elorrcqtalmtt.
OPEN AIR PREACHERS.
NO. 'VIII.
RIVIIIA.BD HEAVER, THE " 001111 TENTED
DOLLIES."
BY lIDWARD PAYSON HAMMOND
At the close of Mr. Weaver's labors
in Edinburgh, in 1841, his thronged fare
well meeting was held in the Music Hall
of the " New Town," one of the largest
buildings of the city. Some of the lead
ing ministers of Scotland were present,
among whom was Dr. Thomas Guthrie.
In the course of a deeply interesting ad
dresS, he said :
" Just • before leaving my house to-day, I
balked with a very worthy old woman, who
Was there sewing and stitching. Said I,
Wave you heard Mr. Weaver?' The answer
' Yes.' `And what do you think of
r , `Well,' was the
i.;: answer, 'he says
-' things that the genteel folks do not
- ibut he just suits us.' There is very
in that. * * * Those people who
soreally, persons of accomplished taste s of
114 'education, and of exqustte sensibility,
eitght to bear with such as are able to speak
aOkitlihto ethers in a language they can un
dketielkc Mr. Weaver is a man of that sort.
Re.,knok the devils with which the very
lowest classes have to fight, the temptations
they hive to overcome, and the trials they
kiVe W'endure. It is thus he has been en-
VrnAO do good, and much good has been
4
. him.' r .
•,,!, , Mr. Morgan's " Life of Richard
Weaver," I find an illustration of the
'kith of Dr. Guthrie's remarks with re
gard to Mr. Weaver's ability to reach
the heart. It will be seen that he is one
of those who never loses an opportunity
to speak a word for the. Master.
On one occasion, when Weaver was
travelling between : Manchester and Liver
pool, an old gentleman at Warrington
entered tba train. He soon began to
talk to Mr. Weaver about the surrounding
country, and the following conversation
ensued :
"Do you see that house over the river?"
Yes."
" Well, all this land, and that," pointing
to it, " belongs to the gentleman who lives
there, and I can remember when he had
har six pence in the world."
" Nay, friend," said the collier, " this land
helms to my father."
" Your father ?"
" Yes ; I'm a king's son. My father is a
king."
`All Cheshire," continued the king's son,
"'belongs to my father."
"Nay, I'm sure that's a lie," said the
other,indignantly.; " I've got a farm in Che
shire, and I'm going to Liverpool now to settle
about my will. The farm haS been in our
family for generations."
" I don't care ; it belongs to my father."
"I'm sure it don't," said the farmer, get
ting vexed.
"Yes it does, and all the money you've
got in your pocket belongs to my father."
" Nay, that's a downright lie," returned
the gentleman in an excited tone, for he was
becoming thoroughly angry. Then, in a mild
er key, as if it had just struck him that per
haps his strange acquaintance had escaped
from the lunatic asylum, " Tell me what your
father's name is."
" He's called by different names, but
I call dim, GOD IS LOVE,' Richard re
plied.
"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir," said the old
gentleman,." I didn t think about that."
The Christian now told his companion of
the love of God, in sending his dear Son into
the world to save sinners, and the old man
began to weep. The preacher went on to
speak to him about his immortal soul, and
said how sad it was for him to have lived all
these years without Christ; until the other
exclaimed, " I wish I was saved." They
knelt down in the carriage, and the Christian
prayed, and the old man prayed, and before
they arrived at their journeys end he de
clared his belief that God for Christ's sake
had forgiven him his sins. They had to ride
on an omnibus from Garston to Liverpool,
and the soul so newly born could not restrain
the expression of its joy. The old man, now
a babe in Christ, began to bless and praise
God, telling the other passengers that he had
found the Saviour in the railway carriage, till
they thought him mad. Arrived at Liver
pool, he took his now dearly-valued friend to
some dining-rooms, paid for his dinner, and
went away as happy as a king.
Those who have read the account of
Whitefteld's preaching at Moorefields
will see that in these days Richard Wea
ver has had a somewhat similar experi
ence:--.
At Preseot Fair he established himself in
the midst of the travelling theatres, boxing
saloons swinging boats, and other of the fol
lies usual at such places. With others like
minded with himself, he struck up the hymn,
" Come ye that love the Lord,
And let your joys be known,
Join ins song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne."
The showmen's bells were ringing, drums
beating, cymbals clapping, rattles rattling,
against them, and for an hour and a half the
'contest went on, during which a band of music
came to the rescue, to drown the singers'
voices. But all in vain. The singing was
heard above the noise at a village a mile off.
They sang it down, and ever since that tune
is known there as " The Prescot Fair Tune."
The boxing men raved at them, and the show
men cursed but they could get no one to go
into their places, and the principal show went
out of the town next morning, the proprietor
leaving something in pawn to pay his way,
and declaring that whereas he had taken ten
pounds the year before, he had not now taken
as many shillings, all through that preacher.
- • Leaving Prescot he went t ,Liverpool Races,
{ Where the following incident occurred. A
fellow-Christian was talking to a wicked man,
and Weaver, seeing that, the-latter was going
to strike his brother,
and fearing lest he should
strike again, joined t em, and spoke kindly
to the man, who said heworild strike - him if
he didn't .take himself off.
" Well,' do it," said Richard.
He'iatrack him, and the other cheek was
presented, but the man would not strike a
second time. Weaver knelt down and prayed
for him, and when he rose the other wanted
to give him half•a-crown, which be refused.
But the man stood' by him after that, and
protected him from others who would have
molested him. Some months afterwards he
was in Liverpool again, and a stranger came
up, asking lira if he were not the man that
preached at Liverpool Races, and if he re
membered a man striking him there. "I'm
the man," he said, " that struck you, and I
have often wanted to see you to ask your for
giveness."
It is impossible to give one who has
never heard Mr. Weaver, any adequate
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1865.
idea of his preaching. His graphic man
ner has often reminded me of John B.
Gough.
The following occurs in one of his ad- '
dresses from the text Lord, now
lettest Thou thy servant depart in peace
according to thy word, for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation."
" I remember, in the Sabbath-school of a
village chapel, a little boy who was taught by
an aged man with furrowed cheeks and sil
very hair. He used to put his hand upon
the young scholar's head, and pray that God
might bless him. One day the little boy was
very noisy and rude in wheel, and when the
teacher asked him. to be qiiiet, the enly reply'
he got was a kick on the leg from:the lad,
who told him to go to hell. The tears gushed
to the old man's eyes; he 'dropped upon his
knees, and said, Lord I bless thelad. Before
I depart may I see thy salvation in.the saving
of this lad's soul. The Lord bless thee, ladl'
For some fifteen years after this the,old man
had never met the boy. He had gone con
stantly to the chapel, and he had. gone there
many a time when there had been:no one but,
God and himself, and -they had.bad a good
meeting,. nevertheless. One day'he received,
information that a certain young man , was
going to preach. He knew the nanae, and
said, I will, go and hear him.' - When he
went into the chapel, the young man was
preaching. The old man knelt down ' and
after the other had done speaking, he'held up
his feeble hands, and raising his dim eyes, to
heaven, said, Lord, now lettest Thou ty
servant depart in peace according to,thy word,
for mine eyes have seen thy salvation.' The
young man preached all that week in the same
village; the blessing of. God was largely poured
out upon the people, and numbers were
brought to a knowledge of the truth, through
the blood of the Lamb. At „the,,end •of
the week he was called to attend te dying,
bed of a very old man. When he =wentiinto
his room, the aged wife was at his bedside
weeping, as much as to say, 0 Lord, let me
depart with him.' As soon as the young
preaCher approached the dying man's bed,
the latter caught hold of his hand, saying,
' Oh, my dear young friend, you forget me,
don't you?' Oh no, I don't forget, you,
was the reply. Do you remember me in that,
school,' continued he. Oh yes,' said the
young man. 'Thank God, then,' said the
other; !for now my prayer is answered, can
now die happy in the Lord.' Then he asked
them to sing his faverrite hymn, 3 All is well.'
His speech seemed gone, but his, daughter,
who was anxious that he should,leave behind
him a triumphant testimony to the-truth,
asked him, `Now, if you can. speak; Tither,
tell metall as well; and if not hold up your
hands.' The old man raised himself up, and
with aliying-effort i ..eried out. `Victory! vic
tory I through the blood of -the-lamb l' and
almost 4, immediately afterwards departed.
Thank God; thayoung man.is here; and his
name is Richard Weaver. Let God be praised
for whatCluist, can do." •
•
This win, whom God seems to have
roused Up to do a special work, and to
reach a class far beyond 'the ordinary
means of `grace, finds it his greatest de
light to *Vac of Jesus and his " finished
work." f3v t; he also feels it his solemn
duty to warn hardened sinners of their
danger, ac God helps him to do kin a
way which:indicates to all who listen
that he bektepes the fearful truths which
he utters B e has no doubt often trem
bledV
at th . reading in Ezek. xx/dii. of
that startlinimp.mission given to every
watchman ork.the t walls of Zion :—" Thou
shalt hear thsklysords from my mouth,
and warn theiiii;fipm me. When I say
unto the wicked;t4Oh wicked man thou
shalt surely die;ifthou dost not speak to
warn the wicked *Om his way, that
wicked man shall diee - Lin his iniquity, but
his blood will I reatiirb- at thine hand."
Again and again Itai'e I stood, with
fourteen -and fifteen tittnsand, in the
. humble man,
open air, and heard this' .
possessing little krAyledic;:.of books, but
knowledge=
of
taught of God, speaking in a
way which riveted the attention of his
hearers. He never seeks to smooth down
the terrible declarations which fell from
the lips of the dear loiing SaTiour with
regard to the certainty of the e'v'erlasting
punishment of the finally impenitent.
With Paul he ,eon say, "
therefore, the terror' of the Lord, we per
suade men."
"Will you," he says,. "cry 'Fire I F ; qm!
FIRE!' to the sleeping inmates of a burning
house, and shall not I shoat 'Hell-fire I HELL-
FIRE ! HELL-FIRE!' to my brothers and
my sisters who sleep upon the brink of ever
lasting woe?.lf you.had sto d by the death
beds I have stood hi, and heard .the dying
shrieks of lost souls going down to the fiery
lake of hell, you'd say, 'Richard, talk about
it; they want to be warned.' Some people
say, Tell me about the joys of heaven, about
"There is a land of pure delight," as, much.
as you've a mind to; but this talk*about hell
unnerves me.'• If you can't bear to hear
about it, how will you bear to feel it? How
many of you mothers are suckling your chil
dren for hell? One says, 'I am not.' Yes,
you are, if you're not a child of God by faith
in Jesus Christ. There was a young man
condemned at Chester, and when the judge
put on his black cap and sentenced him to be
hanged by the neck till he, was dead, his
mother, who stood near, wrung her hands,
and cried, Oh, my son! oh, my son l' But
the son turned upon her with Mother, you're
the cause.' Oh mothers, think of that before
it be too.late."
Some who listen to this man, who has
been used by God in leading so many
thousands to the Saviour, object to the
frequency with which he alludes to inci
dents connected with his own history.
His biographer thus answers this objec
tion :
Few men have so much to tell. Paul was
continually repeating the story of his conver
sion; and in his epistles he constantly it us
trates his subject by reference to his own out
ward and inward history; whereas, the other
evangelists and apostles never do so. The
reason doubtless is, that Paul had had a very
remarkable experience, which the others had
not; and if he had abstained from alluding
to himself, he would have missed one great
object for which that experience had been
given, and failed to use one of his most effec
tual weapons in his dealings with sinners and
with saints. Yet Paul preached not himself,
but Christ Jesus the Lord; and if Weaver
speaks of his own experience it is because in
hint Jesus Christ showed forth all long
suffering, for a pattern t them which should
hereafter believe on Him to life everlasting.
DEATHS OF PRESBYTERIAN MINISTERS IN
LONDON. —Two valuable London pastors have
recently been called away by death—Dr.
Archer, of the Oxenden Street United Presby
terian Chapel, and Rev. Mr. Burns, of the
English Presbyterian Church, Hamstead.
LETTER FROM SECRETARY ALVORD ,
STEAMER FULTON FROM HILTON HEAD,
OFF WILMINGTON, N. C., Jan. 18, '65.
MEsSII.B. •
EDITORg:—We have just
fallen in with the larger frigates of our
fleet, returning, as we suppose, from their
work at Fort Fisher. All is excitement
on board to learn the result, but we can
not. speak them. Shall know at Fortress
Monroe. They steam on in stately gran
deur—the Susquehanna, Wabash, 4fin
nesota, New Ironsides, &c.—as if proud
of some achievement.
I left General Howard's headquarters
day before yesterday.. His advance has
the stronghold at Pocotaligo, and his
whole corps is near there, while the left
wing,,. under Slocum, is rapidly coming
up from Savannah.
We 'learn from a Union prisoner on
board—,a captain who escaped from
Charleston - on the 14th instant--that the,
city is intensely excited; the people in
despair. The place, he says, will be
evacuated as soon as Sherman approaches.
Arsenal stores , and t other valuables are
already removed to', the interior. But
Sherman's sßeciel mission is to sweep
the interior. Who then. can tell where
these jewels will be safe ? I have - been
much with our other armies ; but have
never seen the spirit of conqWtst so posi
tive as here. The leader affable, terse,
,
in high spirits ; the -. troops, never ques
tioning where he leads :Ifealtli idmost
perfect, and replenishes:now abundantly '
with supplies. With - the blessing ox
God, the end of this rebellion is - near.
At Savaamah - the people are,professing
submission. ~ It is with: a tolerable grace.
Two or three of thelOnties baek of the
city have had meetings in which, it is'
said, they declared.for the Union.
,Geor g ia, undoubtedly, will be among
the first of the South to, come back as a
State.. Pew of its citizens, however, are
loyal, as we hold the term, and a very
bitter pill they now swallow ; but we:
may hope it will work their cure, and,
keep them healthy.
The colored people of the city—about
ten thousand—demean themselves admi
rably. They have been waiting for the
Northern army ; preparing for it. As one
colored woman who lived in the' surburbs
told
. me, "We had been prayin' and
Sittin' out lookin' for ye. Pse fattening
two turkeys for yer soldiers. But yaht"
with an indescribable glee,." dey wouldn't
wait for me to cook 'em. Dey catch 'em;
wring dere heads off, and eat"'em 'fore I
know'd it. Smart Yankees! I like to
-see it," and then came another jolly
African laugh.
I found that numbers of prisoners who
escaped . from Millen and Anderson had
for weeks and months been sheltered and
fed by the negroes Of tSavannah, Borne,
two thousand dollars having been ex 2
Vended by - them for this 'purpose. Their
description of the approach of General
Sherman's army was very graphic.
" We hearn dat mornin' de big. guns and
clap our hands." " No," massa said,
" dems our -guns." " Neber mind, (we
tole him, de Yankees oomin' any hew.
nre
,Wee's glad to see General Hardee's n
goin' over de poontooners ; den we kno 'd.
you cumin'."
.As our army came in, few white pe o ple,
were seen, and these looking pale'and
frightened_; but the negroes crowded .the
piazzas, doors, yards, and fences witblhe
happiest expressions of welcome. Thy
went to work at once preparing sue
food as they had for our men, wash'
for, and waiting on them ; quite gain
the hearts of the boys. You seldom no
hear a soldier who came through Georgi
speak against the negroes. On the:,c4-
trary, they are constantly drawing in
vidious comparisons between their capa
city, and morals too, and those of the poor
whites. As the soldiers had just been,
paid, they gave good prices to the negroes)
for all these things, and the consequence
is, they are able at present to procur I
e
more comforts than most of their forme
masters. The hitter, after a few days,
were pressed by bitter necessity to offer,
the same service.
A few thousands who straggled through ,
with Sherman are suffering. While the,
men were at once employed as laborers,.
and are now enlisted as soldiers, the
women, children, and aged ones hive to
be fed by Government. They are in
rag - s and with poor shelter ; and I re- 1
joice to learn that clothing is coming
from the North. Their colored friends
in the city have already provided a com
fortable hospital for their sick.
An intense desire is manifested among
all to learn to read. Even these camps
of stragglers would spring to their feet
and rush forward as I went among them
with that little elementary paper The .
Freedman. I found scores, even — there,
who, could read a little. When ques
tioned on the subject "we stole it" was
always their reply. " Now we spect to
get him free." Freedom and knowledge
are their leading thoughts.
The Savannah colored people have as
sociated for school purposes, and have
already ten schools in operation, includ
ing, in the aggregate, five hundred chil
dren. They are to be self-supporting,
mainly (one thousand dollars have already
been contributed) though under the pat
ronage of the American Missionary As
sociation. One negro, who came with
the army from forty miles beyond Atlanta,
handed me ten dollars for the support'of
these schools. General Geary has fur
nished buildings—one of which is the old
slave mart of Alexander Bryan, on Market
Square. I gathered up the instruments
of torture from that large shamble for
human flesh, in which now are daily
sitting two hundred happy children learn
ing from their spelling books. Are not
these ;things of God
Yours, truly, J. W. .A.LVoRD.
P.S. FORTRESS MONROE, Jan. 19th.—
You have beard that Fort Fisher is
taken. It was a very severe struggle,
but glorious. A gunboat is alongside
of us with three hundred wounded
sailors and marines, going to the hos
pital at Portsmouth. The land forces
lost probably seven hundred killed and
wounded, perhaps one thousand. I
have conversed with the commanders of
the ships which came on ; they describe
the battle in the most glowing . terms.
The smaller gunboats and monitors, when
they left, were going up to take the
pirates, and perhaps the city. Our land
forces are marching, as these officers say,
in the rear of the river batteries. This
added victory will be a terrible blow to
the rebels. How will English blockaders
like it ? I hope to return soon with
reading matter for both army and navy;
while we hope to send a large,quantity
to them througli
the Chri.l°Commis -
Sion. Ask the auleifes to;pray earnestly
for -God's bles-144upon it all.
ionrs, J. W. A.
Auati
,
A. M. WART'S IAT TER. '-
W. MN; Ti. - 0., Jan. 27, '65:
o l DPON .THE . ; PRESIDENT.
- .-
ti Dx4iked and pleasing contrast with
the nationalities of the Old World is the
,ready.access of all classeg in-our own to
those high ' iu pinee and power. Even
upon the:President free calls are only
limited.bY,the the.: wlio take ad-
Vantage of the license, and his necessary
attention to ether and more important
Main:don.
Joining lately, an afte'rnoon crowd in
the *late House, which had come from
all directions to press here their indi
vidual claims, wants, petitions, schemes,
and grievances, an opportunity was
thus afforded for witnessing how such
things are done at the seat of power in
this puissant civil and military. Yankee
nation. Thirty to forty anxious looking
men with a dozen still more anxious
women were waiting in the ante-room
their turn tor audience.
Presently the door opening into the
cabinet-room was thrown open, and there
sat beside an ordinary office-table, and
upon 'a plain chair, a sedate, coarse fee
tured, weary, care. worn,.
sad looking
man--animation seems not natural but
borrowed—this man, withal in, plain citi
zen's dress, wielding more power and
having resting upon him more responsi
ties than 'any other on earth—President
of the United States and Commander
in-Chief of her armies and navies, now
the largest and most invincible on earth.
All in the outer room at once arose and
fell >into line like a crowd approaching
the window of a post-office. When near,
enough in the line to hear distinctly, the
reply of the President to one who pre
sented a handful of documents was, " I
have already examined this case, and
there seems nothing to change the judg
ment then given."
The next presented an open letter, and,
after brief examination, the bearer Was
assured " That the E.xecutive could not
undertake to find employment for the
people."
The writer's turn was next. No
shaking of hands or salutations in these
,business interviews; the President hardly
lifting his head or turning his face or
eyes, as one and another came and went.
At'this moment a private secretary came
along the line, escorting a plain looking
woman, and whispered: " Her case is
an urgent one : let her have a hearing
noW ;" and at once she was in the pres
ence of his Excellency.
" What is wanted, madam ?"
"Such a young man, of such "a regi-
I ment and State, is condemned to be shot
for desertion, and I came to ask, Mr.
President, that you pardon him."
" But perhaps he ought to be-shot"?"
"No he oughtn't, Mr. President. He's
but a siMple-minded boy, only nineteen,
and he has a simple sister at home. He
only deserted from one regiment to an
another."
1 " Are you his mother ?"
" No ; his mother's dead, and his father
don't care. I'm his aunt. There are
ineteen of his relations in the army, and
he's the only one who has done badly."
" A strong plea in his behalf this.
Have you any evidence to show that he
is to be shot ?"
i" Yes ; here's a letter says so."
The President takes the letter and
begins to read, in a slow monotone:
" pear father and mother, I take my pen
in hand to inform you that I am well at
present, and hoping these few lines may
find you enjoying the same blessing."
Here was ta slight pause, when in the
same monotone same monotone the reader went on:
" Dear father and mother I have to in
form you that 'the other day was
drummed out dfcamp. There was sixty
drummers with a lot of fifers, and a
grand show. T 4 fellow did look sheepish.
I tell you, father'and mother, a chap can't
squint about here like he can at home."
With imperturbable gravity the eyes
were lifted from the paper, and turned to
the presenter with the inquiry : " Is this
about the boy that is to be shot ?"
"It's in'it somewhere, Mr. President."
The scene was here so serio-comic, all
present, except the President and the pe
titioner, were strongly impelled to laugh
ter. Without the motion of an unneces
sary muscle the reading of the letter was
resumed.
"Dear father and mother, I have to
inform you that on the 12th of this month
such a one is to be shot for desertion."
" Why, woman, the boy has been shot
a,week. This is the 20th."
"No he hasn't, Mr. President. It's
been put off, and we want you to pardon
him."
Taking his pen and writing briefly,
the despatch was then read aloud:
" General Grant, if such a soldier, of
company --, regiment State
be not already shot, suspend and refer
case to me."
" Now, that will do," says the seem
ingly cold, yet evidently kind-hearted
man. The woman turns away sobbing
lustily, yet seemingly well satisfied with
her mission, and in admiration of the
President.
The writer's business and interview
will be written of again.
Such a daily, crowded, hurried, uncer
tain and unsatisfactory mode of hearing
and disposing of so many cases—impor
tant at least to the applicants—must
strike every thoughtful mind as incon
gruous. A greater flan the President
once trip`thsuch a mode of procedure, yet
rielde'd' to wholesome couittel. And
Moies'fathei-in-law saidt,lithy sittest
thou thyself mlone,- and a 1,140 ...pe ple
stand:lo7'o63 from morning Unto ()Vow?
Thmi.wilt surely wear away:tith thou
and This people. Provide abbe men, such
as fear God, men of truth, hating covet
ousness, to judge the people at all sea
sons, bringing every great matter to
thee." A. M. STEWART.
THE SEEN kND THE UNSEEN.
It has always been one of the great
errors of fallen man, that he looks too
much at the seen. He wants to walk by
sight, to see before he steps, to see where
he steps, to know the consequences. It
is not sufficient for him to know that God
has promised. He loves the things which
he can see, feel, touch, taste, and enjoy
in this life. He wants the bird in the
hand. Hence those things which are the
mere objects of faith do not occupy his
time, thoughts, feelings, and heart.
While he walks by sight, and looks
only at the things that are seen, every
thing appears in undue proportions.
Earthly things seem to •be the great
things, the only things which are worth
enjoying. Temporal evils are also mag
nified. Pains, sufferings, afflictions, losses,
crosses, temptations, and deaths, appear
to be the only evils of earth. They fancy
that the great end of life is to enjoy
earth's good things, and escape its evils.
Those things which are often the greatest
blessings appear to be its greatest evils.
Paul could realize that all his afflic
tions and trials were light, and compara
tively but for a moment; but they worked
out for him a far more exceeding and
eternal weight of glory. -Let one who
looks at things as they appear, look at
what Paul had to endure—such as mere
man, has 'seldom or never endured—and
he would think him to be of all men the
most imiserable; but could he have en
tered the inner chamber of his heart, he
would have found that he was of all men
the most happy. Though he seemed to
be always sorrowing, he was always re
joicing. Though he bore about him in
his body the dying of the Lord Jesus, he
had joys that were unspeakable and full
of glory. He was far from being, what
he seemed to be—far from what the world
.Auld judge him to be—incomparably more
happy than'the man who seemed to have
everything to enjoy and almost nothing
to endure Ah, the world is not wl2at it
seems to be; men are not what they seem
to be; afflictions are not what they seem
to be; joys- and pleasures are not what
they seem to be; giddy, laughing, care
less, light and trifling persons do not al
ways have light hearts. They are often
the very farthest from being light and
joyful. That which is seen of them is
not the true index of their hearts. That
which is seen of the world is not the true
index of its character.
"A French physician was once con
sulted by a person who was subject to
most gloomy fits of melancholy. He ad
vised his friend to mix in scenes of gaiety,
and particularly to frequent the Italian
theatre ; and added : If Carline does
not expel your gloomy complaint, your
case must be desperate indeed.' The re
ply of the patient is worthy of the atten
tion of all those who frequent such places
in search of happiness, as it shows the
unfitness and insufficiency of these amuse
ments: - 'Alas sir, lam Carlin ! and
while I divert Paris with mirth, and
make them almost die with laughter, I
myself am dying with melancholy and
chagrin.'" Ah, the world's pleasures
and joys are but tinsel and show—they
are but gilded misery.• Disappointment
and misery await:him who looks only at
the seen, and seeks the seen. He relies
on that which is prefeetly unsatisfying.
If, like Paul, we are not looking at the,
things which are seen, but at the things
which are not seen, we are seeking and
relying on realities—upon substance, and
not mere visions, upon that which can
satisfy. JAMES KERR.
WOMEN'S UNION MISSIONARY SOCIETY.
This Society held its fourth annual
meeting on Monday evening, in Dr. Storr's
church, Brooklyn. A large number from
New York and Brooklyn were present to
hear the report, and listen to Dr. Jonas
King, of-Athens, Greece, and Rev:Henry
M. Scudder, who has spent twenty-seven
years of his life in India. '
Dr. King expressed his pleasure at
again returning to his native land, the
noblest on the globe. He was sent
out thirty-six years ago, a missionary to
Greece, by the aid of some ladies. He
finds but four of these dear friends living,
and one of the four is the President
of this Society. It has long been his
opinion that American women are fore
most in labors of love—their unpar
alleled devotion to the soldiers prove
it true. Urging this Society to go for
ward and give the Bible, which had ele
-rated them so high, - to their heathen Si!
ters, he closed his remarks.
Dr. Scudder, in a speech of great beauty
and eloquence, pictured the condition of
women in India. Their sacred laws de
clara that women have no separate exis
tence apart from their fathers and hus
bands; they live in their husbands, whom
they must reverence as the God in whom
they will be finally lifted up and saved.
Women must not be taught, lest they
should think or act for themselves. Many
of the men of India are highly educated,
particularly those in the large cities.
They speak English perfectly . , quote Eng
lish writers with ease and elegance ; as a
consequence, they begin to - demand edu
cation for their wives. Educated men
will not now choose wives that cannot
read—but how can they be taught. ?
Female education is the great question
of India at this time. Zenan'a schools
are
,e - pringing #ll Calcutta and Other
cities. English and American( ladies -go
to the women's apartments of thbflie r ealthy
natives; and bY fad and en • * this
love. and - confidence; Of their ape
daughters, teaching them to Arier:,em
broider, paint, read, and write ; Old when
the right moment comes, telling the story
of Jesus and his free salvation. The
sweet story of Jesus is in this way being
told in many of the secluded abodes of
ignorance and cruel bondage.
To this Society, and their Calcutta
teacher, Miss Britten, Dr. Scudder gave
his unqualified approval, saying, there is
room in India for this agency, and many
more like it. The only thing which did
not meet his favor was that this Society
was doing too little. He urged extended
effort and increased means, that the mil
, lennial day might soon dawn on the hun
dreds of millions who are living without
the knowledge of Christ.
Dr. Willetts read touching extracts
from Miss Brittan's report, showing how
eagerly some of her pupils drink in the
Word of Life. A collection of $4lO was
taken up.
rtitiar's Alt.
MAGAZINES AND PAMPHLETS
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY for February
contains : "Our First great Painter and
his Works" (Washington Allston), an
article which all American admirers of
the painter's art should read. "Doctor
Johns," the commencement of anew story
by Marvel. "Roger Brooke Taney,"
a severe criticism of the decisions of the
late Chief Justice on slavery, whose po
sition, in the critical period of our history,
gave his decisions an historical and mel
ancholy significance. He did, says the
writer, more than any other individual,—
more than any President, if not more than
all,--more in one hour than the Legisla
ture inthirty years,—to extend the slave
power. "The Mantle of St. John de
Matha, a Legend of the 'Red, White and
Blue,' 1154-1864;" Ballad—poetical
adaptation of a story of the middle ages
to our own era of Emancipation. "Nee
dle and Garden—Story of a Seamstress
who laid down her Needle and became a
Strawberiy-girl." Somewhat expanded
and fatiguing with details, yet novel and
graphic. The seamstress is just about
leaving the needle, With which her expe
riences have been hard enough, for the
sewing-machine. " Notes of a Pianist,"
by the celebrated performer—Gottschalk.
" Garnaut Hall," a powerful tale of retri
bution, well-wrought into blank verse ;
one's blood is thrilled, and one's con
science cries heartily, "Amen 1" to the
terribly just teaching of the catastrophe.
Pity that its opening lines are marred
with an infidel conceit. " The Pleiades
of Connecticut" effectually evaporates the
-literary pretensions of seven Connecticut
aspirants foipoetic fame about the time
of the Revolution: Trumbull, Dwight as
author of the "Conquest of Canaan,"
David Humphreys, Joel Barlow, author
of the " Vision of Columbus," Dr. Lem
uel Hopkins, Richard Alsop, and Theo
dore Dwight. Trumbull's " MeFingal "
was very popular on both sides of the
Atlantic in its day. Thirty editions of it
were sold in this country. Several good
lines in it are generally ascribed to Hudi
bras. The following couplet, particularly,
should be ascribed' to the American poem:
"No man e'er felt the halter draw
With good opinion of the law."
" Ice and Esquimaux," lively notes of a
naturalist's hunting expedition on, the
coast of Labrador. " The Old House,"
a homely sentiment, touchingly expressed
in four -stanzas. " Memoirs of Authors
—Coleridge." " The Chimney-Corner,"
No. 2 of a capital series—a continuation
of House and Home Papers, in another
vein. The -home duty of silence under
small provocations, the sin of petty fault
finding, and the grace and virtue of
praise, are admirably enforced and illus
trated.
" Pro Patria," an elegant and
fitting tribute to, a late fallen, unnamed
hero. "A Fortnight with the Sanitary."
"Art--Hostuer's Zenobia." A very in
telligible art criticism ; any reader can
understand it ; the absurd rhapsodies of
many art critics are eschewed utterly,
and we really gain a satisfactory idea of
the work of art in question. Frothing
ham's Phi,losophy is ably handled by the
book critic; who, however, seems to see
very grave objections to it, because it fails
to recognize "the gravious influence of
Charming ; the stalwart conviction of
Parker, the deep perception of Emerson,"
and considers it unfortuntite that the au
thor could not sit, in conclave with such
practical counsellors aa ` Henry James,
Herbert Spencer, Mr. Emerson, and Dr.
Draper! Behold the. deities of the AT
,LANTIO t Shall we congratulate the jour
nal that it refuses to add Frothinghana to
its pantheon?