(gimttym&tm. OUR LONDON LETTER. London, Jan. Ist, 1864. The year went outlast night in a scowl, “Swift-journeying, and by a furious wind, Squadron’d,; 'the hurrying clouds ranged the roused sky.” And the Few Year comes in cold, dark and forbidding. With that rapid jcwcr ol tilt vh gj n ] 1 11'it t l T:< fi es nature, which seems to be an instinct of naan, few whose minds are exercised at all, will to-dav fail to see the analogy between the state of the physical and political at ihosphere. Howis it that at this season forebodings o'f evil are so. frequent and so usual ? Does the solemnity of the sudden ■ transition from Old. to Few—the startling 'Excision of' d draggling piece of history from the body of the Present—and the fresh ongoing in search of another burden, Without any possibility of discerning, until W is reached and must be taken up and .borne,' what that burden may be—does this. give to men at this season a preter natural nervousness—a power of seeing, as if in the hurried revelation of a flash of lightning, all tiie dangers without disclos ing the opportunities'of their position ? I know not. But though I have it not by me at this moment, I dare say that my letter of this date last year is full of cloudy apprehensions for the 1863. The feet is, that Europe is a vast gunpowder barrel, over which a number of people are smoking, and one is continually looking out for an explosion. . Coming, as I did, from America, where for many a long year the rumor of .wdr, when it reached me, excited no direct .personal feeling of anxiety, but was an extraneous matter Which could'be calmly and philosophically considered, I find the change, very great to * condition in which 6very telegram is momentous, and every act of-a dozen sovereigns is watched and reported with lynx-eyed acuteness grid severity. Alas! that America should, by some mysterious Providence, have lost that happy seclusion from war and/apprehension.! The international relations of Europe . are so curiously varied .and intricate, that the Slightest complication is apt to de range the whole machinery, and eventual ly do injury to all its parts. 4nd so, peo ple here, when they see that Federal Exe cution has taken place in Holstein and that after all it means revolution; and see also that this,is done in ; direct contraven tion of a Treaty entered, into by the chief Powers engaged in. the execution; and consider that Fapoleon is only waiting for some pretext of interference in European affairs, for some opportunity of touching the Rhine with, his splendid army—people are very, naturally-uncomfortable at the aspect of the scene as. the curtain rises upon the year 1864. • , Here we are 1 The Western Continent vibrating under the most Titanic struggle of historic ages, with foreign relations so tender that one trembles lest a sudden breath should rend thenar a war in Few Zealand that may drag upon our energies for many a year, till the unhappy Maories are exterminated; a conflict: in prospect with a numberless, a civilized,; a powerful and energetic nation of islanders in the far off Eastern seas; another, with restive tribes in our golden dominions of India; engagements in China that appal one in the consideration of their incalculable im portance and inscrutable eventuality; a a problem to be solved in Ireland which puzzles the most confident statesman; an ecclesiastical revolution, surely though slowly advancing in our own community, •nd the skirmishers of both parties eager ly pushing forward to the fray. With these and a hundred other matters im pending, it.were no wonder if we entered on this year with cheerless forebodings. You, in. Aanerica, must share them. How over the battle goes with you, your hearts will burn with sorrow over ,so terrible an -episode in your history, .For can you contemplate unmoved the possibility of a collision with nations most sacredly con-, nected with you by blood, by political feeling, by religiqus belief., I trust that, on both sides of the* Atlantic, moderation «nd kindness may govern our actions, and ■blessed. peace may be suffered to unite ns permanently under her genial sway. ; Wheri 'the j£bre.6 disciples were about to witness the transfiguration, a thick cloud overshadowed: them, and fear fell on their hearts before they saw the glorious vision: perhaps wo . too, entering with fear and trembling into the mysterouß shadow of tils year, may, before its close, behold Spine unexpected Apocalypse of God’s love and gioiy Let us jiope it and enter - THE ESTABLISHED CHURCH, number of questions in dispute in the Established Church speaks ill for its future., Some want the articles modified, some wept the Creed enlarged; some want the liturgy shortened, ethers want it altered, Hgnae-want lie burial service., to r bo more general ip 'its teppasi and so. on od nauseam. Qaiet and conscientious men will sobn have some remaining attached to a church whose minister and members teach and believe anything and every thing; and which is so catholic as to combine within itself any shade of infideli ty that may be fashionable. The Burial service is now discussed in public letters. Some men’s consciences will not allow them td declare that their dead brother is consigned to earth in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. Others have such tender consciences, that they would e’en hope the best for their de parted brother, and whatever his life, insist that it is impossible to say whether a man died safely or no. Let any honest and pious man who has stood by the dying beds of sinners, declare whether there is generally much difficulty in judging in what frame a man dies. lam in favor of some modification, and I think the point will be carried. Another thing which troubles our lite rary Churchmen, is the decline of the pro fession in the eyes of University men, and the increasing number of persons who are admitted without having had a University education. The latter are termed literates, and in your university man’s mind, this means illiterates. The educated word lings in the church measure man’s fitness for the Ministry more by his learning than his spirit, more by the originality and ele gance of his sermons than the sterling vigor and piety of his exhortations. The .very idea of taking to the Church as a profession, and not on a belief in a special, call from God, shews how little the per sons understand the nature of the office respecting which, they speak so dogmati cally. Mr. Justice Coleridge asks The Times to-day whether the literates do not pass, as good an examination as the Uni versity men: the Times acknowledges that they do, often a better. But, says this sage paper, their minds not, haying been as well trained as those of University men they are apt to have narrower views and stronger theological prejudices. So that the argument for the. University men is also one in favor of latitudinarianism! Fot one I trust that will go down in Eng land. I half promised, last week, .to give you some account of the Young Men’s Spcieties attached to many of the Presbyterian Churches in London, and indeed through out England and Scotland. I do so the more readily because, .knowing well the habits and wants of young men in America' I have thought that similar societies might be established with; immense advantage, in connection with your great city churches. These bodies are not .exactly similar to, nor any way connected, with the Young Men’s Christian Association, but have a more .local and denominational interest. Their>avowed, object is rather Social 1 and literary than religious latter gives the tone to theiformer/ after all, to be the most influential. ; The society is generally composed of all the young men of the Church; of --any station, with’ others who cannot call themselves young, but find a profit'and a pleasuire in intellectual • converse with, their j uniors; > It is gener ally expected that a man should be a Presbyterian in sentiment, though not necessarily a ..member of the Church, in order to enter the society. They generally meet once a week, from 8 to 10 o’clock, to hear an essay read, and to discuss the subject. This subject is selected by the essayist from a large number agreed to semi-annually at meet ings of the Association; and a programme of the lectures and questions is prepared every six months. It is not necessary nor usual for the subjects to be religious: History, Biography, Philosophy, Science, in fact any moral question is admitted, ■ At Dr. Hamilton’s Church in Regent. Square, the Society has over 80 members, and essays of great ability and interest are sometimes read. In this Society, there is a good arrangement; namely,. that the, meeting which, precedes the .Cjbmmunio.n shall be a devotional meeting. The Pastor of the Church is the President, and some times attends the discussions, and always presides at any of the' social meetings. The Chair is taken by Vice Presidents, who are usually elders or deacons in the Church, and who hold office for three months. This maintains order and disci pline, and at the same time brings the session into acquaintance with the rising talent of the Church. This is one pf the important benefits of the arrangement, for it is quite common,for the deacons to be selected from among the most diligent and prominent men in the Society. But the chief advantage, is to be found in the fact that they bring the young men of the Church together-—that they are attractive places of resort for youthful strangers in great cities-r-that when young men come up they are sought out by the officers, especially if their friends have been judicious enough to give them introductions, and are, assisted and advised in respect of situations, lodgings, .society, &c., and not having A ; distinctly religious character, they retain and bring; under good inflnences men who might otherwise be quite lost to the Church, and perhaps PHILADELPHIA, THURSDAY, JANUARY 4, 1864 to themselves. There is no question that the interest manifested in these societies by the office-bearers of the churches is one of the prime causes of their- success! I was at one the other night, at which two elders and two students in divinity spoke, besides some deacons. You will understand by this, that these are not mere young men’s debating clubs, but really able and useful institutions. For preserv ing men in the Church and securing them friends in an unknown city,, they are invaluable, since it is only necessary to take letters, or even to introduce ones-self to one of the officers, and if a man has any credentials he at once makes the acquain tance of a number of persons, who are willing to aid and encourage l|im. The Societies in the different cities correspond freely with each other, and thus facilitae the means of mutually introducing the men. I have thought that in 'America, where the transition of young men from city to city is not unfrequent, and where we lose many from the churches in conse quence of their coming under foreign influences, such societies would be highly beneficial. In literary importance and usefulness their value cannot be overrated. What do you think of a Presbyterian minister in London last Sabbath advising his people to stay away from midnight meetings to see in Few Year, because they were only Popish ceremonies! If the Presbyterians are going, to bring their old fashioned stringency into .England with them, they had better shut, up their churches at once, sp far, as Englishmen are concerned. . , Adelphos. vi.—Voiceless Preachers. Ps. 19. : 3. No speech nor language, their voice is not heard. ... Fo spectacle affords us views of the beauty, order and magnificence of the Creator’s works, than the starry heavens. “ Though all preachers on earth should grow silent, and every human mouth cease from publishing the glory of God,” the voiceless stars would speak! for him. Those burning gems set in the infi nite dome of the sky by the hand, that built the worlds; maintain the.same position which they held . when man’s inquiring gaze was first turned Towards the heavens! They shine on us with the same brightness with which they gladdened the hearts of the Chaldean shepherds on their mountain tops. There they stand, retired to such a distance within the silent and’awful depths of space, that human thought Canhiot travel so far. While all earthly things 1 fade and pass away, the hosts of heaven ‘are marshalled forth on the high fields of immensity, in the same bright armor that they wofe of old. The whole order, and aspect of things in human society, tore been repeatedly changed, and set up anew, as the flood of ages sweeps along. But the clouds "agd, thb tempests of earth, have not dimmed the. light of the - stars; the'shock of armies, the’ - thunder of a thousand battles, has not shaken a gem from the diadem of night. Areturus and his sons are still circling around the - pole, as they were when the 1 Almighty challenged the complaining patriarch to lead forth that prince of the etherial host upon his destined way. At his appointed hour, Orion still climbs the steep ascent of the heavenly path to the zenith. The sweet influences of the Pleiades are still unbound. The signs and seasons are Still graduated upon the glitter ing belt of Mazzaroth. They have no speech nor language, their voice is not heard ; and yet the tribute of praise , which they render to the great Creator by their beauty, order and everlasting silence, as clearly makes known to the sons of men his mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom, as they .could, , wereeach •permitted to send throughthe,, uni verse ,a voice loud, as mighty thunderings .and exultant as the shout of nations, :j- “' Forever singing as they shine, *' ■ ■ : The -hand: that made hs is divine.” Go forth like the sacred’ Psalmist at night, and consider the heavens, the starry splendors of the immanent which God has made to declare his glory. - Lift your thoughts-above all the change and conflict of earth, and strive - to attain greatness and serenity of mind, by the devout 'contem plation of the constancy, the divine order, the sacred silence of the countless worlds' above you. Suddenly you are startled by: what seems the brightest of all the host of heaven, rushing across the sky with furious speed, breaking the relative order and harmony pf the disciplined host, with r ; drawing attention from them by its own terrific light, perhaps giving forth a sound as of rushing waters, or of distant thunder, and then disappearing in darkness. - That strange appearance forces u pon your min d the fearful question -. “ Can that be adost world ? Is it thus that the Almighty hurls* the rebellious sons of the morning from their thrones of light? Has some incendiary arch-angel kindled the torch of reyolution and discord again upon the plains of heaven ?” Saddened and shuddering at the thought, you turn to look for the space which has SACRED SYMBOLS. been left void and dark by the fall of the most brilliant of the starry host. But the night has not lost a gem. Fot a single ray has faded from her an cient glory. She still moves on with the same solemn silence, her train still glittering with the same magnificent garniture of worlds. That strange light was only a transient meteor, kindled and quenched in the earth’s stormy atmosphere, and it is Only the mistaken glance Of the moment which transfers the disorder and ruin of this groaning habita tion of man, to the serene and unchanging heavens. That apparent star, , . which dimmed all others with its dazzling light, and which, emblazoned so wide a. track across the sky in its fall, was no more in distance or dimensions when compared with the least of the real stars, than the dew drop of the morning which scarcely bends the blade of grass, is to the ocean which rolls it measureless waters upon the shores of every land. And after its brief passage when, the eye looks calmly into the blue depths of night, you can still see far beyond the ; region where the meteor flames and expires, far. beyond the path of the solar light, the same stars shining with the same serene and awful silence still. God’s unaided hand holds up the heavens with their millions of worlds ; he preserves the order, the harmony, the ineffable, beauty of his great empire throughout all ages; he brings forth troops of stars upon the fields of light to show,us that our little world is not the whole of his kingdom, and that he would not want for subjects to celebrate hi 3 glory, though the whole race of man should renounce his service and madly say, “there is no God.” Fation may rise against, nation; and kingdom against kingdom. The earth may shake with the march of armies, and the day be darkened with the cloud onbattle. It may seem to us that the foundations of order are broken up, and that no voice can speak peace to the troubled elements. Yet all the while, the night in orderly succession shah marshal forth God’s host, "With all their beacon fires still burning upon the battlements of heaven. The calm unchanging immensity of worlds shall look down in silent and reproachful pity upon the: pride and 1 passion, the'struggle and agoiiy of man’s vain life. “ Look up and read the lesson to which God’s finger points upon the star-illumned scroll of the night. The earth of thy habitation is but a mote among the millions of worlds with which God’s creative hand has strewn the, skies; be could make a Million more for every particle of dust that clouds the air when the whirlwind sweeps the desert. For uncounted ages he has held them all in his hand unwearied, and maintained for each the same rank! of subdued or superior brightness. His upholding word alone has kept the fiery *orbS ‘upon'each other in mutual wreck and conflagration, or fleeing Awaytd'Kide themselves in utter darkness. And this great host of worlds, these mighty and many-throned powers of light, God brings forth in calm and awful silence upon the plains of heaven, to teach all generations of Men the great lessons of peace, humility 'and trust. This great Being who displays such power and glory in the government of the material universe, is thy Father/ and' thou hast only to trust him with filial cbnfidence, and his boundless kingdom shall be thine inheritance, and his love shall be thine exceeding great reward.” TENTH SCRAP.—MORE ABOUT HARD WORDS. - ' I told you.last of-the Sergeant’s plea in •excuse for profanity, that everybody in the army swear's, and that, with swearing oh every hand, there'was ho way for the Isoldier but to come to it. He even went so. far as to say, that it was necessary to save him from the scorn of his comrades. I delayed speaking as I might of the harmlessness of the scorn of his comrades, ip comparison With the wrath of an angry 1 God. I Was in haste to meet his sweep ing assertion with a case in hand, which had come to my knowledge only a few hours before, and which now seemed to me like a Providential provision for this interview. So I asked him, “Has Dan been obliged to come to it ?” . He started, as if strategetically taken, but only said, “You appear to know something about our regiment, sir.” I continued, “Does Dan —- find ary difficulty in keeping a clear tongue ? Or does he suffer the scorn of his comrades 'because he will not swear ?” '‘‘Then you know Dan, do you?” was the response. • I did not know Dan, the praying soldier as he was called. . I had never seen him, and; as I above intimated/ had only heard of feim a very short time before. I recol lected •that'he was an Ohio boy, find that the number of bis regiment was the. same as that ■' on the eap of the soldier by my side. Indeed, as the last told me, they be longed to the same company. I had learned respecting him, that he was a young Christian soldier, about twenty years old, slender in form, and gentle in manners. His piety had with stood every seduction and every open op position of camp life. In fact all the latter was effectually conquered by the charm of his goodness. He had ceased to be the object of coarse opprobium when he refused to play cards with his mess, or shrunk away abashed and grieved at the voice of profanity. No one was left to speak derisively when he stole away into some corner for communion with God, but there had been some, his first Lieute nant included,, to ask him there to remem ber them. All this, and more which I had before heard, was confirmed by the Sergeant with whom I was now . talking 1 . “ Take us in the lump, said he, “ our cond pany is made up of pretty hard cases ; but for all that, praying Dan is our pet. Poor fellow! we were hard enough on him for a while, but, sir, the man who has any thing to say against him now had better not come among us. Our boys would soon turn him into a first rate case for the hospital.” “ Well Sergeant—to go back to what we were talking about-—it does appear then that a man can be a soldier without swearing, and be honored all the more for it, even by what you call the hard cases.” “0 if he is like Dan, that , alters the case. He is an exception to all rules. He has got religion, sir, and it’s the right stuff, and we, all know it. * There is no hypocrite about Dan: if there is any reli gion in the worjd, he has it, sir.” “You think then, if.you had Dan’s reli gion, you could get along without swear ing ?” “If I had Dan’s religion!”, he ex claimed, with about the same astonish ment lie would have shown if I had pro posed to him to go alone with his musket to take Richmond. “ Yes, if you had Dan’s religion. What is there so extravagant in the supposi tion ?” And so I spoke to him of the truth that Dan was no more bom holy than himself; that just like himself, that praying soldier once needed converting grace, and that, through the mercy of Christ he might as pire to every lovely Christian accomplish ment which had so deeply impressed those profane men with the religion of Dan, as the “right stuff.” But the point which I especially urged, was the same which I commend to every soldier reader who may have the blasphemous tongue, and who thinks that, in the army, there is no help for the habit. The Sergeant was right in giving to Dan’s religion the chief credit of his being so well able to get along without swear ing. He would have been twice right if iiistead of saying there was no, help in his own case, be had shielded himself be hind the same breast-work of prayer and loye forjjesus, and there held at defiance-: He was rolling in his mouth a sin which the highest contempt Of God; which made sport ,of the eternal threatenings of his law.; which would clothe the faces of. his best friends with sharne on his account ; which would cause him to return from the war, if he should return, an object of virtuous loathing; and for all of which there was not one corn- 1 pensating good,. It was not only a hea ven-defying, but a useless sin. He was giving himself up to this as an army ne cessity, while the.sovereign means of re formation were all the while before him. One word tells , the whole. Soldier, without vital religion your safeguards against vice are few.and feeble, and you are only too likely to wreck your moral character,.fling away your self-respect and become' spiritually desperate, With the grace of Jesus in, your : heart, "you are armed with the strength of heaven. Neither in the land of war or peace has Satan enough power to make swearing a social necessity to any one, soldier 'or .civilian, who has. put on that panoply. lj*nn was,, h.nt one . of thousands in .our army who pray from the heart, and there fore cannot swear. He was not “obliged to come to it,” and so. you will find it for yourself, if you will exchange profanity for prayer, ... s . So I told the Sergeant. He listened silently, respectfully, and it seemed to me. thoughtfully. ‘ I besought him to try the experiment. He gave me no promise, hut he thanked me, and told me that if my track ever crossed the camp of the th Ohio, to inquire for Sergeant— , Co. —, and we should se.e. His hour for duty had arrived and we parted—he to the soldier’s ever unknown, destination, and I to the hank of the Rappahannock to join those' who were trying the power of prayer against pro fanity, and drowning the notes of vile ri baldry in the music of 1 the songs of srilva-/ tion. ■ ' B B. 11. No Divine Partialism.— There are no stepchildren in the family of God ; he does not make favprites of, the .cleverest, .whose names have .'filled, the. woijd, and neglect those who were “ tfeverheard of half a mile fromhotne.” The‘poorest; leist talented - least known, are as dear to the Redeemer now as the greatest, and will be as happy in his presence forever. "WILKES, THE LONDON DISSENTEE. Soms of our readers have heard of Wilkes, a distinguished but eccentric preacher and theological tutor among the London Dis senters, seventy years ago. His manner was severe and dictatorial, and often gave offence! It was rare that any one dared at tempt a : retort when he poured upon them his scalding rebukes. On two occasions, however, he was silenced, or nearly so, by replies that he could not reasonably meet. Walking one morning in the fish market of Billingsgate, he heard one of the women indulging, in a terrible''strain of profane ness. He immediately stepped up to her with the thundering ann'ofuhcement, “ Wo man ! stop that talk, or I will be a swift witness against you at the day of judg ment!” “Very likely,” she replied, look ing at him with a sneering air, “ I have al ways heard the greatest rogues turn king’s evidence.” It was the custom of Wilkes to question his studen ts on Monday about their Sabbath performances. They met him in his study and gave : account of their exhortations, or sermons in the neighboring villages or towns. On one occasion a young man was asked the subject and place of bis morning sermon; The text was given and the place in which he preached. “And where did you preach in the afternoon ?” continued the tutor. “At such a village.” “And the subject ?” “ The same, sir.” “And in the evening what did you talk about ?” ‘ 1 Why, the:same text,” rather slowly responded the student. “ What!” burst upon him. with a voice of thunder, “couldn’t you make more than owe sermon for the whole day 'i I’m ashamed of you, sir. Never let me know of such idleness again.” The student was sorely vexed with the tone and character of such a rebuke, and resolved to give the old gentleman a “ hit ” when opportunity might occur. It was not long before the day of retribution arrived. It was known to the student that Wilkes was to preach in three different places on a certain Sabbath. He therefore resolved to be his hearer all day. In the morning the text was announced—«■ “I am ready to halt.” In the afternoon the student followed him, and heard the same sermon, and again the same in the evening. On the way home the tutor’s horse stumbled, in consequence of which the hour of meeting in the morning found the stern critic sitting by the fire with a bruised leg resting on a chair. As the stu dents entered they saluted him and con doled with him on his misfortune. At length the most interested of them all opened the door and appeared before his venerable teacher. “And, pray how are you my dear sir?” “Oh sadly, sadly!— "returning last night from service my horse stumbled, and I have bruised my leg.” “I quite expected something of the kind,” re plied the student, “for I heard you say three times yesterday that you were - ready ■ to halt !” “And havn’t you anything bet ter to do than to follow me about all day I should like to know?” said the tortured invalid, fixing bis keen eye on the exvtlting youth! Key. E. E. Adams. MOURNING APPAREL. We have always had grave doubts hf ’ the propriety of putting on sable garments at the death of Christian friends, and the following remarks by Rev. Dr. Butler, of* Washington, are worthy of careful consi deration by every Christian^ You will permit me, with all respect to • the sentiments pf others, to utter : my very long and matured convictions upon it. Its evil seems to me to be manifold. It Toots like a unifornrof organized rebellion against the providence of God- ,It sheds gloom over the streets, through the churches, and in the house. It creates an impression in . the world of absence of comfort arid con solation. It helps to perpetuate sorrow,. when the Christian duty is to cultivate peace and joy. I respect the sentiment which leads those who are bereaved to put. away gav colors, and wear those which are'gloomier.' But 1 let not the fancied re spect for the dead, or fear that one inay mot seem to mourn enough, lead usintothe egotism of obtruding our sorro w into, the world, arid a wrong, against Christianity by making it wear a livery- ofdespair,. and a wrong to the world by being objects of gloominess, when our present peace should be a perpetual testimony to the high joys and the sufficient consolation of' a Christian faith. - PROGRESS AMONG THE MeNONJTES. It is well known that this religious persuasion has not only neglected ministerial education hut has actually opposed it, regarding it as detrimental to the efficiency of the minis try, and derogatory to the Holy Ghost, upon whose immediate and Special aid the ministry must rely in preaching the gospel. They, have at lastlearnedtheir error, both 85 r egards the value of education, in the - ministry, and the riature'6f/the aid to be expected from the Holy ’Spirit in pulpit . ministrations, and have taken, preliminary, steps for the establishment-of a literary in stitution in Ohio, designed for the educa tion of the young men, who purpose devo ting thfeinselves 1 to-the preaching of the-- gospel in their dehomihation. Successor to Arch b i shop H ughes. The N. Y. World says: “ Immediately after the;funeral services of Archbishop Hughes in Cathedral, the suffragan bishops of the archdiocese met in council, and, in ac cordance with custom, sent forward to Rome three names for the suocessorship to the arch yshoprip--Bishopf;Bsiley, of : .Ne.w. Jersey, ; of .Buffalo; and Bishop TOoskey, of Albany,lLnts simus: The lifter will be NcTv u forme % coadjutor of v/ ’ ri B kt of succession, which was changed when the new see-of any was created. He is a learned: and. eoquent prelate, and : is a native of this, otate,. having been born in Brooklyn/’' . AcCESSiONS.-r-Eight persons were added?' *r®. Church in Cohnersville, 0. Ja n»fy 17th. The wholehumber added to ihifel church, during fourteen months past, is,, thirty-eight r ’ In St Paul, Minn., there are from 7,000 to 9,000 Catholics, and .1,245 Protestants!
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers