Vol. Til, Fo. 47.—Whole -Eo. 359. “I’m Old To-Day.” An aged man, on reaching bs seventieth birth day, like one surprised, paced his house, exclaim ing — Im an old man I—l’m an old man 1" I wake at last; Fve dreamed too long, Where are my three-score-years-and-ten ! My eyes are keen, my limbs are strong: I well might vie with younger men. The world, its passions and its strife, Is passing from my grasp away, And though this pulse seems* full of life, “ I'm old to-day—l’m old to-day 1” Strange, that I never felt before . That I had almost reached Bay goal, My bark is nearing death’s dirk shore: Life’s waters far behind me roll; And yet I love their murmuring swell- Their distant breakers’ proud array- And must I —can I say “ Farewell “ I’m old to-day—l'm old to-day.” This house is mine, and those, broad lands That slumber 'neath yon fervid sky; Yon brooklet, leaping o’er the Sands, Hath often met my boyish eye. I loved those mountains when a child; They still look young in green Array: Ye rooky cliffs, ye summits wild, “ I’m old to-day—l’m old to-day 1” 'Twixt yesterday's short hours and me, A mighty gulf hath intervened, " A. man with men I seemed to be— But now ’tis meet I should be weaned From all toy kind—from kindred, dear; From those deep skies-—that landscape gay ; From hopes and joys,l’ve cherished here “ I'm old to-day—l'm old to-day!” 0 man of years, while earth recedes, Look forward, upward, not behind I Why dost thou lean on broken reeds ? Why still with earthly fetters bind Thine ardent soul ? Hod give it wings, ’Mid higher, purer joys to stray l In heaven, ho happy spirit sings “ I'm old to-day—l’m old to-day 1” THE LIBERTIES OF GENEVA THIRD PAPER. Thb imperfect longings of the Genevese for.liberty were, at this period,—A.D. 1516- 1517—represented by two prominent per sons, nathed Bonivard and Berthel%, whom D’Attbigne characterises as “ the classic ” and “ the republican.”. They were intimate and devoted friends. Bonivard was the prior of a monastery, a man of culture who, like Erasmus, longed and hoped for the enfran chisement of the intellect. Like him, he scourged the enormities of the monks, but was alarmed at. the severe doctrines of . the Reformation. He attacked the old society, but he did not love the new. At tjie sacri fice of his refined tastes, he mingled with the revels of the Genevan youth, under the lead of the politic and more positive Berthelirir, scattering among them the scintillations of his brilliant intellect, but he was without a clear lookout into the future. Berthelier was a man Of the people, who had plans which he spread out in these colloquies, and who expected a noble, a vital, a durable lib erty to rise upon, the ruins of the selfish and discordant republics of Italy. Neither of them comprehended the great moral and re ligious preparation which must be made, before the foundation of modern liberty could arise from the chaos. “After Berthelier the republican, after Bonivard the classic, another man was to appear, tCrttum genus, a third kind, A Christian hero was called to lay in Geneva the foundations of enlightened society, inflexible morality, unyielding faith, and thus to save the cause of .liberty.” With out the work of Calvin the liberties of Gene va had proved unattainable. The liberty-loving citizens under tbe lead of Berthelier, drew closer together, as they and their rights wete more seriously impe rilled. They formed a kind of secret society, with the motto: “ Who touches one touches all." The duke waited, angry and impatient for his prey. The trifling ententes which arose under the provocation of the bastard bishop, were still insufficient to secure his ends through the intervention of the' Court of Cardinals. Liberty, as ever in tbe history of the world, had friends,and favorable cir cumstances provided, in the most uulikely places. But the severer measures necessary to crush the spirit of liberty, or to fan it into open revolt, were not long delayed. A blow was aimed at its most distinguished ad vocate, Berthelier. An, irresolute member of the Society “ who touches,one touches all,” was captured by strategem, and was put to the torture. Confessions false and true were wrung from him, implicating the republican leader in plots against the bishop’s life. Such plots had no existence, but tne arrest of Berthelier was demanded of the Syndics, upon this evidence, by the bishop. Berthelier, himself a member of the council charged with the duty of arresting him, was perfectly cool, and even hesitated to use the opportu nity given him by his friends for flight. He expected, sooner or later, to die a martyr to the cause, and even'believed his death to be necessary to its triumph. He was most phi losophically indifferent to the time and cir cumstances in which It might oceUr. A deputation from the canton of Eriburg hap pened to be in Geneva at the time. At the urgent representations of his friends, who argued that he could serve the. cause in Swit zerland better than by remaining ip Geneva, he consented to disguise himself in the cos tume of the Friburgers, and,' escaped with them in the early morning. , , , The righteous cause Was* passing! through one of those periods of depression wnicn i must often meet in its struggles ?fW tne powers of evil in our fallen world. representative in Geneva was a fugitive , its society “ who touches one pouches ally fallen inoperative, at the moment when most needed by its founder. The Juhorpds and half-hearted, who had espoused thecausein ns better days, weremow 16 silence or positive,acquiescence. x g conspiracy of Savoy against* Geneva wasmi . tk. point of succeeding. He Jishonqced bishep, M>d thereto Coun Genevois— -all wuK»f (Mr the independence of the , v this very darkness originated the irf final deliverance. Berthelier’s flight into Switzerland was not only a flight, but a suc cessful embassy in behalf of Geneva. Ar rived in Friburg, he sat down silent, sorrow ful and motionless, by the hearth of a noble filler, a warm friend of the city. He u- i•^ rn ’ a t length, that he came not to save his life, but to save Geneva; he had come to pray Friburg to receive tbe Genevans into citizenship. The councillor entered warmly into his plans. Tbe guilds were assembled. Berthelier plead his cause be fore them with noble eloquence. They re solved to send delegates to Geneva, who rem^ft e d s.ome time in the city, took counsel with Tne patriots, stirred them np byreciting the deeds and sufferings of the Swiss for liberty, had an audience with the Syndics, and even visited the bishop at his country seat and demanded, though in vain, a safe conduct for Berthelier. Burning with indig nation, they promised, as they departed, to rouse up Switzerland and remedy the griev ances of the Genevese by force. ORIGIN OP THE TERM “HUGUENOTS.” A political party was thus formed in Ge- 1 neva, whichplaced its hopes of deliverance not in the licentious band of the so-called “ Children of Geneva,” but in the alliance thus virtually formed with the Helvetip League. The duke’s party were not long in fastening upon them a nickname, which has passed Unto all the languages of Chris tendom, and became studded and embalmed with the most precious and hallowed associa tions. “ Hardly had the Friburg deputies left the town/’ says D’Aubigne, “ when the duke’s party, accosting the independent Ge-, nevans, and gallicising each in his own , way the German word JSidesgenossen (confede rates) which they, could not pronounce, called after them, Biaguenots, Mignots, Myquenots, Huguenots ! It, is possible that the name of the citizen, Besangon Hugues, who be came tbe principal leader of this party may have contributed to the preference of this latter form over all others. In any case, it must be remembered that, until after the Reformation, this sobriquet had a purely political meaning. Many years after, the enemies of the- Protestants of France called them by this name, wishing to stigmatize them and impute to them a foreign, .republi can, heretical origan. Such is the true etymology of the word. A little later, about Christmas; when the cause of the alliance became more advanced, its use became more general.” This we believe to be a new solution .of a very difficult question. The term “ Huguenot ” has heretofore generally been regarded as indigenous to France. Of its use in Geneva many years before it was applied in France, there can be no doubt in the mind of any one who glances over D’Au bigne’s authorities given in- the footnotes. Referring to the use of it in both, countries, he says: “It would be very strange if these two denominations, which ere really but one, had played so large a part in the sixteenth, century, at. Geneva and in French Protest antism, without having had any connection wim one another.” Gieseler. gives a long extract from Beza in his Ch. Hist. Vol. IV, note 2, page 800 (Harpers’ Edit.) in which the name is explained in a very complicated and to us unnatural way, as a term of deri sion applied first to the Lutherans of Tours, for attending services at night. Gieseler thinks it remaikable that any are unsatisfied with this solution according to which the term was first publicly applied in 1560. Whereas, according to D’Aubigne, we find it in vogue forty-two years previously in Geneva. The only remaining difficulty re lates to the German origin of the word. It maybe supposed that the inhabitants of Fri burg spoke the German language. Yet.the deputies to Geneva in all probability used French in l their intercourse with the people of that city. How then could the Genevese have heard or caught a German word, and travestied it into their own language ? Upon this point we have no light. However the priority in the nse of the term belongs clearly to Geneva father than to France. The party of Independence were not to be ontdone in the use of opprobrious titles. They called their, opponents Mamelukes. “As the Mamelukes have denied Christ,” they said, “ to follow Mahomet, so yon deny liberty and the public cause to pat yottrselves under a tyranny.” The just and therefore exaspe rating term was long current in Geneva. ! THE SWISS ALLIANCE was galling to the Duke and to all opposed to Genevan independence. Further acts of violence on ! the part? ofthe bishop brought on a threatening state of affairs. The Duke himself visited Friburg and sought to cajole the sturdy inhabitants into a more friehdly attitude. Concessions were made. A par don was offered to Berthelier. “A pardon!” exclaimed the' haughty republican, “ pardon does not concern good men but criminals. I demand absolution if I am innocent, and pu nishment if I am guilty.” Diplomatists represented to the duke that he must take care ,»t any, cost not: to alienate the Swiss. Geneva already was gaining substantial ben efits from a Swiss alliance of the most infor mal character. THE GREAT NEW YORK PEAGE“DEMON- STRATION. Everybody has been for some time hear ing of an extensive “ Peace Movement” in New York city. A great “ Peace” meeting was held some few weeks ago in Cooper In stitute or the Park, at which it was said as many as 25,000 “Peace Democrats” were present* A most extraordinary anxiety for a cessation of hostilities* in our country-was manifested, very .pidus-sounding expressions about the cruelty of war wereV uttered, and it is understood that those most Christian gentlemen, the Woods, attempted to fortify their arguments by quotations from the Scriptures. * Newspaper organs have industriously la bored to give currency to these “peace” views. The war, it was is doomed to give way to the enlightened public sentiment which is rapidly forming/ It-turns out however that these movements were mere preliminaries—feints ,so to speak. The true Peace Demonstration came off in New York city in the early part of last week. All the high sounding demonstrations against war which we have heard from par ty lenders in that city for the last year, reached their practical climax in the as PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, JULY 23, 1863. founding scenes of July 13th and 14th. We know now beyond a doubt what they meant. The “Peace party” of New York is the mob. It is opposed to this war simply be cause it is an armed resistance to the mob. It is for peace with all resisters of the law 3. It is for peace, because in the rapid subju gation of the great southern mob, it sees the approaching doom of the principle of law lessness every where. The draft was but tee occasion, the Ithuriel spear, which robbed the “ peace party, of its evangelical dis guise, and revealed it in its native loathsome ness. It is the worst and most abominable war party in the land. It is for war in every city and village of tee north. It is for war without the ameliorations of regular military operations—war upon the defenceless—war upon the rich. Its Objects are plunder, the gratification of fierce prejudices and passions which the law restrains, the overthrow of civil and social arrangement, the destruction of our vCry foundations. If this is the peace which we are to exchange for the present war, every sensible man Will earnestly hope that the war may never come to/an end. It is not half so humiliating or so dangerous to the north. Peace ? What can peace with armed rebels mean but a license to rebellion, a premium to anarchy, a fatal concession to the mob ? The men who clamour for such a peace, the politicians who plot for it, the editors who advocate it are pandering to the most dan gerous spirit of anarchy. They are stand ard bearers of the mob. They are rebels at heart. Rebellion must be put down. Law must triumph or it is no law. Tbe national authority must be vindicated by the utter overthrow or the unconditional submission of its oppqsers. The true peace party of the north is the war party. We belong to it be cause it is the true peace party. It never raises mobs, never threatens citizens with violence on account of opinion or color, never sends representatives to. Congress who inflame themselves with liquor and carry concealed weapons into the national council chambers, or strike down a senator with ruffian violence for words- spoken in debate. Its war is against such ruffianism, which has been ram pant and undisguised in the south, and which until lately has found an imperfect conceal ment in tee north under the eloke of tee “ Peace” party. The secret, if such it was, is out. The Peace movement at the north is almost identical in spirit with tee rebellion in the south. The police force in New York are,but another column of the union army ; they are pitted against the same foes;,we are glad to see that they proved themselves worthy of their associates upon other fields, not even sparing their blood in the cause of constitutional order. We devoutly trust that this astonishing developement of “ peace principles” will open the eyes of not a few to the magnitude of the delusion into which they have been led :by the perversion of a sacred word. ' GOVERNMENT SUPPORT OF IDOLATRY IN INDIA. Mg Dear Brother Mears : You are aware that one of the anomalies which constantly meet ns here in India, is the sight of this vile system of idolatry, un der the close supervision, protection and support of “ Her Most Christian Majesty ” Queen Victoria's Government, that the di rect annual money payments to the idols, temples and priests, from the Government treasury amount to more than 1,700,000 Rs. and jthat the system involves legislation and frequent judicial decisions for the protection of-Idolatry. Two items of interest touching this Gov ernment connection with idolatry, have re cently transpired. One is the refusal of , the Madras High Court to award the claims of a priest against the common people. The priest brought in a claim of some twenty-five thousand rupees against the people of certain localities for injury done to him in withhold ing the honors and emoluments he had been accustomed to receive from them. The Chief Justice of Madras ruled teat the priest could not claim the offerings by virtue of any civil right thereto —thus leaving it wholly at the option of the people to give or withhold such, offerings. To appreciate the great advance involved in this decision, you will need Only to con trast it with official acts under the same Gov ernment a few years ago, —acts enforcing taxes for the support of idolatry, and even scourging the poor natives to make them draw, the idol cars. There is ground for real gratification at this decision, hut our joy is held in check by the fact that the decision is based on no general or uniform principle of the Government, arid only indicates the views and moral sensibilities of the individual offi cers under whose jurisdiction tee case was brought. A similar case in the bands of other officers might issue in a decision pre cisely the opposite. In this Presidency, so recently as 1856, a Hindu had a civil case decided against him by a British officer,, for breaking in pieces a stone idol. But we ac cept this decision as an omen of good, and sincerely hope it may prove a much quoted and influential precedent. If these corrupt and corrupting priests and temples could be left entirely to their own gods arid people, with no support arid protection from the Bri tish Government, it would be a bright day for India, and betoken the certain downfall of this whole system of idolatry. The other item is anew hill recently pass • ed by the Government of India, intended to terminate its administration of the endow ments of heathen temples. No doubt this bill originated in the constant action and mis givings of enlightened consciences, both on the part of British officers required to ad minister these endowments, and on the part of Christian men in India and England, who blush to see their highest officials made min-- istering priests and servants to these idols and temples. The bill does indeed propose a remedy for this enormous evil and sin. If carried out, it will terminate, the active hand-, ling and administering of these temple-funds by British officers. But how ? Simply by making over these funds and endowments to native committees or trustees outside of Go-, vernment—thus guaranteeing tee support of the idols and priests in perpetuo-sinning in a, lump all they would otherwise have sinned in a lifetime. Well does the Poona Observer, one of our secular papers, remarks of this bill, “Instead of Government paying a small sum monthly or yearly towards the support of temples, they have now by this act made over the endowments bodily inj a capital sum; or in land, to the trusiees. The act amounts to a permanent alienation of these funds, which must be very considerable in capital value, for idolatrous purposes; Surely there is no thing particular to triumph about here.” The editor goes on to estimate the value of this perpetual endowment to one temple at Poona, to be 500,000 rupees, and after speaking of another temple there which “ was built by Captairl Robertson, the first British collector of Podjia,” he adds; “We fear this • act is altogether. a step in the wrong direction; We iay assume that the superstitious and impure worship of heathen divinities is injurious to.fhe people of India; if so our Government hot to endow it. By this act they have endowed it, and can not now withdraw it '; whereas by keeping the property in their own hands, they reserv ed to themselves the power of discontinuing the donation whenever they thought proper. They might have diverted, it to some other purpose likely to, be as beneficial to the peo ple as the present destination of it is certainly the reverse. They have now. riveted the re proach of supporting idolatry on themselves more firmly thin ever.”? To those who have been long hoping and praying that British consciences would even tually work themselves clear of the enormous guilt involved in this support of idolatry, by diverting these; large funds to some agencies which should promote the mental, moral, or physical good of the Hindus, this new bill comes as the death knell to our; fondest hopes on this subject. Native' rulers have been wont to bestow grants upon' the idols and recall them at pleasure. The British Government decrees thjit this support shall be perpetual. As the** Hindus become en lightened and, disposed to disallow the un righteous claimsiof-their corrupt .priests and idols, it is distressing to think that the bur-' den of supporting them’ forever to the extent of these endowments, is bound upon them by a Christian government. I send you the 'financial statement of ouf India Government for 1863r4. You will ob serve the 'u . ’ Estimated revenue is £45,306,200 or $226,531,000. Est’ed expenditure, £44,490,425 or $222,452,125. Estimated surplus, This, after reducing our income tax from four to three per cent.’, with some reductions of the tax on iron, wine and beer, is regard ed extremely* satisfactory. Of the whole revenue, $98,544,500 comes from the sweat and toil of the poor cultivators-; and you will mark the $40,000,000 derived from the body and-soul-destrdying traffic* in opium, and other moral elements revenue., I gave you some account not long since, (see American Presbyterian of March 19th,) of our “ Christian Vernacular Education So ciety for India." Two of our Kolapoor Mis sion teachers just succeeded in competing for the prizes offered by this Society, one of them receiving the highest prize but one, among the thirty .successful candidates. The Society has recently established a school at Madras, for training teachers, and is about organizing a system of vernacular schools, which bid fair to prove serviceable in advan cing the education of the masses. So long as only two or three in a hundred of dll these millions of idolators know how to read, these vernacular schools: are the crying want of India; This one fact precludes the necessity of any argument in defence of such schools in connection with our missionary labors, if we would ever hope to break up this cemen ted mass of ignorance and superstition. I write for liidia, but don’t think we for get our beloved native land, or the brave, true hearts who are periling treasure and life in that terrible conflict for life and lib erty. God shield them in the day of battle, and speed them to the final victory. Yours .faithfully, R. G. Wilder. jWwtMMS. DISCIPLINE. Our reforming ancestors paid much atten tion to church order and the maintenance of the discipline of Christ’s house. They mul tiplied rules and regulations, and were stern, harsh and ; perhaps, in many.cases cruel in their treatment of offenders. It must be remembered, however, (that they had to do with a rude age, and jto .deal with men of rough manners. Society, in general was harsh ; civil as well asi ecclesiastical author ities were severe in punishing transgressors. It 'was the age when men believed in the Di vine right of Kings, and when the liberty and well-being, of the subject were but a se condary consideration. Hi church matters 1 some believed in the Divine right of the Pa pacy, others in the Divine] right of Prelacy,; others in the Divine right of Presbytery, and some in the Divine right of ecclesiastical democracy, and each religious sect or com munity could not entertain the thought of tolerating the existence of its rivals: That would he a sin. It was a duty; to Cod and to the commonweal for the Papjst to burn the heretical Protestant. It was. equally meritorious on the part of the Prelatist to destroy the Presbyterian; and our Cove nanting forefathers felt it to be their sacred duty to •“ extirpate ” prelatists and malig nants. The Independents during their short lease of power in England, did their best to “ extirpate ” rival sects. They burnt witches and Quakers in New England, as Papists burnt heretics in the old world., Indeed all sects down to a comparatively recent period felt it to be a sacred duty to burn or other wise destroyed women of, wrinkled faces and eceentric manners, under the name of witches. ‘ But a strong reaction has taken place. Sects that once had the liveliest faith in witches hardly believe that there,is a God. Communions-in which once death was the punishment for nonconformity to mere out ward ceremonies, notff. permit men who sap the very foundations, of the Christian faith, to enjoy the highest offices in their gift with out any efficient attempt to discipline them. New England ‘furnishes examples of the first: Old England of, the second '.—Ger many of both. £815,775 or $4,078,875. In all communions the tendency of late years has been to disregard discipline—to forget that it is of Divine appointment,—• that it is one of those scriptural means and ordinances which God has given for the per fecting of the mystical body of Christ. God has given both civil and ecclesiatical government for the well-being of human society. Woe to the church or the state that neglects that divine ordinance, or be comes unfaithful or unjust in its adminis tration ! We are responsible to God for the exercise of it; we must not let it lie unused; and we are also responsible for its right ex ercise. The exercise of a.godly discipline in the ■ House of God has, under His blessing, been one of the principal means in preserving the orthodoxy and purity of the Presbyterian Church in. its various branches and in many countries. It' has never administered disci pline with the harsh cruelty with which it was exercised in other churches, neither , has the reaction been so violent in the opposite ■direction. Still the danger at present is on the side of laxity. It becomes us as a church carefully to survey our position and act ac cordingly. The fence must be kept up and repaired if the garden is to be preserved from the ravages of wild beasts. The noisome weeds must also be plucked out if it is to be for beauty and for praise and for goodly fruit. This is a work demanding great care discretion and tenderness.— R. and F. Rec. Presb. Oh. of the Lower Provinces. IMPROMPTU CELEBRATION OF THE FALL OF VICKSBURG. Among the touching and memorable inci dents of the late great victories given to our armies, the following, narrated by the Phila delphia, Worth American, of what occurred in our city, last week, will thrill every God fearing and loyal heart: Independence Square, on the announce ment of the capture of Vicksburg, saw a sight Philadelphia never before witnessed—never may again. The tidings of the progress of the Union arms brought it about. When first promulgated, a large number of the members of the Union League met coincidentally at the League rooms. The throng increased until the place was nearly filled. The peo ple everywhere had left their places of busi ness, and, the members instinctively sought the League-house for mutual congratulation. It was proposed that something more than an informal recognition of so bountiful a blessing of victory should be made, aud the gentleman present took steps to make it. Birgfeld’s band of forty-six instruments was secured, and with this at its head, the Union League, headed by the Rev. Kingston God dard and Rev. Dr. Brainerd, moved down Chestnut street to Independence Square, keeping step to the glad strains of national airs. , . As the end of the line reached the Square, all uncovered. The line filed to right and left, when Charles Gibbons ascended the steps of Independence Hall. The concourse of people that now poured into the Square were thousands in number. They spread over’a surface beyond earshot of the loudest enunciation. Mr. Gibbons made a brief address. He said that this day the beginning, of the end is in view. The rebels are losing their strong holds, the cause of the Union is approaching its final triumph. He drew a picture of what we were as a nation, what we are, and what in God’s providence, we shall be. He spoke brieily and to the point, but was so over whelmed with cheers that we failed to catch his speech as he uttered it. Rev; Dr. Brainerd now bared bis head, and instinctively-—we believe reverently, as by an intuitive impulse-—every man present was uncovered. A hush fell upon the now densely erowded assemblage as the hand of the reverend doctor was raised, and an invitation §iveo to the multitude to follow him in ren ering thanks to Heaven for its many mer cies, and for crowning the arms of the coun try with victory. Amid more profound silence, we verily believe; than an equal number of people ever kept before, Dr. Brainerd gave praise. He thanked the Almighty for the victories that were now crowning our arms, fie had chas tened US in His displeasure, and alike in that chastening, as now in the blessing upon our work, he recognized the hand of the Omnipo tent: He implored the Divine blessing upon the country and its people—that religion, and truth, and justice might take the place of pride, and arrogance, and vain glory, and that this people might recognize in every event of life the ruling of Divine power. He prayed for the President and Cabinet; for the continued success of our arms, and for the restoration of our national unity; for li berty to the oppressed; for freedom to wor ship God everywhere, and for the coming of that day when His kingdom shall extend over the whole earth. • When, at the close of his prayer the Chris tian minister pronounced the word “ Amen!” the whole multitude took up the Greek dis syllable, and as with one ’mighty voice reechoedit, reverently and solemnly, ‘Amen!’ While this prayer was offering, the hand silently disappeared. As the final word of the supplication was pronounced, a strain of sacred music burst from overhead. The band had ascended to the State House stee ple, and there played with effect that no! tongue can adequately describe the air of Old Hundred, written by Martin Luther two centuries ago. Spontaneously a gentleman mounted a post, and started the melody to the words : “ Praise God from whom all blessings flow.’' 1 The whole multitude caught it up, and a d.oxology was sung with a majesty that Philadelphia never before heard. Every voice united. The monster oratories that we have heard, with a vocal chorus of three hundred singers, dwindled into insignificance in comparison to it. Rev. Dr. Goddard then pronounced the benediction* and the vast audience again covered themselves and slowly dispersed. The whole scene was remarka ble. It was a touching illustration of the fact that down deep in every , man’s heart, no matter what may be the utterances of his lips, or his daily walk and conversation, there is a recognition of the fact that, the Lord reigneth. It is more important to discover a new source of happiness on earth than a new pla net in the sky. TRUE CHRISTIANITY NOT A WORLD-DES PISING IDEALISM. One has a good right' to call the nearly dominant mode of contemplating the world in the physical researches of the day a dead mode, denudedof God, wanting ideality, and narrow. But it cannot be denied that, on the other hand, it has a more concrete, truer insight into the connection of the powers of the world, and of their operations and laws, than the old, and, so to speak, one-sided the ological view of the universe. Whoever now stands true in the Christian faith, denies no actual fact to defend the faith. It is rather the infinite elasticity of Christianity to de rive advantage from every real advance of human knowledge, and to apply it as an im pulse to purify man, and to reveal new sides of the glory of the gospel The world-des pising idealism has, as Qetinger.already per ceived, done so much damage to true theolo gy, and so much does it obstruct even to this day, the historical view of Christianity, that theology may well see in it a summons to give greater significance to the actual world; and the recent mutation of idealism into materialism, which would hardly have been effected had the importance of matter and of the terrestrial world found more correct ap preciation in theology and philosophy, points to the same task. To this we are summon ed also by the undeniable fact, .that the divine work of the Reformation is' closely connected with that revolution, and with the advance of the physical sciences. It is true that Faith, the heart’s love of the Reformation, soars beyond the visible to find its rest-and its life in the living God,, revealed in Christ. It seeks and finds its true citizenship in heaven. But heaven is to it no longer a remote thing in eternity, as it was to the middle ages : it has heaven open, nay faith has heaven already in itself. It is only by a death that this heaven can he en tered, and not by penances hostile to life, which fill up this life and a vast part of the future; hut, by Repentance and Faith; and a commencement of the resurrection to a new life falls already in this life. Though faith, moreover, in this world, ‘‘possesses as though it possessed not,” as far as it is directed to a future goal, the city of God, the new Jeru salem which is above, yet its whole value does not lie in eternity. Since heaven' has descended into the heart, and Christ has made believers his own members, these know that something valuable is already to be found iipon earth. The very personality of the man in whom Christ’s Spirit dwells is already in this world something ennobled by divine love, and has thus a truly immeasura ble value in the eyes of this love—a value not by transmutation into the divine and loss of personal eharaCter, but, on the very con trary, by the perfecting of the creation al ready begun in time. Hence it is self-evident what importance man’s earthly life, or the fimc-iide, has won in this point of view, and what importance anthropology has gained ■alongside of theology, which previously well nigh discerned in God* nothing but tne ma jesty of holy power. In the Reformation View of faith, there lay the germ of a new view of God; but this did not at once obtain free developement. On the contrary, the human mind in the Protestant world cast it self with all its: aspirations and power upon the attainment of the knowledge of man and of the salvation made for him, of mind and physical nature, and upon the investigation and mastery of the stage here given to our race as its possession. / It is true, I repeat, that the study of na ture, and the entire empirieo-realistie direc tion taken by science has in part assumed an ungodly character. Forgetting the whence and the whither, it has shut itself up in a self-created prison, and praised and extolled it as the land of liberty. It has forgotten that it is the gospel by which mankind was raised erect again in Christian nations, ahd the power was recovered by which even se cular opinion subsists in its progressive cul ture. For the life-principle of human culture is worship. Still it remains true that, since the. Reformation, the eyes of mankind have opened to the present world, to its history aud its nature, in a measure unknown before, and that it takes possession of the world with a success never before equalled in intellec tual knowledge and practical conquest. This turn in universal history cannot he wrenched back. Our business is to adapt ourselves to it, and turn it to account as the gospel in tends.—Dorner, iy, the Arn.Presb. and Theol. Review. .' SAVONAROLA AND LORENZO DE MEDICI. It was the custom when any superior was elected in a convent of the city, that he should pay his homage to Lprenzo de Medici, to recommend himself and his convent to the patronage of the Magnificent. This, how ever, the new prior of St. Mark’s refused to do. Lorenzo, who seems to have been wise enough to recognize a great man, either friend or foe, when he saw him, instead of taking offence at this, betrayed a certain anxiety, on the contrary, for Savonarola’s friendship. He tried all kinds of princely wiles to win the powerful orator. He went to walk in the garden of San Marco, by way of affording,an opportunity of personal in tercourse to the stem Dominican. When this strange sight was seen, a crowd of eager Frati rushed to the new prior to make him aware of the Magnifieo’s near vicinity. “ Did he call me ?* asked Fra Girolamo. The mortified monks had to answer no. “ Then leave him in peace and liberty,” said the im movable prior. Finding this attempt fail, Lorenzo tried the effacacy of a large contri bution in gold to the almsbox of the convent church, which, however, Savonarola, not to be outwitted, immediately transferred to the Buon’uomimi di San Martino, a benevolent fraternity; The baffle'd potentate sent, as'a last attempt, a deputation of notable Floren tines, five men afterwards well known to Sa vonarola and tbe world, to remonstrate with the friar as if from themselves, to entreat him to alter his mode of preaching, and not to disturb the peace and amusements of the community. The dauntless priest met the patricians in the strength of a commission far higher than theirs. He told them to go back to Lorenzo and bid him repent of his Sins, which God would speedily punish. When the startled ambassadors warned him to be silent;, on pain of being banished, he answered with.the voice of a prophet—“ You GENESEE EVANGELIST.--Whole No. 896. may fear banishment, you who have wives and children—l fear it not; for however good it is to be here, your country is but as a grain of wheat in comparison with all the world. lam a stranger, and Lorenzo is a citizen and the first in the city; but it is I who shall stay, and he shall go away.” Lo renzo made no further attempts to conciliate Savonarola. He engaged a rival priest and orator to attack him in the pulpit, but with' worse than no effect, for the enthusiasm of the people was increased by the unworthy effort. But the magnificent worldling had been moved somehow in his showy soul to believe in this man, who was neither to be threatened and flattered. When he was dy ing, a year later, he sent on his deathbed for the monk of, San Marco. It strange scene, and one which it is curious to find has escaped the attention of painters. Fra' Gi rolamo came, upon a second summons, and stood by the bedside where lay the most accomplished man of his time,- the philoso pher, poet, prince, and tyrant, who had done so much wrong to Florence. For the first time the brilliant Lorenzo saw those deep prophetic eyes gleaming from under the cowl in stern pity upon his weakness. He con fessed his 'sins to this one true man, in whom he could not but believe. How he had sacked Yolterra ; how he had seized the money in the Maiden’s Bank, so that many a poor maid, dowerless, had fallen into sin; and how he had cruelly revenged himself on his enemies, shedding innocent blood with the guilty. These were the three burdens that weighed most heavily upon his conscience. The friar comforted the dying soul with assurance of God’s mercy, had he bat faith in the infinite merits of the Redeemer. And Lorenzo had faith; his paganism was over for ever faith, and that grandissima. “ Then,” said thauneompromising confessor, “you must restore what you have taken away.” The . penitent this time paused to think, but at length consented. “ And last ly,” said the solemn monk, “ you must restore to Florence that liberty, the most precious possession of a people, which for fifty years the acts of your grandfather, your father, and yourself have taken from her.” The dying potentate made no answer. With an effort he turned upon his bed, turned his haughty face to the wall, and his hack for ever and ever upon Fra Girolamo. The preacher’s prophecy was fulfilled. It was Lorenzo who went away—away from Florence and the world and all his joys. It was the friar, a man of strife and sorrow, a stranger debarr ed of all earthly gladness, whose lot it was to sta j.—Blaelcwood. THE PRESBYTERIAN UNION MOVEMENT. FIRST MEETING OF THE JOINT CQMMITTEE. On Wednesday in Scotland June 17th, the Committees on Christian Union appointed by the Synod of the United Presbyterian Church and the General Assembly of the Free Church held their first meeting. The proceedings at the meeting were private, but the conveners of the two Committees have authorized, the publication’ of the following report: The two Committees met on Wed nesday in the hall connected with the Free Church offices at twelve o’clock noon. On the motion of Dr. Buchanan, Dr. Harper was called to the chair. The meeting at this Bederunt was attended by thirty-five mem bers of the Free Church committee, and by thirty-six of the United Presbyterian com mittee. It was occupied exclusively in de votional exercises and friendly intercourse. The Committees met separately at two P.M., and another joint meeting was held at six P. M., when the following minute was adopted: “At Edinburgh, the 17 th day of June, 186 S, Bix P. M., the committee on Union ap pointed by the Synod of the United Presby terian Church and the General Assembly of the Free Church of Scotland again met as a joint Committee. It was moved and second ed that Dr. Robert Buchanan take the chair, which motion was unanimously agreed to, and Dr. Buchanan took the chair accordingly. “ The meeting was constituted with devo tional exercises. Dr. Buchanan reported as to the procedure recommended by the Com mittee of the General Assembly of the Free Church to be -taken at this meeting. Dr. Harper made a report, on« the part of the Committee of the United Presbyterian Sy nod, in substantial accordance with that made by Dr. Buchanan. Thereafter it was moved, seconded, and unanimously agreed to, that the Committees heteby resolve to ap point a joint Sub-Committee to report on the following particulars:—■ “‘ 1. As to the documents that are of authority in the two Churches respectively, and that serve to define the position and principles of the two Churches: “‘2. As to the standing orders which should be adopted by the united committee for the regulation of their proceedings; and “ ‘ 3. As to the leading subjects which ap pear to require consideration in the view of following out the great object remitted to the two Couftnittees.’ “ The joint Committee' appoint Sir Henry Moncrieff and Mr. Beeket to act as their joint clerks. The joint Committee resolve that the joint Sub-Committee shall consist of ten members, five to be appointed by each of the Committees, with the addition of the two clerks—the clerks to be joint conveners. The joint Committee then engaged in con versation with reference to the matters that had been remitted to the joint Sub-Commit tee. The joint Committee instruct the con veners of the two committees to intimate in a suitable manner to the Reformed Presby terian Synod, and to the Original Secession Synod, the action which has now been taken by the committee of the Free and United Presbyterian Churches, with a view of afford ing to each of these bodies an opportunity of entering into communication with the joint committee. The joint committee now ad journ to meet again in this hall on the last Tuesday of July, at twelve o’clock noon; and the sederunt was closed with prayer. “H. Wellwood Moncrieff, Joint Clerk.” Michel Chevalier is engaged, by com mand of Napoleon III;, an a large work on the internal resources of Mexico, drawn from reports prepared by special messengers, and out for the purpose in the train of the French army of invasion.
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