M VII. No. 52.—Whole No. 364.
ffiWttfg*
HE LEADS HIS OWN.
*‘l will Lead them in paths they have not known. ’ ’
—-Isiah, xliii: 16 • ■
How few, who, from their youthful day,
Look on to what their life may be,
Painting the visions of the way
In colors soft, and bright, and free;
How few, who to such paths have brought
The hopes and dreams of early thought 1
For Gad, through ways they have not known,
Will lead his own.
The eager hearts, the souls of fire,
Who pant to toil for God and man.
And view with eyes of keen desire
The upward way of toil and pain:
Almost with scorn they think of rest,
Of holy calm, of tranquil breast,
But God, through ways they have not known,
Will lead his own.
A lowlier task on them is kid,
With love to make the labor light;
And there their beauty they must shed,
On quiet homes, and lost to sight.
Changed are their visions high and fair,
Yet calm and still they labor there;
l<or God, through ways they have not known,
Will lead hkown.
The gentle heart, that thinks with pain,
It scaroe.oan lowliest tasks fulfill,
And if it dares its life to scan,
Would ask a pathway low and still;
Often such lowly heart is brought
To act with power beyond its thought;
For God, through ways they have not known,
Will lead his own.
And they, the bright, who long to prove,
In joyous path, in cloudless lot,
How fresh from earth their grateful love
Can spring, without a stain or spot:
Often such youthful heart is given
The path of grief to walk to heaven;
For God, through ways they have not known,
Will lead his own.
What matter, where the path may be?
The end is clear, and bright to view;
We know that we a strength shall see,
What’er the day may bring to do.
We see the end, the house off God,
But not the path to that abode;
For God, through ways they have not.known,
Will lead Ms own.
THE LIBERTIES OF GENEVA
SIXTH I’APEE.
In the six years, 1519—1535, of darkness
which followed the capture of Geneva, the re
linquishment of the alliance with Friburg and
the murder of Berthelier by the bastard bishop,
some gleams of light appear. Brave men were
in that little city,' who could not be appalled by
shocking examples of persecution. Aime Lev
rier, the upright judge, was so deeply in love
with justice that he could not hold his peace.
“ God made man free,” said Levrier, “ ages have
made Geneva free; no prince has the right to
make ns slaves.)” He even started to Roine tn
petition the pope to remote the bishop; and
though he never was allowed to perform his
errand, Leo acknowledged the injustice of the
bishop’s conduct by compelling, hint to remain
away from Geneva during the rest of his life,
and to select a coadjutor—a grievous blow' to
the bishop and his friends. At the next elec
tion for Syndics, the' citizens asserted their
rights under the ancient constitution to elect
their chief officers, and ignored the changes in
troduced by the Duke, whicßforbade the exer
cise of these rights. But the circumstances
were so unfavorable, that they simply elected
as Syndics those whom the Mameluke Council
had already designated.
In imposing the war-tax rendered necessary
by the resistance offered the army of the Duke,
the priests of Geneva were assessed. Notwith
standing their wealth, they refused to pay.
They still farther exasperated the people by
procuring an order from the Pope citing the
chief magistrates of the republic to appear be
fore him, to render an account of the tax they
had dared to levy upon the priests. A copy of
the citation was pasted on the door of St.
Peter’s Church. Great was the indignation of
the people at the meanness of the debauched
and indolent priesthood. They had heard how
Luther treated the Pope’s bulls. They de
clared themselves no longer so frightened at
these once formidable instruments. Geneva
was shaking hands with Wittemburg. The
priests, startled by the njme of Luther, the
great enemy of their hierarchy, began to make
long processions to the Church of our Lady out
side the city walls. Seriously, and yet with a
certain broad humor, such as often appeared
among the great movements of the Reforma
tion, it was proposed by some of the citizens;
while they were gone on this business, to shat
the gates on the baeks of suet a worthless,
covetous population, which Geneva could so
well afford to be withput. , The monks hearing
of their proposal, returned hastily and in affright
to the city, but were not molested. This bold
proposition, which would at the same time have
been what is called “a capital joke,” started by
a few men of decision, has been considered—
D’Aubigne thinks wrongly—a prelude to the
Reformation in Geneva. The preaching of the
Gospel was the true .prelude; that had not
come yet. , - , !■
DEATH OF THE BISHOP.
At length the horrible caricature of a minis
ter, who had been set over them as the tool of
tyranny, and who fulfilled his task with inhu
man zeal, was called to his dread account. We
give the whole animated and graphic picture of
his closing hours as drawn by the historian.
The retribution which casts its dread shadows
before, and which darkened the last hours of a
Voltaire and a Charles IX., was experienced to
the full by this monster. '
“ Ere long another scene was enacted beyond
the Alps,. The miserable John of Savoy lay at
Piguerol on his death-bed. Given during his
life to the pleasures of the table and of debauch
ery, he was now paying the penalty of his mis
deeds, He suffered from the gout,- he was
covered with filthy ulcers, he was little more
than skin and bone. He had thought only of
enjoying life and oppressing others; be had
plotted the ruin of a city of which he should
have been the pastor; he now received the wa
ges of his iniquity. Hear the bed where this
prelato lay languishing stood his coadjutor, who
had hastened from Geneva to Piguerol. With
eyes fixed upon the dying*mah, Pierre sought
to buoy him up with false hopes; but John was
not to be deceived. Soon the dreaded moment
approached; an historian, whom Romish wri
ters quote habitually with favor, describes all
that was horrible in the end of this great sinner.
Hirelings surrounded the dying bishop, and
turned their eyes from time to time on him and
on the objects they might be able to carry off as --
soon as he was insensible. Pierre de la Baume ;
contemplated the progress of the disease with
ill-dissembled satisfaction, eagerly anticipating
the moment when, relieved from his hypoeriti- !
chi cares, he would enter into possession of all •
that he had coveted for so many years. Jean
Portier, the dying man’s secretary, the confi
dant of his successor, watched that criminal im
patience, that sordid cupidity, and that perverse
meanness, which he already hoped to turn to
his advantage. The shadows of the victims of !
the expiring man were traced on the walls of
the room by an avenging hand, and when at.
last the priests desired to administer extreme
unction, he imagined they were covering him
with blood. They presented him the crucifix;
He seemed to recognize the features of Berthe- 1
Her, and asked with a wild ioook, ‘Who has
done that?’ Far from embracing with respect ,
and submission , .this emblem of eternal salva
tion, he rejected it with horror, heaping foul
abuses on it. Blasphemy and insult mingled
with the foam that whitened his trembling lips.
Thus wrote an author less Romanist, we per
ceive, than is imagined. Repentance succeeded
despair in the guilty soul of the prelate before
his death. Turning a last look on his adopted
son, he said to him, ‘I wished to give the prin
cipality of Geneva to Savoy ... and to attain
my object, I have pat many innocent persons
to death.’ The blood that he had shed cried in
his ears: Navis, Blanchet, and Berthelier rose
up before him. Pursued by remorse, weighed
down by the fear of a Judge, he would have de
sired to save La Baume from the faults he had.
committed himself. ‘lf you obtain this bishop-,
ric,’ continued he, ‘ I entreat you not to tread
in my footsteps. On the contrary, defend the
franchises of the city . . . In the sufferings I
endure, I recognize the vengeance of the Al- ’
mighty ... I pray to God for pardon from the
bottom of my heart ... In purgatory .
God will pardon me!’ It is gratifying to hea£
this cry of an awakening conscience at the ter-!
mination of a criminal life. Unfortunately
Pierre de la Baume did not profit by this
solemn advice. The bastard died after horrible
sufferings, ‘inflicted by the, divine judgment,’
says Bonivard, ‘ and he went into the presence
of the Sovereign to plead with those whose
blood he had shed.’—‘At the time of his death,
he was so withered,’ adds the prior of St. Vic
tor, ‘that he did not, weigh five and twenty;
pounds.’ The prophecy of Peeolat was- ful
filled : Von videbit dies Petri. Instead, of
twenty-five years, the Episcopacy Of John of
Savoy had only lasted nine.”
It was a year before the new bishop, La
Baume, entered the city, which he did, ,April::
11th, 1523, amid great festivities and high
hopes on the part of all classes. He was a.de-.
ceiver, an Unstable man who was easily wont
to do the Duke’s bidding. Shortly after, the
Duke himself, with his Portugese bride, Bea
trice, honored the city with :his presence.
What ; with rich gifts, festivities and seductions 1
of every sort he had almost hopelessly corrupted
the hearts of the people.
On the 2d of December the infant son whom
he had. expected, and whom he wished the Ge
nevans to welcome as their prince, was born to
him, “As he was born in Geneva,” said the
courtiers one to another, “ the citizens cannot
refuse him for their prince.” It seemed likely,
that the Duke, in the prevailing apathy, would
secure the prize which he coveted, by the ac
quiescence of the majority. . Among the;few
who, like Levrier, still remained true to the an
cient rights and liberties, new martyrs were de
manded. “God only remained,” said Bonivard,
“but while Geneva slept he kept watch for
her.”-
CHAPLAIN’S BROWN’S TRIBUTE TO
CHAPLAIN WYATT. .
“ Camp Nelson,” Heckman's Bridge, Ky., Aug. iStklSS*.
Dear ■ Editor Upon the arrival of the
100th "Reg. P. V., (“ Roundheads,”) at this
point yesterday, mails reached us dating, till
quite lately. They are with exceptions our
latest dates since those of the 19th ultimo,
which reached us a . day or two previous to
bidding farewell to Mississippi, on the Ist of
August.
With melancholy interest I read in,yours of
July 30th, _ the just tribute to Chaplain J. C.
Wyatt, from the pen of Dr. McLeod. It is
but becoming that I should add, a few words
to the memory of a brother and fellow laborer,
through various scenes of toil and discourage
ment, in the- midst of which whatever of con
tact and fellowship was afforded to us # served
still more to endear him to me; and to cause
regret for his early loss to- the cause of his
country and the church of Christ, I mingle
my sincere regrets, with brethren in the flesh
and in the Lord, who in so many various circles
have again so sadly to bow before a work wo
cannot understand ; beholding, how God spares
the dry and cuts down the green. His regiment
the ,79th X. Y. S. M. (Highlanders) had been
since Oct. 16th, 1861, as they still are, closely
associated with the 100th P. V. I was de-„
lighted to hail him as a fellow-laborer on his
first appearance with the regiment in Beaufort,
S. C., early during the following winter. We
passed together through the scenes of James
Island, and thb campaigns in Virginia and
Maryland, and again in Virginia, under Pope,
McClellan and Burnside. In the close of last
March, the 9th Corps was transferred to Ken
tucky. Thence Chaplain Wyatt obtained
“ leave of absence” from Gen. Burnside to attend
Ibe meeting of his Synod; and I, to visit my ;
family. Our regiments were transferred to- '
Grunt’s Department in the rear of Vicksburg
during these “leaves;” and it thus resulted
that on my long voyage southward after my
rdgiment, I encountered him in Memphis. He
hailed me from the Champion,” as I was
walking along the wharf bn the afternoon of
Juiie 18th. We had reached that point on
different boats. I found him ill as he supposed
(though erroneously) with camp fever. Dr.
Ludington, of the 100th P. y. f Medical Director
of the Division, having been my fellow traveler
down the Mississippi, I took him to Chaplain
Wyatt, who immediately advised that he should
remain in Memphis, and gave him a “ pass” to'
the officers’ hospital; whither I conducted him
PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, AUGUST 27, 1863.
the same evening. There was nothing appa
rently dangerous in his immediate symptoms;
and I left him full-of hope that the rest, the
refreshing airs fanning the bluff on which the
city is built, and even the busy life visible from
the hospital on the wharf, with the medical
attendance and nursing, would, after some
weeks, restore :him to health. Brother Wyatt
spoke jn.no terms of discouragement of himself
personally ; but expressed his grief over the
intemperance, profanity and general ungodli
ness, to the sight and sound of whigh this
service exposes us, and especially “breaking
camp, ’’ and on the passage through large cities.
Trying indeed on health and life was our cam
paign in Mississippi. Upon our return from
Jackson previous to our embarkation oil the
Yazoo River for our return voyage, I was
saddened to learn of his death. Let me join
in expressing the wish that the body may be
interred in one of the cemeteries of,the great
metropolis; where the veterans of his regiment’
when they* return to the city they represent
after this war is over, may sometimes, seeing his
grave, have their recollections quickened of the
truths he taught them—and the. life by which
he exemplified those-truths; and utter a prayer
that the influence of his young and noble life
maynot be lost on them and the world. He was
a man of modesty, courage ’and clearness,’ with
a good’intellect and culture. He was singularly
free from vanity, the sin of small minds. He
labored for his Master, hot for himself. The
more the one dbos the world the more he re
spects such men; and Mourns theft departure,
for he finds their number rarer, alas, than be
supposed. ' ' " \
I remain your brother in the Gospel,
Robt. Acdley Browne,
Chaplain 100th Reg. P. V., 9th Army Corps;
THE REVOLUTION IN MADAGASCAR.
Later and toiler accounts of the revoluion in.
Madagascar differ materially from the first news,,
arid the apprehensions of, the friends of Chris-,
tianity are now quite relieved. We extract the
following .from a long letter dated May 16th,
and written,by Rev. Wm. Ellis, the well-known
missionary on the Island:
Seldom Fas the instability of human affairs
been more strikingly, and, in some respects, tra
gically manifested than in the events of the :
last few days iri this city. Within that period
the reign of -’Radama 11. has closed with his
life; a successor has been chosen by the nobles
and accepted by the people; a-new form of go
vernment has been inagurated, and it is ar
ranged that the legislative and administrative,
functions of the sovereignty shall hereafter, be.
discharged by the sovereign, the nobles, arid'
the heads of the people jointly. ■ A seriosof re
solutions, embodying what may'be regarded as
the germs of constitutional government, has
been prepared and presented by the nobles and
heads of the people to the queen, 1 coritaining
the conditions on whieß they offered her the
crown; The acceptance of these, conditions by
Rabodo, and their due observance ,by the no
bles and heads of the people, attested by
the signatures of the queen and the chief of the
nobles, before the forriier was announced to the
people as their toture sovereign, and proclaimed
under the title of Rasoaherena, Queen of Ma
dagascar. The death of Radama, the offer
off acceptance, of the crown, and, the proclama
tion of the present ruler as queen, all occurred
oh Tuesday, the 12th inst.
’■ Within the last two or three months extra
dinary efforts have been'made to bring the
king;s mind underi the influence of the old su
perstitions of the country, and these have sue
seeded to an extent which has resulted in his
ruin. Within this period a sort of mental epi
demic has appeared in the adjacent provineed*
and in the capital; The subjects of this dis
ease pretended ,to be unconscious of their ac
tions, and to be unable to refrain from leaping,
running, dancing, etc.
To the surprise of his best friends, the king
was ’exceedingly interested in this strange
movement, seemed to believe the pretended
me.ssage from the world of spirits, and encou
raged the frantic dancers who daily thronged
his house, and declared that the disease would
contiiiue to increase till “the praying" was
stopped. : - ' •-
’ iLwas then proposed, to, assassinate, a number
of Christians, as a means of stopping the pro
gress of Christianity, and also,to kill the chief
nobles who Opposed. the king’s proceedings.
With a view of increasing the influence of this
fanatical party, the king issued an order that
all persons meeting any of the so-called: sick
should take off their hats, and thus show .them
the same mark of respect as was formerly given
to the national idols when they were carried
through the City/ With the view also of shield
ing the perpetrators of the intended murders,
the king announced his intention to issue an
order, or law, that any person or persons wish
ing to fight with fire-arms, swords, or spears,
should not be prevented, and that if any one
were killed the murderer should’not be pu
nished.! This alarmed the whole community.
The nobles and heads of the people spent the
day (May 7th) in deliberating on,,the course,
they should pursue, and the nextmorning the
prime minister, with about one hundred bf the
nobles and heads of the people, including the
eommander-in-chief, the king’s treasurer, and
the first officer of the palace, went to the king,
and remonstrated against his legalizing murder,
and besought him most earnestly not to issue
such order. It is said that the prime minister
went on his kness before him, and begged him
not to issue his obnoxious Jaw; -but he re
mained unmoved. The minister then rose and
said to the king: i
“Do yon say before all these witnesses that
if any man is going to fight with another fire
arms, sword, or spear, that ! you will not prevent
him, and that if he kills any one he shall not be
punished?” ,
The king replied, “ I agree to that.”
' “ Theb,” said the minister, “It is enough; we
must arm;” and, turning to his folio said,.
“ Let us return.” I saw the long procession
as they passed my house, grave and, silent, on
their way to the piinister’s dwelling. The day
was spent in deliberation, and they determined
to oppose the king. ' ' r :
The city was in commotion; all night women
■ and children, and slaves, with portable valuables,
were hurrying from the city, while crowds of
armed men from the: suburbs were crowding
into it. At .daybreak on the 9th some two
thousand or more troops occupied Andobalb;
The ground around the prime minister’s house,'
on the summit of the . northren crest of the
mountain close by,: was filled with soldiers,
every avenue to the city was securely
kept by the minister’s troops. The first object
of the nobles was to secure upward of thirty
of the more obnoxious-of the Mena maso,
whom they accused of being the advisers
and abettors of the king in his unjust and
injurious measures. 1 A number of these were
taken and killed, a number fled, hut twelve
or thirteen remained with the king. Th'ese
the nobles required should be surrendered to
them. The king refused, but they threatened
to take them' by force from the palace, to which
he had removed. Troops continued to pour in
frqpii adjacent and distant posts; and, as the
few soldiers with the, king refused to fire on
those surrounding the palace, the people though
pitying the king, did not take up arms in his
defense. He consented at length to surrender
the Mena maso, bn condition that their lives
Should be spared, and that they should be eon
fined for life in fetters. On Monday, the ,11th,
they were marched by Ando,halo,, on their way
to .the spot where the irons were to be fixed on
their limbsi ’ A* ,
In : the course of th%;vdiscusSioii : with the
nobles, the king had sam‘ he alone was sover
eign, his word.,alon,e,wp law, his person was
sacred, he was su pern sit urally protected, and
would punish severely the opposers of his will.
This fed the nobles to determine that it was
not safe for him to live; and ‘hb died by their
hands the next morning within the palace.
The queen, who alone was with him, used every
effort to the last moment of his life, to save him,
but in vain. His advisers, the Mena maso,
were aftiiward putjto'deatb. '
In the course oU the’ 1 ; forenoon four of the
chief nobles went to the queen with a written
paper, whichthey handed to; her, as expressing
the terms or conditions on which, for the future
the country should be governed. They re
quested her to read it, stating thiit if she con
sented to govern according to these conditions
they were willing that she should be the sover
eign of the country, but,.that if she objected or
declined they-must seek another ruler. , The
queen, after reading thp document, and listen
ing to it, and receivingfexplanations on one or
two points, expressed her full and entire consent
to-.govern according ito the plan therein set
forth,; .The nobles then said, “We also bind
ourselves by this agreement. If we break it,
we shall be guilty of treasbh; and if you break
it, we shall do as we have done.” The prime
minister then signed the document, on behalf
of the nobles and-heads of the people, and the'
queen signed it also;: tThe chiefs of the nobles
remained in the palace, and, between one and
two o’clock, the firing of cannon announced the
commencement of the ne>v reign.
RELIGIOUS CONDITIONOF JAMAICA
SINCE THE, EMANCIPATION.
.The difficulties which, the -first; Christian mis
sionaries to this islaud.met .with, the persecutions
they suffered, the dangeirs to which they were ex
posed and the mafvelloiis successes which they
achieved are well known. The wealth; power and'
influence of the island were leagued against them ,
yet they persevered; and the noble men,whom.
God raised up, as laborers here, lived to see noble
results of their toil. It is known that at the
time of Emancipation religion appeared tube
making giaut strides among the people. ‘ ; Many
thousands; were added to the churches,, and, new
churches were rapidly formed. Several causes,
which" are suflteiently apparent, operated at that*
time to produce results which, like their causes,
were transitory. Consequently after these influ- ■
ences ceased to exist-there was- a large falling
off in the numbers of church, members.;: Stricter
discipline was enforced, and many were excluded.
In the year .1851—2 the churches lost thousands
by cholera and small-pox. At this time there
was great concern-manifested about religion, but
soon there again appeared declension. Multitudes
who had professed religion under the influence
of fear, now went back. Then, after a while
came the remarkable awakening which was ex
perienced throughout the island in theyear 1860-1.
The excitement of that period has now passed
away, and we are able to look calmly, for the re
sults. .Some, perhaps, have been disappointed;
others have not. That work was unquestiona
bly a great blessing to us. Though many have
lost the feelings they then had, and many have
become worse than before; yet there remain a
iarge number who will always bless God for the
recent revival in Jamaica.
As regards the numbers the Chutch of Eng
land would of course figure highest, and for ob
vious reasons. Then come Baptists, Wesleyans,
Presbyterians, Moravian.-;, Independents and
others. I believe there was a decrease last year,
both amongst the Wesleyans and Presbyterians;
chiefly owing to the numbers who withdrew or
fell into sin, after the excitement produced at
the time of the revival liad passed away. This
has been the case in connection with;all denomi
nations. ...
, In all the churches in the Baptist Union
there are about 25,000 members and inquirers ;
and reckoning other Baptist churches, not in the
Union, there caimot be less than 30,000 members
arid inquirers. On a very moderate calculation,
I .think.6o,ooo may be set,.down as members* of
other denominations, | Then if we take halj; the,
number of members, as representing the number
of young persons and others, who are attendants
at public; worship, we shall have 135,000, or
nearly one third of the entire- population con
nected with the various denominations, lit the
above I have hot noticed Roman Catholics or
Jews. In connection with the congregations of
the above ’denominations,' thousands' of pounds
are contributed annually for the support and
spread of the Gospel. Sabbath and day schools
are. also regularly sustained. The latter are, far
from being attended as the friends of education
desire, but have undoubtedly done, and are still
doing'a gfeat’work. i
-Though there is.-much'that calls for continued,
renewed and great effort,,and many evils still to
be,deplored, yet how great is the change which
the last twenty years have wrought! .Nearly
350,000 rhen, women and children have been
ehauged from “things” to human beings, "face
and degradation have largely been displaced by
virtue; and religion. Bleu have learned to know
the difference between the task of a brute and the
free, honest labor of the man. The dark sha
dows of ignorance, which dwelt with Slavery,
have been largely driven away by the bright eye
of Liberty. The Sabbath market has given place
to the house of God. The word of God is now
read by thousands who would- once have been
subject to the most horrid cruelties had they
even tried to learn to read.“ How many are now
preparing forja life abpve the stars and amongst
the angels, who, if left to the tender 'mercies .of
the oppressor, would have lived as brutes, and
died—-may I say ?—only to find that they Were
immortal! Surely we may well say, how great
the change!. All those who rightly estimate
man’s, value as an intellectual and immortal
who see in the soul and mind that which
far outweigh the fruits of the . soil and the for
tunes of the rich; even if the latter should pass
away in exchange for the welfare of the former
those who value the glories of eternity more than
the tinsel of earth, will say, Thank God for the
change which has been accomplished.
In dosing I may quote the language of the
Rev. J. Brown, who speaking’ of these things
says, “From what have they grown ? What is
the power that has pioduced these settled habits
and order ?—lt is not force of arigs ; it is not
physical power.- , If you meet with ruined
estates and ruined houses, you meet with deserted
barracks too. There is less need for military
. power now than there was in the days of slavery.
It is hot by the whip that the people are kept in
order ; it is not by the’terror of hanging in the
air that they are kept quiet-; Whence has come
-the; power, that tames them? and what is the
authority,that keeps tliemin, order? for they
might be very wild and vicious there if they
would. I claim it for religion. They have
nothing to be thankful for hut the Gospel. They
owe whatever they have that is worth, anything ,
: to religion. In these facts; —in that social order
—%e have the fruits of our past labors ; ;the la
bors of men who are living,, and the labors of
men who are dead. ‘
GREENWOOD AND ITS DEAD,
After several glimpses of Greenwood gained ,
from carriage windows, we set out the other
day, to explore it more thoroughly on foot. An
afternoon spent in strolling from one scene of
djpvelipesß toanothet convinced us of the
.superiority o£ this cemetery to another, yvheth-. *
,er abroad.or in America, (hat we have yet visit? ,
edl Its three, grand features are picturesque ,
variety of upland and valley, its enchanting
bursts of water-view from so many points, and
its vast growth of stately trees of the best:
American varieties. To our grandchildren, ■
Central Park will be a peerless spot, but to us,
no skilful disposition of fairy bridges, or-of rich
shrubberies, can atone for the lack of such oaks
as glorify Hyde Park, or such a superb forest
as crowns the many heights of Greenwood. Let
.the visitor-but halt. a moment on the; hill that
is covered by the Pierrepont family-tomb (an
antique brown stone structure) and he will sec
anfessemblage of oaks worthy of Ohio or Wis
consin; ’• ; • ' .
The most bewitching spot tous in-Greenwood
is the vale of “Dale,Water.” It is a spot.to
dream about. Here, said we to ourselves,
Washington Irving should have laid—here in
this most Arcadian centre of his native city’s
burial-place—here where his grateful country
men could have lingered around the ashes of
their most illustrious man of letters. Eat alas 1
the most celebrated sons of New York do not
slumber in Greenwood. Pulton and Clinton,
the founders of the material grandeur of the Me
tropolis, lie elsewhere ; so do Marcy and Alex
ander Hamilton and; .the Livingstons; Silas
Wright.is buried among the hills of St. Law
rence, and Irving at the entrance of his own
“ Sleepy Hollow. ” Some of these ihen were pot
natives of the Excelsior State, but their lives
are identified with her growth and her glory.
After several hours of exploration of Greenwood,
we could not find on all of its tens of thousands
of monuments, more, than a.dozen names that
are widely known even throughout our own
country. Dr. Samuel L. Mitchel, the chemist
—bis illustrious namesake the hero-astronomer
who fell, at Port Hoyal—and.,Dr. Bethune are
among the most celebrated of the, occupants of
this beautiful city of the dead. The present -war
is contributing its heroes; and we observed that
the workmen were already putting up a fine
granite monument to the brave Lieut. .Harry
Hidden, who fell at Sangster’s Station in Vir
ginia. He is represented in bronze bas-relief
on the pedestal; the tomb is close by " Crescent
.Water.”- • ■ : ■■■: '■'■■■■
; Among the myriad of monuments at Green- ■:
wood are several of rare beauty ; several; are
sought out too for their eccentric designs or in
scriptions. The two molt visited tombs are
those of bluff Capt. -Oorreja, stands over
his vault in cap'and ‘/ sou’ wester " with his
quadrant in hand, taking an observation; and
of a fair young girl who was killed by a fall
from .her carriage. Her monument is Parisian
in its style, and lacks the simplicity that should,
belong to the burial place, of “ sweet seventeen.”
We rather like the sea-captain’s monument for
its individuality and descriptiveness; as the old'
man is still living, we imagine { that he is em
ploying the quadrant to determine the bearings
of his life voyage.
There is an improvement in the taste of mon
umental inscriptions in our great cemetery. The
fulsome eulogies—that were often false enough
to make the marble blush—are now generally
omitjted. • There is less, disposition, too, to in
scribe,the tombs of children with theirpet names,
such as “ Our Willie,” and “ Our Bennie.” The
simple name and date, with a line or two of
Scripture, or of elegiac poetry, are‘most fre
quent ; but we would advise the Bible Society
to. send, a copy or two to the nmrble-cutters, so
shocking are many o( the misquotations. Sev
eral tombs bear the simple line “ Our Mother.”
On one, Crowned with a bust whose drapery is
transparent to the sunlight, is inscribed a brief,
dialogue between husband and wife in hed dy
ingl moments. • .No inscription touched us so ten
derly as the simple word “Good-night” on the -
tomb of a young wife. Perhaps this was her
last utterance as the twilight of the death valley
fell upon ; her advancing footsteps.
Among many; clusters of roses, myrtles, and
violets, we often discovered on the graves of'
God’s departed children this flower from, the
Holy Spirit’s own hand “ Blessd are the dead
that die in 'the Lord.” This is the amaranth
which angels wreath above the ashes of the
sainted dead. How redolent is it of Jesus’Jove,
how dewy with promises, how,,bright with a
lustre that palls and shrouds and funeral trap
pings can never dim, how it shines in the light
that falls from the sapphire walls of the New Je
rusalem ! Matchless line, that never grows old,
and never loses its heavenly freshness. If there
be any line which the invisible angels chant
above the sleeping dust of Christ’s ransomed, it
is this one which the Spirit taught to beloved
Jbhn. Not as a dreary dirge do. they chant it;
not asa melancholy requiem. It is a jubilant
paean of triumph over those whose achievement
is complete; whose perils are past, whose work
is done, whose sufferings are over.
To no living man is such a blessing vouch
safed. For his probation is not yet ended.
He is still, liable to fall into grievous sin and to ■
bring dishonor on his Christian name. But the -
dead in Christ are safe. With them there is
no risk of failure, no danger of apostacym As ..
Daniel Webster said of Massachusetts at Bun
ker Hill, “the past at.least is secure.” The,be
liever on whom death has set his seal is safe.
John never can grow cold to the heart-ijeat of
his Master’s bosom. Luther shall never’* quail
before Popes, or John Knox before royal bigots.
Calvin shall never retract one line of his defense
of : God’s sovereignty; nor shall. Wilberforce
ever loose his hold on the fettered hand of the
bondman. Blessed are the holy dead ! They
have come out of great tribulation; their robes
are made white in the blood of the Lamb. They
hunger no more, neither thirst any more; all 1
tears are wiped away forever from tfieir eyes.
,Wi|h these celestial words floating around us
on the twilight air, we turned away from Green
wood’s silent beds—over which the birds were
twittering their evening carols—and halting at
the arched gate we bade many a dear old friend
good-night. , T. L. C.
THE PRESENT AND FUTURE*
Once, in a large and crowded city there was
heard, at the dead hour of midnight, the start
ling cry that the city was in flames. The bells
tolled the alarm, the watchmen ran from house
to house to arouse the slumbering inmates, and ’
others attempted, but without effect, to arrest
the progress of the wasting conflagration.. The
affrighted citizens started d'rom their beds, and
rushed forth from their dwellings, leaving behind
them all their costly treasures, and anxious only
to save their lives. The sky above was lighted
up with a lurid glare, the houses were falling in
rapid succession, the dense clouds of smoke were
driven violently on the wings of the wind, the
devouring fire advanced in its destructive course,
and every heart trembled with anxiety and terror.
There was one house in the city which'at
tracted every eye, and rivetted the attention of
, the crowds who filled the streets. In that house
; there was one individual who had not been
; awakened out of sleep, and instantly a ladder was
raised to his window, and a generous friend, at
the risk of his life, ascended to awak’e and save
the sleeper He-saw him slumbering in hisbed,
and surrounded by the flames. He urged him
to flee for his life and. cried to him, “it is high
time to awake out of sleep.” But the sleeper
| heeded him not—he looked wildly around, and
;bade him begone, and laid himself down to sleep
.on his. burning pillow. His generous friend was
'compelled to .leave him- to his fate, and, soon
after, he perished in the. flames—the victim, of
his own. obstinacy, and the destroyer of his own
life.
(That man was a maniiic, in whose soul the
lamp of reason had .been extinguished, and we
cease to wonder at his obstinacy and ignorance.
Bat, oh, how can r wonder ever cease in relation
to. those who consider not, neither appreciate the
connection subsisting between time and; eternity!
How intimate is this connection ! The one is
the efflorescence of the other. Time is the twi
light, of an everlasting noon to come, or of an
everlasting night to fall. As the one is, so. the
other will be. Influences which are receded
every day by all of: ns, gentle in their approach,
but mighty in their> action, are leaving effects
behind which will be felt forever. Death,
which ends time and begins eternity, is not the
arrest or alteration of our course, but the con
tinuance of it. The body is dropped as the
tent is struck, or buried, and the spirit pursues
its journey, gazing into that unsounded futurity
that stretches far and wide before it. .If our
character be righteous and holy now, it will ad
vance in the same direction forever, blooming in
greater beauty and exhaling richer fragrance^—
The pilot who has steered it safely through the
rapids of time, will conduct it to the peaceful
haVen of eternity, and perfect it there. He who
is Driest, and Prophet, and King, will guide us
from grace to glory, and make us like Himself,
for we shall see him as he is.
And how great is the importance which this
consideration stamps on our present existence,
and on all we say and do. We are building up
an immortal nature, we are accepting impulses
before which, we shall move forever, we are im
bibing influences and hues as fixed as our, being.
For heaven of hell, for happiness or misery, all
things are preparing ns, and every step is taking
us. Every analogy or experience we become
acquainted with, teaches this lesson. Habit is
the act of yesterday added to the act of to-day—
an accumulating force gradually building up a
character which will endure forever. Youth
makes manhood, and manhood old age, and we
can read the earlier in. the latter, the young man
in the oldl The same law of,continuity runs be
yond the world, and in the joys of the saved, or
in the miseries of the . lost, we may, read the
character, acquired, and exhibited here. The
one is the reproduction of. the other for ever .and
ever.- ' : ' ■/
Thus true is it, that
‘‘Time is'eternity,
Pregnant with all eternity can give,
Pregnant with all that makes archangels smile, ~
Who murders time, he crashes in the birth
A power ethereal, only not ador’d.”
A PRACTICAL SERMON
The has been handed us, cut from
another paper. It is some' time, we presume,
since the incident occurred, but it may be “as
good as new 1 .”
A number of yearn ago, Parson B-
preached in a certain town which need not be
named. A sound theologian was Parson B- ,'
as a published volume of his sermons evinces;
but,. like many clergymen of the ; past genera
tion, he was too mueh given to preaching “ doc
trinal sermons,” to the exclusion of practical
themes; at least, so thought one of his parishio
ners, Mr. 0 —. ,
“ Mr. B- -,’i said he one day to the clergy
man, “we know all about the doctrines by this
time. Why don’t you give us some
tical discourses ?” •
‘ “ Oh, very well. If you wish it I shall do
so. Next Sabbath I will preach a practical
sermon.” i
..Sabbath morning came, and an unusually
large audience, attracted by the report of the
promised novelty, were in attendance. The
preliminary services were performed, and the‘
parson announced his text. “ Opening his sub
ject,” he said he should make a practical appli
cation to his hearers.
He then commenced at the head of the aisle,
calling each member of the congregation by
niime, and pointing out his special faults.
, One was a little inclined to indulge in crea
ture comforts; another was a terrible man at a
bargain, and so on. While mid-volley, the
door of the church .opened, and Dr. S en
tered..
* “There,” went on the parson, "there is Dr.
S——- coming in, in the middle of the ser
vice, just as usual, and disturbing the entire
congregation.- He does it just to make the peo
ple believe that he can’t get time to come to
church in season; but it is not so—he has not
been called to visit a patient on a Sabbath morn
ing for three mouths 1”
Thus went on the worthy clergyman. At
last he came to Mr. , who had requested
a practical sermon.
“And noiv there is Mr. 0— . He is a
merchant. What does he do ? Why, he stays
at home on Sabbath- afternoon to write business
letters! If he gets a lot of goods up from New
York on Saturday night, he goes to the store
and marks- themon Sabbath, so as to have them
all ready forisale on Monday morning 1 That’s
how he keeps the Sabbath 1 and he isn’t satis
fied with doctrinal sermons-Jhe wants practical
ones!”
At the conclusion of' the services the parson
walked up to Mr. C -, and asked him how
he liked the "practical sermon.”
L “Mr. B —was the reply, “preach
what you please after this. ' I shall never at
tempt to direct: you again.”
A RATIONAL SKEPTIC.
, w»Vemuient' lawyer of Western
New York,' who ‘ died a few years since in the
triumphs of, Christian faith, when a student in
the office of Judge -H——, was inclined to skep
tical views. His moral character was unsullied,
but in his ambitious aspirations be cherished that
dislike to the gospel which is'the hidden source
of nearly all infidelity. The eloquent ministra
tions of the sanctuary failed to remove the deep
ening gloom of unbelief.
One day while absorbed in the study of law,
his eye rested upon a copy of the Bible lying on
the table before hitti. He paused,' and’ the
thought came like the' voice of an invisible spec
tator to his soul—“ What if that book is the
Word of God I” Then, his. conscience inquired
if ho had, with the earnestness and honesty be-
GENESEE EVANGELIST.—WhoIe No. 901.
coming the momentous question, examined its
claims to his faith. He was condemned at the
bar,of that inward judge and monitor, and he re
solved to begin a careful perusal of the sacred
voliiine. The duty and propriety of prayer to
the “Father of Lights,” for illumination, were
impressed on Ms mind, and for the first time in
his life he solemnly entered on the reading of
the Scriptures and oh closet communion with
God; Inalew days he became an anxious sinner. '
and he very soon rejoiced in the love of Christ,
He made a full consecration of himself to the
Redeemer, in a written covenant copied from
Doddridge, and found among his papers after his
death, and for more than 20' years was an active,
growing Christian. In the court room and social
Circle his consistent piety revealed itself, calm
and clear, beneath the excitements and pleasures
of life’ 1
Truly “atheism, is a crime, rather than a mere
intellectual error”' and so is all fatal unbelief.
The heart is wrong, and the head refuses to re
ceive orseekjtbe light of the -cross. This view
of the skeptical and seornful gives fearful import ’
to the prophet’s*question—“What wilt thon say ■
when He shall punish thee?”
LABORS AMONG THE WOUNDED.
The Rev. Die. Monfort thus closes a, descrip
tion of a visit which he recently made fe Gettys
burgh:
We Radian appointment to preach in the
White Church (Lutheran) Hospital on Sabbath,
and we shall never forget the occasion. The
house was well filled. Loose. floors had been
laid on the top of the pews, and the wounded
were lying on straw beds so close as only to leave
room for the surgeons and nurses to pass be
tween them. Some were groaning with pain,
some asleep, some reading and others having
their wounds dressed. As soon as singing had •
commenced all were attentive. In prayer many
cries for mercy were heard, and many responses
also of trust and hope were ejaculated by woun
ded Christian soldiers. One of the most thril
ling meetings we ever attended was in the
Presbyterian cliureh in Gettysburg, in which
we had preached two years ago. The services
were, conducted by Geo.H. Stuart of Philadel
phia, President of the Christian Commission.
The house is large, and it was filled with the .
wounded and others. The speaker, a layman
of the Covenanter Chnreh, made the most tender
and appropriate appeals to the suffering men, and
closed by singing, “ Am I a soldier of the cross.”
Every one felt, “ This is none other but the house
of God. This is the gate of heaven”—■ *
We hope that Christian people of the United
States will be more and more liberal in support
of the Christian Commission. The arrangements
for laborers and for the distribution of donations,
are of the best character, and are entitled to all
confidence. They are such that every good marg
in the country may give and he sure that his
benefactions shall reach the objects of his sym
pathy.
The efforts of the Roman Catholics. in behalf
of the wounded, and especially of their own ad
herents are worthy of all praise. Priests and
Sisters of Charity are everywhere to be seen
practising as much industry and self-denial as
any others; no one should lightly esteem their
efforts; , By, the way, we several times met Cap
tain Frederick Stowe, a son of Mrs. Harriet
Beecher Stowe, at the house of Mrs. Sarah Mon
fort, in Gettysburg. He is a Roman Catholic.
He was frequently visited by a priest, for whom
he sent, and on one occasion desired to be alone
with' him in some ceremony. His wound was
in the ear and head hear the ear, in reference to
which, on account of its location, he felt much
uneasiness, bat he,was soon convalescent. This
wgr hpAone much to secure a growth of kind
feelings towards Romanists who have done well
in the conflict and whose bishops and priests are,
some of them, among the most loyal and efficient
friends of the country. We are glad to know
that Roman Catholics have been well represented
in our hospitals, by labors and gifts for the
wounded. When the war is over all will ac
knowledge that Romanists are entitled to claim
a share in the credit of having preserved the
Union. '
We. had an opportunity of seeing something of
the labqrsof the Indiana Military Agent in behalf
of his State. Gcgr. Morton has done a good work in
this appointment, and we may say, from expres
sions made in our hearing, that many soldiers of
other States envy the care and kindness, and the
saying of expense which the Indiana soldier en
joys through this agency. ,
OUT OF DEBT
“Out of debt, out of danger,” remarks one of
onr exchanges, is a. good rule for individuals
and: churches. A modem writer says that the
Apostle was careful to owe no man anything,
and then asks: “ Had he been in debt to Felix,
does any one suppose he could have made Felix
tremble ?’,
There is great power in that independence of
man which one may feel who is out of debt
“ The borrower is servant to the lender. ” And
no church or individual can be wholly free from
the trammels df slavery, unless free from the bur
dens of such an evil and debt. This is the sea
son that many of our churches have improved
to deliver themselves Trom these burdens, and
the more rapidly and successfully they push
pn their, work, the better it will be for them
and the cause.
INFIDELITY.
An infidel meeting was recently held in Bos
ton. It was a sorry affair, made'up of a few
wrong-headed men and strong-minded, weak
faithed women. One of the resolutions proposed
andiadvocated was thm :
“ Resolved , That Infidelity is not always Athe
ism.” “It is popular error,” said the mover,
“to believe that every infidel is an atheist. The
fact is, we number as many shad® of opinion as
any other church. We are. Unitarians, Trinita
rians, .Deists, Pantheists, Atheists, Spiritualists,
and divers other ists and isms —in truth, we are
all things. but Plenary. Inspirationistsj” &c.
The financial affairs of the. body do not seem to
be flourishing. “The Report of the Treasurer
oi the Infidel Association of America” acknowl
edges “contributions received during the year,
seven dollars and fifty cents,” and “cash received
for sales of pamphlets, six dollars and ninety-five
cents!!’ ■ u.. ; /.. . .
TRIALS.
, It is the pruned church, like the pruned vine
that bears the most precious clusters; it is the
S ° Ul the .crushed aromatic plant,
that is the most fragrant.
r harp of David reserves its sweetest
notes -for dirges, and the pencil of the Holy
Sund dra H S ¥® htest Pictures on a dark
f• Wh ? IS a straQ g er to the depths of
diyme mercy is a stranger to the heights of divine
appStooi-fcr- 65^ relig !? us Joy-' Mannever
appears more glorious, nor God more eracions
Stati 6 -" 1 : proi>het "
one ?u atn , ess ’ Sa Y s Seneca, to have in
toe fraiity of man. and the security of God
jfeft spoken of gift.-—
the behalf of Christ
ndt only to believe on him, but also to suffer
is ’ and 1116l 116 Prediction of suffering
l ea Fords F ords o f the Master; “In the
woiid ye shall have tribulation.