(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.