M VIII. No. 4.—Whole No. 368. §fott*jr. THE CRIMSON TRIE. I passed through the woods one Autumn day, And watched the flushing' glory 01'oak and walnut and maple and fir, ,! And heeded their saddening story, The sermon they preached was searching and deep, But the beauty or their strain, r The glittering lines on the mountain steep, Hushed the troubled thoughts again. Picture worthy ol'artist dime, Where splendor heaped on splendor, Where lightness with dark, where sombre with gay, Where rocks and leafage tender, Where blue and green, and.golden and brown, Meit into an* artiste dream. ? And this pictured temple, myriad hned, Beared on the faded sod, * Made me Inwardly mnrtpur, in accents subdued, “Its Builder and Maker is God.” ' As I looked, I saw the color of blood, One tree with crimson dye Beached upward above the colbred flood, And touched tho gentle sky. Yet'twos a lmo from God’s own hand, His touch had set it there, TV ho could never impose on himself command lo mar a droum so fair. And so when I look on another scene, , The blessings of Home and Land, Ime flashing, golden, myriad tints, T he splendors on every hand, And see the solemn crimson of blood, It blends with the flashing glory, And GR>d’s own pencil throws a flood oflight on the saddening story, And though we sometimes sit and weep At the crimsoned waters flowing, At the crimsoned leaves on the mountain side, At the crimsoned sod slow growing, Yet this blending of tints, this sombre with gay, Beveals the hand of the Lord, And we gladly, and yet alt solemnly say, Its Maker and Builder is God. ■~Springfidd Republican. #lit®frisL THE LIBERTIES OF GENEVA. EIGHTH PAPER. A tendency of events to repeat themselves has been noticed in the course of our war against the rebellion. There have been two battles o? Pea- Eidge, of Corinth, and of Fredericksburg; two attempts at invasion of the North, two rebel defeats and retreats, with pursuits more or less fruitless, until a second time the rebel army under Lee has halted for recuperation about the head waters' of the...Rappahannock, and stretched its lines towards Fredericksburg. The student of the early history of the Liber ties of Geneva is. surprised to find the course of events running a secorid time in the same channels. The duke of Savoy again, in 1525, approaches stealthily with an army; again en deavors to secure a voluntary, surrender of the liberties of the city; again is foiled by the fugi tive. Huguenots who enlist the Swiss-in its be half'and form a new ulliance withthe Cantons; again the unscrupulous but irresolute prince abandons his designs and withdraws, but this time forever from the coveted city. After the midnight murder of the upright Levrier, in March 1524, Charles, disturbed by the indignation of the citizens, withdrew for a time from Geneva. Emboldened, by his ab sence the patriots again raised their heads. They had lost Berthelier and Levrier, but Pro vidence which ever takes care:that brave spirits and competent leaders shall not be wanting to good causes in the critical hour," gave them, in Besabeon H ugues, the very man they required for tie new campaign. It was determined to "send a delegation to ap peal to the Pope against the attacks of Savoy; tho bishop pf Geneva, whose rights were also in volved, was requested to pass the mountains and support the cause of G’enevi at Home. But neither the delegation nor the Bishop ever reached that city; the bishop put.off the citi zens with fair promises, and squandered the gold given by them to pay his expenses; the court of Turin found means to divert the atten tion of the delegates. Geneva was still left alone, and compelled to look to other than Popish sources for defence. * Charles again approached the confines of Genevan territory with his* army. Fruitless as had been the appeal to the Pope, he could not abide it and he sent a deputation to the city to request its withdrawal. The Mamelukes were still in the majority in thd eouueil, and by a vote of 58 to 42, bis request was agreed to. The party of independence was vanquished. The minority wore proscribed men. As the duke drew near with his army, they sought safety in flight to Switzerland.' It was almost like the abandonment of Athens by the patriotic citizens, unable to resist the advance of Xerxes; The best men of the city fled like hunted slaves before a; tyrant. Some crept along the edge of tho lake, others hastened toward the, mountains. They sought unfrequented by-roads, they flung themselves into the woods and sealed the rocks. They lay concealed .by day and travelled by night. Oftentimes, im those narrow Alpine de files, the road wound about on the face of the precipices, so that pursuers and pursued being sometimes on ‘opposite slopes, might see and even hear one’another, although there was an abyss between them. The great majority of these noble fugitives escaped to a place of safety. The Fri • burgers sent out an ..escort of thirty horsemen to conduct them beyond the reach' 1 of ’ their pursuers. ' ' “ Melancholy dispersion,” exclaims tHe'histo rian, “sad calamity. And yeti as they departed, these generous, men kept Up.the hope of seeing liberty victorious. In this dread and critical hour, they cast their eyes over the walls ot the old city, and swore that they lett it not to es cape death, hut to gave it from oppression. They'were going in search of help,—not to wards the enslaved banks of the Tiber, as they did once lit their folly; lint towards those noble mountains of Switzerland which had thrown off the yoke of foreign tyrants. The sword of Savoy pursues: them ; but wonderful providence of God I it drives them towards those couutries where a new light ,has dawned, and,where they, will meet at nearly every step, the-mends,of Zwim-le and of the .Reformation. It is a pnuce, a friend of the Pope, that is sending them to tiie school of the Gospel.” Arrived in the Cantons, Hugues and his fellow-exiles lost no time in representing the unmnoy of their case to the Swiss.. Aa noble suppliants, : not for themselves but for jeopardized liberty, they appeared befure the Senate. Ge neva, the ancient free city, situated at the limits of Switzerland was in imminent danger. Tlie heroic Berthelier murdered, the wise Levrier beheaded; many others flung into gloomy dun geons and the rest driven in exile by a prince sworn to destroy the "rights and authority of Geneva. Only One thing can save it the Strong hand of the, Swiss league. Such was the plea of these fugitives; and it was.suceessful in Friburg and Berne. Berne id particular showed great zeal. Says D'Aubigne': “There were in that city a great many of do-' voted friends of Zwingleand: tho Reformation. These evangelical Bernese soon perceived that there was a hidden but real reiationship between the reformation of Zurich and the emancipation of Geneva; and they influenced their country men in favor of the Genevans. At the same time they spoke of the Gospel to the fugitives, and some of those men who had come to Switzer land in search of liberty only, lound the truth.” Meanwhile, the duke entered the city in the last days of September. He demanded the for mal resignation of the Sovereignty into his hands. Negotiations were commenced; for even in the prostrate condition of the city under foreign power, such a concession could not be wrung from it without delay. Before tho mat ter was ripe the dreaded Swiss intervention oc curred. Towards the end of October, several stout men, of warlike mien and proud,look, were seen entering by the Swiss gate; as six years be fore Marti,, the Friburg delegate, entered. They were ambassadors from Berne, Friburg and Soleure. They went to the wavering council of the Genevese and said: “Stand firm and fear nothing! Our lords will support you in all your rights.” \ . The disconcerted duke was driven to the ex ercise of greater caution and a show of modera- tion in his measures. The sturdy, but simple hearted Swiss envoys were no match for him in diplomacy, and he contrived to send them home again, half-persuaded of the moderation and justness of his policy in Geneva. But tlie fugitives were not deceived and they soon con vinced the envoys of the cheat practised upon them by the duke. They continued to press the alliance upon the Cantons and not without success. The duke h6w determined to take a bold step in Geneva. On the morning of the Sabbath,. December 10, 1525, by royal summons, the peo ple were assembled in the cloister of St. Peter’s church, where Calvin soon afterwards so fear lessly and learnedly set forth the truth of the Gospel. The object, the personages, the means used, at this time, were totally different. The* duke was’there, With his retinue, and backed by the minions of his tyranny, the archers of Savoy. The purpose of the assembly apparently was to procure the long coveted popular acknow ledgement bf the duke’s sovereignty over Ge neva. In 'reality, it was to intimidate the people, by the exhibition of* an armed force, into a show of acquiesenee which, as their own act, should effectually cut them off from foreign aid. It was called the ■‘Council of Halberds,” and D'Aubigne’s description of the whole scene is worthy not only of perusal, but of re-production by the pencil of the artist. Of course, , the voting under such circum stances, was unanimous and-prompt on the side of acquiescence; as much so, as in the pretended popular vote in the Southern States of our Union on Secession. Many a “ Council of Hal berds” has been; held in those ill-fated regions of the South. Only the power and violence of the organized faction of slave-holders could' have cajoled, inflamed, or compelled an unwilling populace into a vote against their own nationality. The submission of Geneva to Charles, and the consent of the* people of the South to disunion, are' two fads which would haye a mysterious apperanee on the pages of history, could we not point to the “ Council of Halberds" which at tended eaqh. But as there has remained in the South, after the banishment, murder, or voluntary exile of thousands; a vast deal of loyal sentiment which could not' be crushed, so : Charles found that stubborn opponents to his* usurpation remained in Geneva. We will let D’Aubigne tell how manfully they withstood the duke’s demands, and finally HOW THE duke’s HEART EAItED HIM'. IN THE MOMENT OE VICTORY. The in faefc( Charles, who fancied himself already prince of the city, wishing to enter upon his new career, requested the city to hand over to him the jurisdiction in criminal .makers, .which was refused. Nor was. this the only check: the procurator-fiscal having, by his Highness’s orders, sent from house to house to collect votes against the alliance with the Swiss, many flatly refused to give them. At this mo ment the.duke appeared as if he were stunned. He had matters on his mind which ,troubled and disturbed'him; they made him mistrustful and anxious. ’ The assembled people had just taken the oath of obedience to him . . . and to his first two requests (such legitimate requests .as lie thought tfthm) thfey Had replied by a No! After having given an! example of his* extreme vio. lenee, Charles gave another of' his- extreme weakness. He thought Geneva crushed; hut Geneva,. iCven when crushed alarmed him. He. pre'ssed His loot upon her neck,, but be felt the ccirpse moving under him. Even the mame luk'es he began to consider as obstinate republi cans', secretly .defending their‘ independence. His, head .began, to reel, bis heart to fail him. , The essential trait of his character, it will be re membered, was to begin everything, and finish nothing. This union of violence and folly, of which several Roman emperors Have, furnished examples, was found also in Charles. At the rnomhot he had gained an important victory, and just as it was necessary for him toiremain on the field of battle to profit by it, he turned his back and fled precipitately into Piedmont. It was asserted that Beatrice had recalled him. 1 Venus overcame. Pallas,' says Bonivard. The prior of St. Victor is always inclined to be sar castic. But if (as is possible) it was the desire to join the duchess which induced Charles 111. to let that city of Geneva slip from his hands, which the house of Savoy had coveted for ages, it is a proof that if he was violent enough to take it, he was too weak to keep it. ■ However that may be, on th e J2th of l>ecember, 1525, the duke quitted the city, and from that day neither he nor his successors entered it again. If Charles had remained, and followed the ad vice. of his ministers, he would probably have established his authority, and bound Geneva to Rome. The triumph of the power of Savoy at the extremity of Lake Reman would have had serious couscquenccs. But tho victory he was % PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 1863. about to win—which he had even gained . , . was lost by liis cowardly desertion, and lost for ever. ■ ' HYPERBOLE OF WICKEDNESS. Language is sometimes inadequate to ex press the criminal ity of which men are guilty, or the indignation which tlieir acts excite. The strongest apostrophes, the boldest strokes of the pen of culture, aided by, imagination, are felt to be in’vain. There are certain limits which refinement, decency, and the analogy of Chris tianity impose upon our speech. Michael, the archangel, abstained from railing, even at Satan, contenting himself with the brief ancl dignified expression, “ The Lord rebuke thee.” There fore, we can have no sympathy with such slang, vituperation, and profanity as the notorious Mr. Browidow habitually indulges, and, it seems, takes a pride in, which we are sorry to see caught up and reechoed through the co lumns of every secular newspaper in the North. Neither the devil, nor his closest followers bn earth, should be so abused. Yet when the facts which call forth Mr. Brownlow’s unseemly utterances are known, we confess ourselves puzzled for expressions strong enough to put in their place. For the highest inbral i4asons, it is desirable that just and righteous indigna tion should find vent. The enormities of the Southern Rebellion should be portrayed and characterized in fit terms; and while we discard and condemn as offensive: the language of Mr. Brownlow, we agree with him most heartily in the conviction that no degree of denunciation can go beyond the facts or transcend the guilt of the offenders. We refer especially to the wrongs perpetrated upon the loyal part of the Southern population. The crime which, in our view, overtops the sin of rebellion itself, is that of persecuting, plundering, mobbing, outraging, banishing, or ignominiously murdering those whose offence was that they would not partici pate: in the offence of tbeir persecutors. It is guilt wreaking itself upon innocence. It is the troubled conscience made desperate and outra geous'by the mere presence and silent rebuke of the good. It is treason reaching its acme in fury and rage against the faithful. It is insolent lawlessness, rioting in a brief lease of power, hastening to crush opposition, and to realize its mew-found authority in the sufferings and death of its victims. It is comparatively honorable, even for re bels, openljr to meet their loyal opponents, and strive to maim, to kill, and to, overwhelm them on the field,of battle; to put in operation their phantom of a government, and to require out ward conformity to its provisions; ! to punish those within their bounds, Who may openly seek to thwart their design of independence. Robbers and: pirates may be simply robbers and pirates, or they may carry on their business with atrocious and gratuitous circumstances of cruelty. Rebels may be simply rebels, ancl may carry the guilt pf rebellion and civil war only on their traitor souls. That is sufficiently fearful. But the rebels of the South have still greater crimes to answer for. They made even passive loyalty to the rightful government of the country a crime. They have sentenced men to the direst penalties, for obeying one of the plainest injunctions of; Scripture on civil go vernment. They have outlawed men for sim ply refusing an .active support to a rebellion which their very Yice-president declared would be utterly unjustifiable, not six months before it broke out; They have suffered mob-law to prevail against unoffending men and their fami lies. They have let loose upon them not only their blood-hounds, but men more savage and blood-thirsty than beasts. They have allowed self-ehoseu vigilance committees to inaugurate a,reign of terror ove*r the neighborhoods where they dwell, and thisfor no semblance of open opposition to their rebellious project, but to punish' the quiet, but inflexible adherents to the rightful authorities of the land. At last the hour of deliverance for these mar tyrs to loyalty has struck. General Burnside has aeheived their rescue in East Tennessee; Gene ral-Blunt has reached the scenes of their suffer ing on the bordefsbf Arkansas and Northern Texas. Their advances have not diminished, but strengthened the grounds for the language we have used.. We quote from the correspond ence of the Cincinnati Commercial, . in East Tennessee: “ The information given of the outrages com mitted by the secessionists confirms and more than confirms all that Brownlow has had to say of-them. There is hardly a neighborhood in which Union men have hbt been murdered, and hundreds of them have been' hidden for months in eaves In the, mountains, and supplied with food, by the women. The .able-bodied males were nearly all absent in the army or wander ing in exile.’ The’roads in South-Eastern Ken tucky now swarm with them returning to their long deserted homes.* “The Rast Tennesseans were so'glad to see, our soldiers that they cooked every, tiling they had add gave it to them freely, not, asking pay, and apparently not thinking of it. Women stood by the road-side'with pails of water, and displayed Union flags. The wonder was where all the stars and stripes .came from. Knoxville was radiaut with flags, At a point on the road, from Kingston to Knoxville, sixty women and girls stood by the road-side, 1 waving Union flags and shouting, “Hurrah for'the Union;” Old ladies rushed oat of their houses, land wanted to seo General Burnside and shake hands with him, and cried,“Welcome, welcome, General. Burnside; welcome to East Tennes see!" To this we may add a late despatch from Ge neral Blunt’s advanced position in Indian Ter ritory, which says: g “Refugees from the rebel eonscriptioh are coming to General Blunt’s lines by hundreds. Their sufferings are represented as indescriba ble. More than one hundred Union men have been shot or hung, at Port Smith, since the re bellion began.” - , 1 Dying —-When tho excellent Dr. Conyers said, “I am not afraid of death, but of dying,” he expressed the feelings of many sincere Chris tians. They dread not what is after death, but the putting off their tabernacles. The violent disruption of soul and body—"the pains and groans and dying strife”—-these are what they fear, and not that to which they lead. That to which they lead < is attractive. Jrferfisif. THE TrarieOßH OP THE SCRIPTURES. But if the behemoth and the leviathan have each of thorn received a very largo share of dis cussion, perhaps belli are surpassed in. this.re spect by the claims of the unieojm. Pagosupon pages have been written on thib sfilijeet. Some have said it must have been thdiantelopc (Oryx leucoryx ) of North Africa, Syma, &c., that the horns, seen in profile, appear a) one, and hence the mistake of regarding the animal, as possess ing a single horn ; others havejno hesitation in referring the unicorn to the one-horned rhino ceros (R. unicornis) of Asia. jTllis isthe opi nion generally entertained at this clay. Blit all attempts to discover a onc-borned animal that shall represent the unicorn of the English Bible are beyond the mark entirely, and for the sim ple reason, the so-called unicqfe' iAho tinicofh at all: the Hebrew word r’em denotes a tfw 1 horned animal beyond a shadowy of a rdoubt. The “ nnieorn” of our authorized .version owes its origin to. the monokeros of the LNN.. That the re’m possessed two horns ijs evident,'as .ob served by Schiiltens in 1136}' from the llth verse of Dent xxxii., where of Joseph it is said, “ His horns; are like the bonis of a r'em.” Our translators, seeing the contradiction involved in. the expression "horns of the| unicorn,” have ■rendered the Hebrew singular noun as if it were a plural form. In the liargin, however, they give_ the correct translation, The two horns of the r’em, are the ten thousand of Eph raim and the thousands of Maaassch, and re present the two tribes which sprang from one, (viz. Joseph,) just as two horns spring from one head. We may dismiss the idto, therefore, that a unicorn is spoken of anywhere in the Bible. The r'em is a two-liomed anfcnal, and almost certainly denotes some; kind Of " wild ox,” a 8 appears from a comparison of the different pas sages where the word occurs in'Holy Scripture. The r’em is always mentioned Hvith bovine ani mals. It is said to push with its horns. It must have been frequently seen by the ancient Hebrews roaniing on the Palestine and in the wodds of the. Jordan valley, as is evident from the numerous allusions to it. It is true there is no “ wild ox” at present known to exist in Palestine, but this is no reason why in early times some mighty species, allied, perhaps, to the writs of the Hercyniaii Forest, of which Ccesar speaks, should not have existed in that country. Lions were certainly not uncommon in Palestine and Syria ill Biblical times, as is clear from the numerous all ulions to them in the Holy Writ; and it is interesting to note,ln verification of the Scriptures, that the late Dr. Roth discovered bones of the lion in gravel on the banks of the Jordan, neaislthe Sea of Gali lee. It is, therefore, quite probable that future investigations in Palestine may result in the discovery of the bones of Bos primigenias, or Bison prisons, or some other speuiojs of once formidable ox. Our readers will remember the beautiful passage.about the -gem in-the Book of Job. Now. let us compare,with it the. ac-, count Coesar gtvefe of the fierc® itrusl which, in his time, was’ to be seen in the j;reat Hefeynian Forest: •' . ■ ■ . .v “These iuTare scarcely lbs! than elephant's in size, but in their nature, color, and form are bulls. Great is their strength, and-great their, speed ; they spare neither man nor beast when once they have caught sight of them. The hunters are most.eareful to kill those’ which they take in pitfalls,-while the young men exercise themselves by, this sort of hunting, and grow hardened by the toil. Those who kill most re ceive great praise when they exhibit in public the horns as trophies of their sueeess.. These uri, however, even when young, cannot be ha bituated to man or made tractable. The size and shape of their, horns are very different from those of our oxen.”— -Bell. Gal., iv. .29. The indomitable nature ascribed to thebe wild uri exactly agrees with the (description of the r’em, as given in the 30th chapter of .Job: “ Will the r’em be willing-to serve tbee, or abide by thy crib ?” and the implied contrast between the domestic ox and the intractable r’em finds an'apologue in the'above, extract from Cajsar.— London Quarterly Review. THE CHRISTIAN’S RIGHT PLACE, BY KEV. T: Tj. CTJYJVER. In a well organized army every man Ims bis place. The mathematical head goes to the en gineer corps. The medical- skill and steady hand is assigned to the surgical department. The sharp-eyed man shall handle the Enfield rifle, and the well-taught graduate of West Point, and of' a half-dozen hard-fought Battle fields,, receives the sword of a Brigadier. He who has the most of Napoleon in him soon fights his way to the supreme command.—- Every man in his place, is as much the motto of the church as it is of the camp; the wrong place is well-nigh as fatal as no place at all. Now wbat is the Christian’s right place? Manifestly ,it is a place -that bis Creator made him for and trained him for. , To mistake it is a misfortune; to desert it a disgrace and a crime. The Bible answer to our questions is in these woiffs : Having’theft - gifts differing according to the grace that is 'given us, whether prophecy, let;us prophesy according to the pro- ; portion of faith ;,or ministry, let us wait on our ministering; or he that teacheth, on teaching; or he that exhorteth, on exhortation ; he that giveth’let him do it with simplicity; he that ruletb, with diligence; he that showeth mercy,' with cheerfulness. The principle here laid; down is, that every true Christian, .after a can did, honest inspection of his own physical and mental'and-moral qualifications, 'slibuld take 1 he post of duty or the line of labor- for which his gifts best fit him. But no man—no 1 not one, is to “neglect that gift that is in him.” Some men were manifestly created for the pulpit. God gave them clear heads, warm hearts, and strong lungs,'a love of Jesus, arid a love of saving souls.-" To' ]fosBe'ss’ : tbGse : 'to■ have:a Divine call for the ministry ; for such to stay out of the pulpit (if; strong inclination draw them hitherward), is as grievous a mistake, as it has been for hundreds, of others to enter the pulpit. ' 1 But because a man is not called- to' 1 preach Jesus at the sacred desk, must .he- preach no where else ? Is all the earnestness, and all the persuasive power, and all the,hunger for souls which a pious lawyer or a pious mechanic may possess, to run to waste? No! Let him tell his neighbor of the great salvation wherever he can find him—whether in the, pulpit, meeting for conference, in the prayer circle, by the way side or the fireside, in the sick room, or in whatever place God brings a soul'within his reach. Arid how successfully this may be done, let such men as Harlan Page, and Robert Hal dane, and Cranfiekl, and the good;-Methodist Carvosso answer. Let the powerful lay ex hortations heard in Pulton Street answer’ God is opening a wide door for lay exhortation in our time. Brownlow North, in Great Britain, is’proving what can he achieved by a practical man throwing himself upon practical men without any professional technicalities, and pouring Gospel truth into their hearts in the every day language of life.—This corps In- Christ’s army will hoar enlargement. They arc uniformed sharp-shooters, stealing singly or in squads upon the enemy, wherever a point is left exposed, or a straggler can be sighted. What our churches sorely need is the devel opment of her members. Too much is thrown upon tho ministry. The church becomes Dr. Tyng’s church, or Mr. Beecher’s church, or Mr. Barnes’ church, instead of a people’s church, with those gifted men as its ministers. A pas tor is'expected to make three studied exposi tions of Bible truth-every week, to-conduct the public devotion of his flock, to labor at-tbe fire side, in the ,siek room, and the house of death. During our early ministry wo were called to do all these, and to superintend a Sabbath school and teach a Bible class besides. 1 Now' wo love to work bettor than, anything else, unless it be to see other people work, and no; member of our church has any more right to turn over his spi ritual labors on mo than he has to hand me bis market-basket, or; to ask me to .eat add digest his dinner for him. Hp needs to /lo; bi&.own work as much as the cause of Christ needs to have it done. Add when, in season of revival, the latent lay power of the ‘church is" brought out, we see how much may bo done by the Pris cillas and Aquilas, by Onesiphorus, and by Ly dia, and by the “faithful Persis,” who labors in the Lord. The church then is a hive without a drone, and the air is musical with"returning bees bringing in thdir blessed spoil. ’ ■ ; A Christian who is keen for work will soon find his right place. If be is " apt to teach,” if he has the knack of breaking tb,e truth up into small morsels for children’s mouths, j then he will soon scent his way into the Sabbath school. Another one has leisure and love of souls; to such a one tract distribution is a wel come work. It requires only, health enough to walk, and Christian enough to talk acceptably to the family visited with the Bible or the tract; It is not' too much" to'sdy that Harlan Page, with his gospel under hi’s arm, is equal to many a learned divine, with his pon drous eolumbiads aimed forty degrees above the heads of the people. ",. v;r : ;: Here, again, is another “gift” is a me lodious voice—that “roost excellent thing in woman,” and hardly less so in a man. A homely woman becomes beautiful when she is singing; and a melodious voice will outlive a plump form or a rosy complexion. Whoever can sing, be longs to God’s great multitudinous choir. Whoever can sing; and will not sing, does pot deserve a peat in church nor the feast of a good sermon. They will be ashamed to sing in heaven if they were too indolent dr too fas tidious to sing in tho earthly temples of God’s praise. . . Nor are these the only gifts. We .can now recalLa member of our first flock who-possessed no qualifications to exhort, or to teach in the Sabbath school, he had no gold to give, and no musical skill to sing the praise of his Redeemer. But he did possess a rare earnestness and Bi ble richness and soul fervor in pr'ayer. That good old man’s single prayer saved more than one evening meeting from drought and dreari ness. 1 A blessed gift was that veteran’s power of pleading-at the mercy-seat; and; a fountum of blessings did it prove to the ehurehifor which he besought the heavenly baptism. Reader, have you found your place ? Thou stick to it Work there even though it bo in the humblest corner of the most out-of-the-way vineyard. An -idle man in the church is a monster. And yon cannot give a cup .of Gos-, pel water to a beggar’s child without receiving, Christ’s smile in return fpr it. Wherefore" “ neglect not the gift that is in thee,” and what soever thou doest for the Lord, “do it heartily.” —lndependent. . •’ INFLUENCE. On this subject there arc two groat mistakes in the practical conceptions of mankind. Some think they are so insignificant'that it does not matter what they do. Others regard themselves : as so important that if .they -were removed, their: places could not be supplied. Both of these classes of persons make equally great mistakes, Every man should feel, that'however small, or how ever great, neutral, uninflnential upon mankind; it is impossible that he can be. He is amission ary, now and forever, for good or for evil, whether he intends and designs or not.. Ho may be a blot radiating his dark influence out ward to the very - circumference of society,’ or he may be a blesssng spreading benedictions over the length and the breadth of the world, but a blank heeannot be. There are no moral blanks, no neutral characters; we are either the leaven that sours and corrupts, or the light that splendidly illuminates, and the salt that silently operates. In the natural world there is 'nothing lost The dew-drop trembling on the flower, is but exhaled to fall anew in the thunder shower, or shine in the bow that fronts the sun’ or sparkle in the flow of the far-off fountain. The tiniest seed borne by the wild-bird, or blown by the breeze, finds sustenance and soil in some remote and desert place, or sheds usefulness and beauty amid the crowded homes of Industry. The drift of common dust scattered by the fitful tempest, may bear some proud oak battling with the biasfc, or crown some ruined palace with a fob durous diadem. The furnace: flames, put out, are blown about to burn again elsewhere, perhaps to make the beacon blaze which beams across the mighty waters or to light the social' lamp that illumines the home of taste. 'Even the circle formed by the falling pebble, goes on and on, ring within .never stops-. ; Nothing in the universe, indeed, stands alone, nothing is solitary. No atom of matter, no drop ; of water, no vesicle of'air, or ray. of light, exists in' a state of isolation. Everything be longs to some system of society of which it is a component and necessary part. : With equal beauty and truth it has been said, “ We cannot go into the meadow aud pluck up a single daisy by the roots, without coming into contact, with a society of nice relations. The 'handful of earth that follows it, the shn-beam arid'the dew-drop that met there, the soft summer breeze that came : whispering through the tall grass, the sky that smiled upon that flower, aud unfolded its foliage, and the little birds to which it ntdded, ami which-gathered around it to sing their sweet strains,—all these were parts of the social circle to which the flower • belonged, and-conspired to, its harmony and added to its music, aud/epb the change which has occurred-' In like'manner, in the moral world, no man'stands alone, riorlibii angel, nor child. All creatures belong to a svs tem of mutual dependencies; The most obscure individual exerts an influence which must be felt , in the great; brotherhood of mankind. No qno can detaeh himself front this connection. There is no sequestered spot in the universe, no dark niche along the disk of non-existence, to which he can retreat from his relations to others, where he can withdraw the influence of his existence upon the moral destiny of the world. Every where his presence or absent!? will be felt.’ Everywhere he will have companions who will be better or worse for his influence. - Solemn thought !~we can no more denude ourselves of leaving around us ceaseless fmpres siops for good or evil, than we can denude our selves of our responsibility or our immortality. There is not a man that walks the streets, who does not go home in some degree modified by t-hu sign boards that he has read, the shop-windows . he has seen, and the carriages that rolled past him is ho moved along. There is not a child that walks from its mother’s door to school, that has not. stamped upon it in its transit from tbe one to the other, impressions that will be,lasting, probably as. its life. There is hot an individuM, who is not, by every look he gives making an impression, by every word he utters producing an coho in the heart or conscience of some one, by every deed-ho-performs, leaving an indellible shadow, like the photographic light behind it,- — an impression,—an echo,- —a shadow, whose in fluence shall be ceaseless. : No man livetii to himself. Tremendous thought? !We : cannot but: exert an influehce ,upcm those around ns, to be communicated by them to others, and then to others again, until it may have diffused itself to earth’s remotest boundaries. We canhot but transmit ah’influ ence which will go down'thrdngh long years* and centuries, never ceasing to work perhaps, until the Angel with uplifted hand shall swear, “Time shall be no longer.” Hearts will bleed, or hearts will,bound, fifty years after this, from something we now say or do, or are. ,-Wliat we now are, is preparing .victims for woe, or, through the grace of God, as heirs for glory. What we now are and say and do is either communicating demon joy to:the fiends, or eestaey to' angels that are about the .throne. Our treasures may moulder, but we will act upon the ages, which arc yet to come. Our honors may perish, but what we are now doing will be reflected by many who will be made aud moulded by us. Dignity, andrank, and riches are all corruptible and Worthless; .but moral character has an; immortality, that- no sword-point can destroy, that ever ..walks the world and leaves lasting influences behind. * THE DEFECTIVE TITLE. ; . ,“ I have made my last payment for my farm,” said Sfc Henderson. ,“ We shall not be obliged to practise so rigid an economy as has been ne cessary heretofore.” "■ ' - “ I am tha&kful that it is paid for at last.” said his wife. “We have been along time dm debt. We shall soon be too old to enjoy it,” ■ * v lt was true they had been in debt a longi time. It whg nearly twenty-five years since the farni was purchased. A few hundred dollars was all they had. to begin with. - The' farm now paid for was worth some six thousand dollars. . Not quite a year, had passed when a stranger,- eallecl at the house. He was a relation of a' former landed proprietor in.that region. 1 He! laid claim to several hundred acres'of land, by virtue of a title derived from said proprietor. The farm of Mr. Henderson fell wholly Hvithin that claim. : Mr. Henderson, produced his deeds. .The stranger pointed out tbe defect, and set tbe matter in so clear a light that there was scarce a shado'w of doubt on, the mind of MivHender son that.bis title was worthless, and that years of labor and self-denial had been lost. The stranger advised him to consult a lawyer, .and furnished him with copies of the doeUinent on which liis claim rested. Mr. Henderson took the papers and went the next day. to,*,the.most eminent lawyer at;rthe county seat. A brief examination of the papers convinced him that bis client had no title to the farm'for which he had toiled so hard. He told him bo was at : the mercy of tho claimant, and must,; make the best terms with him he CQuM.,-, ..... Tbe claimant was a Christian, and; was .wil ling to allow the full value of all the improve ments made ,by Mr. Henderson, and 1 to deduct still; further the entire cost of the litigation which would have been necessary had the oc cupant resisted, his claim. A compromise was effected by .which Mr.' Henderson retained the farm,-With a good title. Mr. Henderson had lived many years with out the slightest suspicion that his title'to'liis farm was defective. And so many professing Christians live for years without the Slightest suspicion that their title to heaven is defective. There are defective titles -to heaven as well as to farms. And men ought to look well to their titles Had Mr. Henderson looked to the mat ter earlier ho would have avoided the risk he ran, and the loss he incurred. And so men may avoid tbe risk and the. loss of heaven by a timely examination of their titles; There, will be ho cMptorinse made at the day of judg ment He whose title'is found to be defective must suffer eternal loss. -i‘* • - 1 ' THE COUNTRY PREFERRED.- A correspondent of- s flie -£T. . 7. -Evangelist] thus expresses his 'preference for a country Par ish to a city charge :: I often wonder at the strong desire manifes ted by my 1 ministerial brethren, to settle in city churches. I can 5 understand why then of scholastic, taste .should desire ready access to libraries and institutions of literature and sci ence ; I can see why ministers may desire , to be near the' greet centres of benevolent enter prise; nn'fbcontributo to keep the wheels in mo-' tiou.. There are'- 'rich facilities in' cities 1 for 1 growth-of mind and heart, and for promoting the great interests of Christianity.; It was so in the Apostles’ times, when, they weyp direc ted to begin at'Jerusiiiem those effoftp which Were <to renovate - the world. ' But foramen' who Wishes to enjoy the luxury of a pastor’s life, and consecrate, himself to the pastor’s work a plain country parish must present attractions which no city church can offer. In the city there ate parish lines ; half a dozen churches may bei represented ip a' single, family.*;' The pastor of,the; may be a stranger''to the children, - who . prefer other folds, whiledhe ser vants in the house choose a different and antago nist teacher from all the rest. And then the'week-day interests of city life are so manifold, urgent, and* absorbing'; the excitements that keep up sneh quick throbbings of the heart, and such debilitating fevers and chills of the soul, arp so incessant, that church, and parish, and sermon, and minister,, are words representing nothing, except on SEibbath, and then only for an hour' bf two. The' clang and clamor ;ef a hundred huge bells are needed every Sabbath morning to assure the city that there is a Sahb'ath and a church, in this busv : world; ■' ' ' ’lt is different in our country parish. There the Sabbath bell echoes in the soul all tho' week. There the pastor is “monarch'of all he surveys.” He isthe,pastor of families around him, notmere ly of an individual here and there. The great-, cst thing tbai; happens in all the week is the Sabbath sermon. The pastor’s visit and pray erwith ‘the household is talked about for weeks. The funeral service fur ■ a neighbor sheds a solemn influence far and wide, and the hell that sounded out its notes of death keeps tolling in men’s hearts for a long time. I have ofteii no ticed, with groat satisfaction, this contihuous influence of serious things on the minds of pa rishioners, long after the immediate occasion which impressed them had passed-away. I sometimes Jump over the fence where one of my people is ploughing or sowing, and walk by his side, and almost always the conversation relates to some sermon which weeks before im pressed his mind, or some Providence which had oecured among us, and it is pleasant to note the indications of frequent and well-di gested thought surviving the lesser interests of everv-day affairs. . , - ..y ■ At this season of the year, especially, our. country parish is rich in the co-operating influ ence of natural scenery, and the luxuriant out t GEHESEE ETitfGELIST;— WhoIe Ho. 905 burst of Providential goodness. The singing of birds, the blooming of flowers, the glories of vegetation, the balmy atmostphere, all combine to inspire thoughts and feelings in sweet har mony with the teachings of the I have sometimes wondered how it was possible for a man to gaze at on apple orchard in blos som; and meditate wickedness, or refrain from serious thought And though serious nmsmgs inspired by natural scenery may not he religion, still they clog, the wheels of sin, and corrobo ate the impressions of truth and goodness. So, then, I am a country parson from choice, and thankful for the privilege of sowing a few handfuls of'.seed in this rude soil, where God seems so Willi Jig to bless honest toil of all kinds, ... ONE HOUS LABORERS. Matthew xx. 1-16. Tlie theme of this parable is discriminating grace among believers. God maketli Ills chil dren to differ according to bis good pleasure. The “ last arc first, the first last.” Many effec tually called, a Tew chossni to peculiar privileges and services. One labors twelve hours, another nine, another six, or three, or one, while all re ceive the gift of “eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” : James and'John are brothers,‘become disciples together, are ehosea ones among tbe disciples, yet themselves distinguished the one from the other. James goes to his reward in about ten years after the aseen3ibh ; John toils on'the half of a century longer. ; ‘ 1 The martyr Stephen is in the church a man of wisdom, energy, fervent piety, and miraculous endowments, eminently qualified to human view, to be the compeer of Peter or of Paul iu “the work of ah evangelist.” His term is a single year; Paul, then the prince of persecutors, hut a “ chosen vessel” when in the vineyard, remains bin. weariness,.andpaiui’ulness” to write himself P.aul the aged.” '. I'he'indefatigable John Wesley was in the min istry 'feisty-four years. George Wbitefi«!d, so abundant in travel, iu preaching, in varied labors ,and blessed .fruits, thirty-four. John Summer dcid, so like Vv hiteficld, in “favor with all the people,” so eloquent in the pulpit, so meek, humble, and disinterested in life—seven. Dr. Archibald Alexander entered tlic vineyard early, a youth, of 19, rind left it late, a patriarch of seventy- nine. Sixty yearsof unobtrusive, per severing, effective service. When Dr. Alexander came to Princeton at the ripe age of forty, Syl vester Larned, a youth of seventeen in Middlc bury College, was just consecrating himself to Christ, , Afterward he was a theological pupil of Dr, Alexander, and in due time was ordained as an evangelist. The generation, yet lingers with us that remember his brilliant ministry and “the sweet savor of bis name.” He “ mrouyht one hour,” and then “ be was not, for God took him.” In, ; a,retired country congregation in Pennsyl vania, a youthful mother was called, justified, and gionfisd, as. we hope,, all in the space of-two fleet ing ycafs.' Connected with the same church and the same family, was another lady who was an exemplary communicant before the first was horn,, saw her buried, and remained many years afterward a revered “mother in Israel.” Young ministers, young church members, some of ybtfWill b’ebn'c-hhur laborers.. Let your brief, work be well dono*. Not only has death “all seasons for its own.” but long before death a, softened brain, paralyzed’speech, pitiable help lessness, may make you as potsherds no longer “meet for the masters use,” Then will this parable ‘seem -significant: “Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own?” —Family Treasury: J. HINDOO YEARNINGS. There are hearts the world over which .yearn ate God, J was much struck with this in reading lately a Tamil book, the product of a splendid Hindoo mind one hundred and fifty years ago. Let me give you a free translation of a = passage, which I made at the time of perusing it, so forcibly did it arrest my atten tion: “I yearn for lfite-! 0 ye sun and moon, tell ine who set you in your unvarying course of, day and night ? Ho. you know his glory ? O thou 'blowing Wind, by whose power dost thou whirl through the realms of space? Speak thou to me. of him, O ye Clouds, which come and drop in thirsty places your genial min, think and speak. Can you tell me the way in which my divine Master pours down, as freely as ye do, his copious showers of grace? O thou incomprehensible sky, eanst- thou describe . him who transcends thy measureless height ? 0 thou, sounding sea, thou of unutterable sublimity, who siretehest forth thy wave-hands, say, who established thy, vast bounds ? Tell me too, yb forest birds with, variegated wings, have ye ever gazed upon and spoken to him who is,my lover, who dwelleth everywhere ? If ye have, commune’with me about him.” , Let Jbe asiyi.t' you think it labor lost to scud the .Gospel of our lowing Lord to a people among whom'such aspirations and such expres sions find .place 'i—H. M. Seudder, ,D. D. TEE HAPPY MAN. • One of the quaint old writers thus describes the Happy Man: “He was born in, the city of Degeneration, in the' parish of Repentance nnt o life. Ho was educated at the school of Obedience, and lives now in Perseverance. He works at the trade of Diligence; notwithstanding he has a large estate in the country of Christian Contentment and many times does jobs of self-denial, lie wears' the plain garb orhumiitty and has a bet ter siut ho put on when he goes to court, called the Robe of Christ’s Righteousness. He often walks in the vailey of sell-abasement, and some times climbs the mount of spiritual-mindedness. He, breakfasts every morning upon spiritual Prayer knd’siipS' every evening upon the same. He has rheat to cat that the world knows not of, andlliis drink is the sincere milk of the word. Thus happy he lives, and: happy he dies.— Ohrislian Secretary. . HOW TO MISS HARD THUMPS. “Whosoever, therefore, shall .humble himself a 3 this little child, the same, is greatest in the kingdom of heaven." : ? Math-xm: 4. :: ■' The celebrated Dr. Franklin once received a very useful lesson front the excellent Dr. Cotton Mather, which he .thusrelates in a letter to his son, Dr:'Samuet Mather, datedpassy, 12th May, 1181 “The,hist time ! saw your father was in 1724. On taking my leavq, he showed me a shorter way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which was crossed by a beam overhead. We were still talking as I withdrew, ho accom panying behind, and I turned 1 toward him • when he said,hastily, Stoop—stoop! I did nut understand.him t jli 1 felt my head hit against the’ ; beam. He wash man who"never missed an oc casion of giving instruction;' and upon this lie , saidto me—.‘T3w are young, arid have the world .bef ore you, Stoop asyou gdthrough-it, and von will miss many hard thumps. This ad vice, thus beat into my head, has frequently been of use to ihc; and lofted tiiiukof it when I see pride mortifi ed, and' misfortune dteight ' ripori people by carrying their heads too high.”—Andies’ AVte ilory.
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