He; had been for years,in communion with an evan gelical Protestant church; but happening to re move to another part of the country where a congregation of the Old School was established, he found it convenient to apply for admission to its fellowship,; but could not be admitted ex cept he would consent to re-baptism., The Old School had thus placed itself in a very uncom fortable position, even in regard to the other Protestant Churches.* The Westminster Con fession of Faith clearly taught that the Church of Rooue was a portion of the. visible Church, for it asserts that the Pope, or. Antichrist, sits in the Church. What was here meant by the Church ? No one could say that it ineant the Protestant Church, for the Pope does not sit there; neither can it mean the Church Invisible, for the Westminster divines did not teach that the Pope was a member of the mystical body of Christ. The Church, must mean that portion of the visible Church which we call the Church of Rome, and that this is the meaning is appa rent from another part of the Confession where it is stated that the visible Church contains all who profess the true religion, together with their children. A question might' arise as to what was here meant by the true religion. It evi dently could not mean only that system of the ology taught in the Confession of Faith. That was Calvinism which Dr. Killen and Dr. Bar nett both held was in the highest sense the true religion. The compilers of the Confession obvi ously did not intend so to restrict the meaning of the expression, for they admitted that Armi nians constituted a portion of the visible Church, and professed, in a certain sense, the true reli gion. Any one by looking at the Westminster Directory for Church Government would see that the divines recognised the ordinations of the bisnops and archbishops of the Church of England, many of whom were at that time rank Arminians. These divines recognised the ordi nations of Archbishop Laud himself, who was not only an Arminian, but a half Papist, and it was quite clear that in their view persons re jecting the Calvinistic theology were members of the visible Church. (Hear, hear.) By the true religion in the Confession we were to un derstand, not Calvinism as opposed to Armini anism or Protestantism as opposed to Popery, but Christianity as opposed to Heathenism and all other false religions; and that this is the mean ing of the Confession is apparent further from another part of it, where it is stated that out of the visible Church there is no ordinary possibi lity of salvation. Protestant divines do not assert that in the Church of Rome salvation is absolutely impossible, for the Romish Church • holds several saving doctrines and acknowledges the inspiration of the Word of God. Aceord- ♦Father Chiniquy, and his colony of converts from the Roman Catholic Church, were received by the Old Sohool Church without baptism, in plain violation of the act of 1841. ing to the Confession, the Scriptures contain all things necessary to salvation, and though the Church of Borne does not onconrage the circu lation of the Bible, she possesses it. It is in the hands of many of her members, and so long as this is the case, it cannot m said that in that society there is ho ordinaryjpbssibility of salva tion; The Confession, therefore, clearly teaches that the Church of Borne .a portion of the visible Church. The samelConfession teacheß that to the visible Church pgrtains a ministry, and the priesthood is the recognised ministry of that portion of the visible Church which we call the Church of Borne.- ft is stated in the overture that the Romish priests derive, their authority from the Pope, bit this is true only in one sense, for the Pope rimself derives all his authority from that sei tion of the visible Church over which he pr sides. Were the clergy and people connecter - with him to with draw their countenance, he would at once be extinguished. The Romisl rpriesthood are re cognised as the lawful .minis try by all classes in that portion of the visible Clisr'ch to which they belong, and in so far are competent ttfadmihis ter divine ordinances. 1 It is observed that the Romish Church has coHfQp'ted'baptism per haps less than any other-Biyj.de institute. As tp the Eucharist, it has ta'kdnjaway one of the symbols, and misrepresented jhe other, saying that the wafer is the soul, body and divinity of Christ;'bat not so in regarded baptism; Here it has preserved the symbol! , Here it does not say that the ; wafer is MtheWthe blood or the Spirit of Christ, and here it Adheres to the. very formula prescribed by our 'Lord himself/bap tizing in the name of the father, and of the Son, and of the Holy and though it has added some superstitions appendages, so* have some Protestant Churches, with regard to the validity of whose baptism' there is no ques tion. Dr. Barnett had stated that the Pope is Antichrist, the Man of Sin, the Son of Perdi tion,and Dr. Killen was prepared to endorse all that had been stated oh the subject; but it did not, therefore, follow thfrt Romish baptism was invalid. Judas, too, was called the Son of Perdition, and, surely, no one would pretend to say that the ordinances administered by him were nail and void, for he was introduced into his : office by--oqp Lord liiuisfrlf. In the Old Testament we'find as strong statements respect ing the Church of Israel as he find in the New respecting the Church of Romfe. Thus the Lord addresses the and people of Israel, in the first chapter of Isaiah, as the rulers of So dom, and the people of-Gomorrah,: and yet /He still calls them His people, .and thus acknow ledges them as the visible Chureh. The Pope is a usurper, and yet many acts done under a usurper are recognised by a!constitutional go vernment, and though the priests are under the usurpation of the Pope, yet* in so far as they continue to administer, the ordinances of Christ, these ordinances are to be considered valid. A divine ordinance does not cease tb be a divine ordinance because administered by the function ary of a corrupt Church. Dr, Killen looks for ward confidently to the time? when the visions of the Westminster divines shall be realized,.and when Presbyterianism willpreyail oyer the three kingdoms; but, were such an overture as this to be adopted, his hopes would be blighted ; for, though a few Romish converts about Mo neymore, disturbed by the doubts and teaching, of his friend, Dr. Barnett, may' be induced to question, their baptism, thp.’fetire-'ir that they jhoaifl' gcaqraflftj of .Romish converts never ban be expected to submit to a repetition of-the rite, so that if the course now recommended be adopted, the As sembly will be only turning,the stream of con versions into the . channel of other denomina tions. (Hear, hear.) The true way of dealing with the Romanist is to admit the validity of his baptism, and to appeal to the administration of the ordinance as a.; reason why he: should desert the Pope. We should say to Roman ists:—“Wej&o not regard yon as mere hea thens, We consider you, at least in a certain sense, as Christian brethren;-you have not been baptized in the name of the Pope’; you are: not bound by your baptism to yield any allegiance to the Church, of Rome; but you are bound to obey the will,of the Father, Son and Holy Spi rit; and we call upon yon, by virtue of your baptism, to seek to ascertain what that.will is —we call upon you to spared the Scriptures, and even your own Church teaches that the Scriptures are the Word of God, and the Scrip tures tell you that the Pope is a usurper, and that the whole ecclesiastical system, with which you are connected is unsound. ,We exhort you, therefore, as professing Christians, baptized in tlie name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, to assert the liberty wherewith'Christ hath made you. free, and to disentangle yourselves from your present yoke of bondage.” We thus use an argument which will reach the consciences of the Romanists; but if yon tell them that they do not even belong to the visible Church, that they are not among the professors of Chris tianity, and that they have never been baptized; you tell them that which they feel to be untrue —you create irritation, and rivet prejudices. WELLINGTON A MOB One morning in February I noticed threaten ing crowds near the. Pall Mall gate, uot far from •the'statue of Achilles. This statue was. cast from cannons taken in the Iron Duke’s various battles, and was dedicated “ to] Arthur, Duke of Wellington, by the women of England.” I determined to watch the Duke,j and see what was going to be done. Punctual to the mo ment, he descended the steps of Apsley House, his residence. His appearance iwas' imposing. He wafijat the.Jhead.of, jhe Cablet, Premier of England, and he was par excellence the first man in England. It was a drizzly morning. He wore a blue frock coat, buttoned np to the chin, a military stock, and brown pantaloons. His falcon eye surveyed the excited groups about the Park gate, with a sort of pleasant contempt. The mob were either awed by his; appearance and prestige, or they had not ybt' screwed their courage to the insulting point. The Duke passed on horseback, attended : by his faithful valet. Nobody molested him: till he reached his office. There the mob hissed him, bat when he turned around and faced them, the hissing ceased. He then quietly entered his office. As I knew the hour he would leave Downing street to, return to the Park, I was there indue season. The neighborhood . of. the Horse Guards probably deterred'a good many of the excited fanatics from gathering about the office, but '.numbers wore gathered. Thfe Duke, who was punctuality itself, came out at’the appoint ed moment, , and mounted his horse amid groans and hisses. After he passed the Horse G uards, the noise increased to shouts. When he passed the Charing Cross, and entered Pall Mall, the mob began to throw missiles and,dirt. Near Pall Mall gate, there was a whirlpool of human beings, eddying round in strange, wild, and yet in a sort of symmetrical confusion. I feared they would murder him there. As he approached the gate, a good deal spattered with mud and dirt, the mob, as if compelled by some higher power than that of earth, made.a lane for him to pass. For a moment they seemed awed, and appeared to relent. Put when he had entered the gate, their violence rose to fury. He dis mounted with difficulty, placed his back against the rails of the statue of Achilles, and calmly faced his furious assailants. I shall never for- get. that moment. Thoughts and feelings took, mastery of my nature, then, that have swayed me ever since. Not one word did he utter. There was no shrinking—not even a cloud of apprehension upon that glorious face. Oh, how infinitely small and contemptible his assail ants looked! How great is man 1 . How little are men!. There was a lull in the storm of snouts,'and missiles and dirt, and an old Irishman, with a wooden leg,i hustled his way to the side of the Duke. This man sold apples and oranges by the Hyde . Park gate, and his basket had been upset by the mob. , When he had reached the Iron Duke he stood by his side, and unbound his wooden leg, and made a speech that imme diately subdued the monster. He began.: .‘;‘My curse on you for cowardly scoundrels! If ye have pluck come and fight me. Let it be two of us against you all. . . Come and kill ns both. This is your fair play! This is English justice! Thousands against one— Think of Waterloo.- But for him and oz, Bo ney woul.d.have bea.ten ye.. I , ye s .got, my-wood en leg fpf fighting fqr.ye—ye ye are goin’ to pay him; by inurtherin ! him, ye bloody sbotmdrels 1 Come on, but come one at a time, not like cowards and ruffians as ye are, altogether.” . The speech was a mighty success. The mob was ashamed and calmed, and began to sneak away; Wellington gave a smile of recognition to the man who had saved his life, and ever af terward, be amply provided for him, as. he did for many others, out of his own private fortune, in Ms own quiet, noiseless way. : ; Moore. SECRET PRAYER. There is no Christian duty more important than secret prayer. And yet there is, perhaps, none more neglected. Every Christian who would “ grow in grace” must pray to God; and he must pray in secret. A person may gather his family around the family altar, morning and evening, and lead them in prayer.* He may go to the social prayer meeting, and there take his part in leading the prayers of that meeting. He may go to the sanc tuary, and even ,enter the sacred‘desk, and there conduct the prayers of the great congregation, lie may do all this, and yet seldom be found alone, wrestling with God in secret.prayer. W.e suppose there is no better test, by whieb a person may determine < his standing with God. If one truly delights in being alone, and holding commu nion with his God, it is, we think, good evidence that he has some claim to the privileges of the children of God. Oh the other hand, if he has ho delight in this part of devotional service, he has reason to doubt the genuineness of his piety. , The excitement of the services in the house of God may stimulate him. He may, with great apparent earnestness, take part in the duty of prayer, under such stimulus. At the' family altar, also, there may be much to cause 'hiui to seem even to delight in prayer. But put him in a different position. Take away from him ; all those surroundings, and place him alone with, his Qod, where there is nothing around him to excite, except the thought that God is there, and then how does he relish’ religion ? Does he delight,- under such circumstances v to hold communion with . God ? The question is not, does he pray, or say prayers, in secret, but does he delight in such intercourse with God? ■ God'certainly teaches the duty- of secret prayer ■hnfh by prompt nnrl example - i,‘JEriter-t.hy inlosof;. and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret.” And Jesus retired alone to pray. Now we do not suppose it is an absolute necessity, that every one should have some secret room into which he could retire, in order that he may engage in secret prayer. This is often impossible. A person may engage in this duty, even when,employed in the busy scenes of life. He may then lift up the sileht secret prayer to God, When amidst the busy stirring scenes of unitary drill, or engaged in the animating strife of the battle field, he may send up a secret prayer to the God of battles for success. Would to God, there were more such praying just now. The prospect for success in our armies would be much brighter. But while secret prayer may be acceptably of fered to God, under such circumstances, still we think that under ordinary circumstances, each one should aim to be alone, and spend a portion of each day in prayer. And especially where parents are raising a family of children, does this seem important. And we think that while prayer is to be in secret, still they should not aim to keep the fact that they engage, in it, a secret from their children. On the contrary, these devotions should be so managed, that 1 the children may know that their parents spend a portion of each day in secret prayer. This is important for the benefit of their children. Example has a much greater influence upon their minds than precept. A little incident, which will illustrate our meaning, just now occurs to mind. A little boy, of about four years, was once, in our repeating his evening prayer to his father: After finishing his prayer, he in nocently looked up at his" father, and said : “Pa, do you say your prayers in bed?” The, little fellotf had never noticed his father saying his prayers, and he supposed he must do it in bed. Christian Instructor. REPENTANCE AND REMORSE There is a wide difference between repentance and remorse. Both are excited by the remem brance of past actions which conscience condemns, and both are painful feelings. So much they have in cbmmon. But remorse respects only the past, while repentance includes the purpose of amendment for the future. He who repents, purposes not to repeat the guilty acts to which his repentance relates. Remorse is purely painful, while, repentance, from the very fact just men tioned, that it includes the purpose of amendment, cannot be wholly disagreeable. Just as surely as the remembrance of the past fault is distressing, just so surely is the present consciousness of a better mind comforting and joyful. -Remorse re spects only ourselves, .without any regard to the person against whom our fault has been committed. Repentance, in a Christian sense, includes sorrow in view of the act repented of, not merely as a wrong done by us, but as a wrong suffered by the injured person, whether that person be our fellow creature or our Creator. Remorse is a part of the retribution of sin; repentance is a part of the remedy for it. Remorse is involuntary; "repen tance is voluntary. This is suggested by the de rivation of the words; Remorse is the sin acting upon the sinner; repentance is the sinner reflect ing upon the sin. In remorse, the guilty act, like a venomous reptile, turns hack upon the ac tor, and darts its vengeful tooth into his soul, and tortures him with an" acute pang. In repentance, the convinced sinner looks back with a deep, yet not unsolaced sorrow, upon his hated fault. The repentance which Judas is said to have ex ercised (Matt, xxvii. 3,) was rather remorse, or regret, than true penitence. Indeed, the original word is not the same which is used to denote ge nuine evangelical repentance. It is a word which, is used in only four other places (Matt. xxi. 29, 32; 2 Cor. vii. 8; Heb. vii. 21,) and does not ne cessarily express any thing more than a feeling of regret, or concern, in view of the past. A deri vative of this word is used in two places (Rom. xi. 29, and 2 Cor. vii. 10,) in the first of which it is translated “ without repentance,” aud in the second, “not.to be repented of.” The gifts and calling of God,” to whieh the epithet is applied in the first passage, are never regretted by him who ; bestows them; the “ repentance unto salvation,” referred to in the second passage, is never regret ted by him who exercises it. Compare with these Eom. ii. 5, where a corresponding epithet, de rived from the word which expresses evangelical repentance, is used—“ after thy hardness and im penitent heart." ENGLISH REPLIES TO THE TIMES During the agony of our Indian rebellion, when the fate of an empire trembled in the balance, and the proud heart of England was shaken with an guish, the sympathy of Burope, in the presence of a calamity in wbieh the whole of Christendom seemed to partake, was all but universally ex pressed. Ancient enmities, foreign jealousies, held their peace for awhile, and “natural enemies" vied with the nearest and dearest friends in ge nerous grief and hope. Among foes and aliens, if a tone of sneering pity or contemptuous regret jarred upon the public ear, it was instantly covered with shame and reprobation by nobler voices. Over the narrow seas a gallant people: watched our vary ing fortunes with that fraternal interest which brave, men feel in .the actions of the brave;. faint and few indeed were the mutterings of unmanly and malignant exultation at the tragic vicissi tudes of a-inortal struggle which history shudders to recall. Hut among pur. kinsmen beyond the Atlantic it was not mere interest that was felt for England at that terrible moment, or common human sym pathy,:; it is but the simple truth to say that the heroes and the victims of Lucknow and Cawnpore honored and lamented by the people of the United States, and the trials and exploits of Eng lish courage and endurance treasured up as the immortal part of an indivisible inheritance of blood, language and renown. And yet there were voices of hate, envy, and savage joy to break the resolute stillness of the national sorrow, and to Insult the sympathies of Christian Europe. Abroad, and even at home, there were “Sepoy” journals, which recounted with undisguised satisfaction the hor rors of the mutiny, and frantically foretold the end of British rule in India. These “Sepoy” journals, however, had one redeeming merit—the frankness of their ferocious taunts and sinister predictions was appalling; but it was more tolerable than in sult and outrage disguised in protesting pity, or simulating regretful amazement and compassion. When the day of trial and trouble comes again for England,.we trust.it may not be remembered that the most powerful, and therefore most re sponsible of English journals celebrated the issue of the first great Battle between the army of the United States and' the army of the Southern rebels as a loss of all, “even of military honor,” to citizen volunteers who had fought for nine hours of a summer’s day against overwhelming odds, for a cause as sacred as law and order, as precious as na tional liberty and unity. Our eotemporary would fain, it should seem, endeavour to reduce the con flict to the dimensions of a border raid or a barba rous brawl: But, as this is impossible, it degrades a war from which anarchy and slavery, or freedom purified and ordered anew for higher purposes, spring to the proportions of “a senseiess and bloody strife.” ‘This is not only to caricature liv ing facts; it is to give the ,lie in history. Civil war it was that made the ancestors of the men who fought at Bull Run, great and free; though, ho doubt; there were disinterested persons in those days who condemned the “ senseless and bloody strife” by which our forefathers dearly purchased-at the cost, of their lives *ll that their descendants.now enjoy. Civil war, too, though, uo doubt, It was some times “a senseless and bloody strife,” lias done something for the strength and grandeur, if not for the freedom of France. Had England dis played that “humility and contentment which fa cilitates peaee” in the days of the Stuarts, or France in the face of the coalition of old monar chies, We know not if France would now be greater or England freer, hut assuredly there would be little enough upon which to congratulate the sur vivors of either revolution. The cynical selfishness with which the pnblie opinion of England is so often credited by foreign ers has never found a more exalted expression than in these reckless utterances, Nor are these opinions, even in their own sense, discerning or acute. It was to be expected that a defeat of the Federal army would, in the eyes of the adroit and abject believers in the sacredness of success, lend to the cause of the South, a legitimacy w.hich no reasoning could ever gain for it. Yet already it is clear that the results of the action of the 21st were not so disastrous to the Federal army as to forbid altogether a southern advance this year. The. victory of .the Southern army was due no doubt to superior skill in its leaders, but the choice of a defensive position and the arrival of timely reinforcements must be taken into account on the Same side:; arid the “panic” that decided the is sues of the fight is an incident not unparalleled in the military annals of European powers. The losses both in men and material of the Federalist force are pot so', considerable as was at first “report ed. Oh the other hand, the scope of the war is infinitely enlarged. And the protraction of the contest is all in favor of those wlio have the. largest reserves jof men and means. A. defeat of the North shuts the door to compromise, or acquies cence in any terms the South can offer. The Union is bound to conquer now. The spirit of New England and the Northwest will rise to the occasion; and we of the old race, tried and strength ened by many reverses, shall not be surprised if our kinsmen never rest until they have turned defeat into victory. It may be that the triumph of the cause of freedom must date from a defeat. An easy war is often content ,to subside into an inglorious peace. A lottery is a kind of game by wbicb, for a va luable consideration; one may, by the favor bf the lot, obtain a prize of mnolf greater value than the amount which he risks; or he may lose again and again, all he risks, by the disfavor of the lot. The word is of Italian origin; but the lot was in use froin the earliest ages of history. Thb deception for which lottery managers were famous, when the lot was used as a means of gain, is; so to speak, wrought up in the structure of the Greek language, as appears from a word used Ephesians iv. 14, which has been rendered “cunning craftiness.’' ; Governments have frequently established lotte ries in order todevote the proceeds to public pur poses. Lotteries have also been resorted to as a means of revenue. But they have always had an evil—a corrupting Influence on the community; and their tendency has been towards poverty ra ther 1 than wealth. Men, in the common walks of life, who have to live- by their industry, and who have, therefore, to be industrious that they may live, are most apt to be allured by them. Thus, they are drawn away from the ordinary in dustrial pursuits of society, which, after all, are the only reliable means of individual or national A thirst for the rapid accumulation of wealth is created; get money—honestly if you can, but get, soon becomes the prevailing maxim. Thousands become bankrupt in fortune and in fame, and are turned loose to prey on the very vi tals of society. 1 M. It is said that between the years 1816 and .1826 the French Government derived an immense re venue from lotteries; but what was the effect on “the people”-—the bone and sinew of a nation. In proportion as the coffers of the government were filled, improvidence prevailed among the .masses... This appears from the /act that, the year alter lotteries were suppressed by . the go vernment, 500,000,francs were found in the “sa- Vln ?®, Faris, more than in the same of the preceding year. [From the London Daily News.] LOTTERIES, TOL. YI —M l—Whole No. 270. The earliest English lottery of which there is said to be any account, was established in the year 1569. The drawing took place at the west door cf St. Paul's Cathedral. The profits were to be devoted to the improvement of the harbors. It seems to have been of kin to our modern “ Church fairs” as they are called. During the following cen tury, the passion for this kind of gaming seems to have increased greatly. In 1612, by the favor of James 1., a lottery was drawn for the benefit of the “ Virginia Company,” which produced 30,000 pounds sterling. The first lottery established by act of Parliament was in 1709. In the year 1770 there were said to be 400 lotteries in the king dom under governmental patronage. In the year 1819 the pernicious effects of the system began to attract public attention, and the subject was earnestly discussed in Parliament. But, though the evil effects of the system were admitted, lotte ries were thought to be necessary as a means of revenue—the argument which, with us, is some times still used in favor of groggeries. At length, however, the public mind became so fully con vinced of the iminoral' tendency of lotteries, that, in the year 1833, they were abolished by an act of Parliament. Examiner. In the United States, the lottery has, from the beginning, been a very common resort, when funds were to be raised for particular purposes,—the co lonies, the daughters, in this, as in other subjects, following the example of the “ Mother Country.” A voice-—a protest was, however, now and then raised against them. At Boston, in the year 1699, an assembly of the ministers of the Gospel, branded the lottery as “ a cheat,” and its mana gers as “ pillagers of the people.” Still the sys tem stood its ground. Colleges were founded, and various institutions of a benevolent nature, were established or strengthened by a resort to. the lottery. But the more intelligent and sober portion of the religious' public remonstrated. In the year 1833 a society was formed in Pennsyl vania which advocated the suppression of lotteries. In the year following the society published an ad dress to the public on the subject. At length many of the states passed acts prohibiting the fu ture establishment of lotteries. The constitu tions of some of the states forbid their legislatures to establish them. In others, those who establish private lotteries are subject to heavy penalties. Delaware is the only state known to me which still cherishes “ the peculiar institution.” * It must be an objeet of deep solicitude to every right tbiribing man that the war in which we are engaged should not cause a subversion of the morals of the nation. It has always been conceded amongst us, that a republican form of government, -with the liberal in stitutions pertaining to it, is only adapted to a compa ratively enlightened people, among whom the princi ples of private and public virtue are predominant. If, therefore, these principles by any means become great ly impaired or subverted, what hope for the republic, though we be successful in suppressing the rebellion? Even if there he no. great fear of such a total subver sion of morals as would render hopeless the future per manence and prosperity of the nation, is there not room to apprehend at least a serious damage from this cause? May it not be possible that the war will be the source of lasting, if not incurable evils? There is danger of this, and it becomes every Christian citizen to exert what influence he may to avert such calami ties. One of the dangers arises from the •demoralizing (not iu the military sense) of our armies. The field and the camp have never been schools of the do mestic and social virtues, but ordinarily the reverse. It is, indeed, by no means an impossible thing for a Christian man to be a soldier, nor for a soldier to be a Christian. Especially may this be the ease when the cause for which he risks his life is a good and right eous one. This point needs not to be argued. Few doubt it. Gar cause, the cause of the government and of the loyal states in this conflict, is, we verily believe, among the most righteous and the most noble for which a people ever contended. We cannot place it in this respect below the Revolutionary straggle, the war of independence. That was for the founding of the nation: this for its preservation. Tbe revolution ary heroes have always been held iu the highest honor and reverence, have.always been deemed worthy not only of our gratitude, but of the gratitude of toiling millions in the world besides, for their toils and suffer ings in the establishment of legally guarded freedom. Is it a less meritorious thing to bleed for tbe perpetua tion of the institutions which they bequeathed us? If it was grand and praiseworthy to build tbe house, is it less grand aDd praiseworthy to keep it from being pulled down in rain over the heads of its inhabitants ? Neither is it necessary to argue the point. As well adduee the multiplication table to prove that two and two make four. So far as the cause is concerned, then, there is no thing in it to demoralize our soldiery. If it were plain ly iniquitous, or even doubtful in its character, re quiring in those defending it a course of action con trary to or not sanctioned by their judgment and con science, this very fact would go far to blunt their mo ral sensibilities, and to deprave them. But an enlist ment in a cause so noble and meritorious as the pre servation of our incomparable government, the defence of our ■ Constitution, and the preservation of our na tional integrity, is in itself ennobling and exalting. The heroic self-sacrifice involved in the act should serve to dignify and. purify the men who rush to our battle-fields. The struggle in which our brave soldiers are engaged is compatible with a high standard of mo rality, and the loftiest religious principle. For aught we can see, the war on our side might also be made a means of grace, each march a holy pilgrimage, and each battle an act of faith, like those of ancient Israel when they adhered to the covenant of their fathers. Men might consistently go from their knees to the sanguinary conflict. A devout sheriff has been known to pray for an unhappy culprit before launching him into eternity in obedience to the mandate of law. The act was befitting and beautiful. So might our sol diers, who are the executors of law in another form, enter upon their sad task of punishing transgressors with feelings both of devotion and benevolence. It is related as a singular incident in one of the battles of Western Virginia, that- a Methodist preacher, be longing to one of the regiments, who was a remark ably sure shot, each time after taking steady aim and firing, brought down his piece with the formula, “And may the Lord have mercy on your soul 1” That man was fighting in tbe right spirit. He was exe cuting the penalty of the law upon evil-doers, just as a pious sheriff might do upon a condemned criminal. Such aman might come out of the war undepraved. Unfortunately it is to be feared that few comparatively db their duty in this manner, even when fighting in a good cause. The evil passions engendered in the heat of the strife, the hatred, the revenge, the thirst for blood, the sometimes unnecessary sacrifice of pro perty and life, all tend to deprave the character of the soldier. The same feelings, moreover, in the non combatant community, wbo are watching the con test and interested in it, have the same effect. The heart is hardened by becoming familiar with scenes of blood and carnage; human life comes ts be under valued; the fiercest passions rage, and the whole cha racter assumes a reckless or malevolent type. Even in the most righteous and necessary of wars it is to be confessed that there is too much tendency to this diabolism of human nature. Hence the necessity of watchfulness and effort to guard against it. Besides all this, it is too well known that ordi nary camp life is beset with many a snare, and is exceedingly unfavorable to morality and religion. The promiscuous assembling together in close com panionship of such crowds of men, of all descriptions of character, many of them of the worst, tends greatly to the corruption of morals. A large proportion of onr soldiery are young men, and, far removed from the restraints to wliieii they have been accustomed at home, they too readily imbibe the spirit and adopt the manners of those around them. A Remarkable Parish. The first church in Braintree, Mass:, was gathered in September, 1707, since which time it has had but three pas tors besides Rev. Dr. Storrs, the present minister. None of his predecessors have lived less than se venty-five years, or preached less than fifty years. The first pastor was blessed with good health to such a rare degree that he preached every Sabbath but two during forty-six years. Dr. Storrs has just entered upon the fifty-first year of his minis try over this ancient society. * We believe that the Legislature of Delaware recent ly abolished tbe lottery system. Eds. Christian Instructor. MORALS OF OUR SOLDIERS.
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