fantitg Cirdt,
THE VICTIM.
BY ALSEND TENNYSON
A plague upon the people fell, .
A famine after laid them low:
Then thorpe and byre arose in fire,
For on them brake the sudden foe;
So thick they died, the people cried,
"The gods are moved against the land."
The priest in horror about his altar,
To Thor and Odin lifted a hand:
"Help us from famine
And plague and strife I
What would you have of us'
Human life?
Were it our nearest,
Were it our dearest,
(Answer—oh, answer!)
We give you his life."
But still the foeman spoiled and burned,
And cattle died, and deer in wood,
And bird in air, and fishes turned
And whitens 1 all this rolling flood ;
And dead men lay all over the way,
Or down in a furrow scathed with dame,
And ever and aye the priesthood moaned,
Till at last it seemed that an answer came
" The King is happy
In child and wife;
Take-you his nearest,
Take you his dearest—
Give us a life,"
The priest went out by heath and bill ;
The King was hunting in the wild ;
They found the mother sitting still;
Olip , etkat her arms about , the - chihk
The child vas only eight summers
its beauty still . With, his years diktrealo ;
His fseoWaLruddy, Arat4filt:l- 7 )-
lie seemed'a victim due fire
Thepriept.e.Atiltect, N.. '
And dried 'With joy,
" here iy his nearest,
4-e, is. his - dearest -L.
- hike the hey
V. , '
-
The,Kingreturned frii'MAO-the wit*
He bore but little game ielitifir
The mother said, " They have taken the child,
To spill his blood and heal theland ;
The land is sick and the people diseased,
And blight. and famine on all the'lea:
The holy gods, they must be appeased,
So I pray you tell the truth to me.
They have taken our son,' •
They will hare his life.
Is he your nearest ?
Is he your dearest ? •
(Answer--oh, answer!)
Or I, the wife':"
The King bent low, with hand on brow ;
He stayed his arms upon his knee;
" Oh, wife, what use to answer now,
For now the priest has
_judged for me ?",",
The, King was shaken with holy fear ; •
":The gods," he said, "would have oh osen'well;
Yet both are near, and loth are dear,
And which the dearest 1 cannot tell!"
•
But the priest was happy,
His
" We have his nearest,
We have hi 4 dearest,
Kis only, son 1 ." „
The ribs prepared, the-victim bared,
The knife uprising toward the We*,
To the altar stone she sprang alone—
" Me, me— not him, my darling—no !"
He naught her away with a sudden cry ;
Suddenly from him brake the wife.
And shrieking, " /am his dearest, I
I am his dearest !" rushed on the knife!
Ancl the prie at was happy !
" 0, Father Odin,
We give you a life!
Which was the nearest ?
Which was his dearest?
The gods,have answered :
We give them thewife,l7 ,•
[Good Words for January,
THE COTTAGE ON THE MOUNTAIN.
High up on a mountain, just under. the
shelter of a friendly rock,,there stood a
little cottage, which looked, from the valley
below, like a swallow's nest built in a wall.
You would - hardly - think that ivy could grow
so high up; yet the cottage of old Mr. Lam
seri and his wife was covered with a splen
did growth of ivy. The roof was covered
with straw, and stones were placed here
and there over it to keep thethatelrin plaee.
There Was a little garden stretching. back
of the, house; but the only. occupant
,of the
premises,.save the old .man and Ilia wife, was
a goat, which had bean their pet for a num
ber of years.
One beautiful spring morning, the old wo
man was leading a lit le girl up to the cot
tage; but by and by, little Lorlie became
so tired that she could not walk any further.
Then said Mrs. Lamson: "I Will carry you,
poor child l for yon have come with me a
long distance, and I know you are very
tired."
"But, grandmother, I am heavy, and you
are old," said the child.
" Oh l no, you are not so .heavy. I am
used to carrying heavy things up to our
little cottage, and I am sure I can carry
you."
So little Lorlie was soon on the old wo
man's back,. and after an hour 'and a half
they were both within the enclosure of the
little ivy-clad house. 'Old Mr. Lamsen
greeted his wife and little Lorlie, whom he
had never seen before, with a, pleasantsmile,
as he brushed his gray locks back off his
ears with his rough mountaineer hands.
His wife said to him: "I went to the Or
plian-house yesterday, in the town of . N—,
and told the gentleman having-charge ofit
that I wanted a little girl to live with us
and be our child. You know that is what
we agreed upon a good while age, if we
could ever find a little orphan girl to suit us."
" Yes," said-he; you are quite right, and
I 'am glad you have brought this little,girl.
But how did you happen to select her from
so many others ?"
"I will tell you the real reason," she an
swered. "The gentleman showed
.me a
great many children ) of different ages',4nd
from different countries, I confess that I
did not fancy- any of them particularly,
though that may have been my fault. As
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, MARCH 19, 1868.
I was going out with him to examine the
grounds, I saw a little girl jumping the rope.
She had such a happy face, and when she
saw me she wished me such a pleasant
good-morning,' that I was attracted to her
at once. I went up to her and kissed her,
and after I did so, I noticed that the tears
came into her eyes; and when she said,
You did kiss me so much like my mother
used to do'—and then her eyes reminded me
very much of our dear little Carl's eyes,
whom we lost so many years ago—l said
immediately in my heart, 'lf I can take
this little girl, I will do so,' for I knew you
would like her. I asked the gentleman if
he would permit me to have her;, and he
said : Yes. She is a little girl that,lthink,
you will love very much. then asked
him what was her history, and his reply
was somothing
"i It is impossible to 'all" 'ili:3'histOry of
many of the ehildreh that we receive; but
I know, at least, a portion of the history of
little Lorlie. Her pafehtiyfiad f ,,Onirgrafed
from a Silesian village, ; and were on their
Way to Hamburg to talte'passage for Aine
rica as emigrants. But the 'typhus fever
happened to be raging , at Silesia at the time
they left, and they had not more than
reached our town before both of, them , ,fath
er aranidther, were taken sielt - 7,a.na - 130011
died. The child was taken care of by the
proprietor of the little inn, where-they load
stopped . fer.a week or two„ until I heard-the
eirchm'stancei, when I hadlier'protnptly re
moved _to my Orphan Asylum. Thepareats
left no papers describing their circumstan
ces, and even the little girl's name was not
knOwn: She called herself Lorlie and' so I
wrote that in our registry as 'he,r 'name.
She r has been a very dutiful, happy, and
loving child, from the time I took her to
the present.. And that is that I can tell
you about her.'"
" You did right to take her," said the old
man ';'''''t'ati'd,..with" . God's Messing, we *ill do
our beat to' supply the pdace of her own pa
rents." . ,
Lorne gr6w' rapidly der the iiiibience
of thefresh a
mountain'itir, and assisted' old
&tr. and Dirs. liamsen, whona she .called
grandfather and; grand. mother, in i oy_vx pos
sible way. 'She soon - exhibited a-itt4thYdr
readg,,,and whep,she, beciyme,olgiciaqugh
she.attendeiPthe Village Eithoollt tile valley
below. One day, whenishe was &little over
tWelte y 4 4 11. of ,age, ; she ..i.&cf '.e.hild'e
paper about' how.a little American girl"had
been BO useful in starting and conducting a
Sunday-school. She `then said to heiself:
"Why.cannot I -do they same thing?" So
she tbought, overit i and prayed over
good, deal, and at last deter Mined to litrtaid
subject before - her grand Parents:
The oh.4e,eple shook their heads anti_dis
couraged her somewhat—" For," said
".you are not old "'enough `, for gab' mil:l4r
tant work; and, besides, with: your.present
studies and with your duties at'horne, we
don't think you have time enough"
" said she . -" can 'do all itiat I
de.now,.artri.catt. also invite a little Sunday
school,provided the children will come to
it, will you have any objections then?"
They. a3asNieilciltital4. r Vat affk fear
was her, health , wpuld - _ :
"But," said she, , "if my health continues
good after I have commenced, and I find
that I am perfectly able to do it with all
the rest of my..w,ogk, you then, con
sent rest „ ,
The old people . - *pre ve,ry gOod, and ac
cu,se
(11 1 1 SF 1 4° ,- kro.:Y.,eibi944 ,- ,tkgixPPlct!Cl99l 2 .li - 2n
w as very natural one..
"-Have, you :mired the ,Saviour
they." - • '
" Yes," replied LOriie," 1, have asked Hirn
a great many times, and He has always ail
s wered the sktaleithirtgq miust , work the
W,Cl l lc§9f Mea that•eeet , tine, •whiledtds•xilam
the: ight= cometh, when' no marifean„*OA,'", - .
The!.old.people gawe tb air const n t,,
and Lori e' -next careo vita-VP eels. dher little
friends, and,,get them,,to promise 'tdc:Orie
to her Sunday-schOol, which met on Sunday
afternoons, at tint in a little room
that her grandpatents hired, for lief - in the
village below. She took great pains to in
terest the children and secure them good
teachers. As the school increased, her un
dertaking became very successful, and it
grew frein:year to year, until neakyall the
children in-the village, became reemberw•of
it.
Old Mr.. Lamsen and his wife died about
the time that Lorlie became a young lady.
And now I must tell youu - a remarkable cir
cumstance that occurred, not,, , lorlg before
their death. , One day the, old man received
a letter from the proprietor of tile 'Orphan,: ;
house from which his wife bad taken Lorlie
years before. The letter was to the follow
ing effect :
"The history of little Loilie, whom • you
took from my Orphan-house, a number of
years ago, was not fully known to me at
the time when I committed her into your
hand §i, but since tben it has fully come ,to
light/ A lawyer from Silesia came to our
town some weeks ago, and instituted inqui
ries in reference to the two persons who
died at the inn of typhus fever. Those per
sons were Lorlie's parents, and the lawyer
has ascertained facts in Connection with
them which will be of interest to you. the
identified them by mseiins of a letter written
by the father to a friend at home, dated
Globe Hotel, April 16th, 1846.' This letter
has been preset ved, and it is by means of it
that I am now able to tell You, through thEi.'
friend to whom it was written, the history
of Lorlie's parents. Her father was named
Carl. Lamsen, and ho came to Silesia many.
years ago, when a little boy. Ho never •
could give any account of himself, except
that his parents lived in a little house cover
ed,with ivy, high up on the mountains; and,
that when he went down the valley one'
day, the stage-drivergave . hini a ride to the
other end of his stage route. He, wandered
off, when there, without thiriking,,of it, and
the stage-driver could nOf find 'him again.
Young Carlwent from place to, place, and
at,last went to Silesia, where he learned a
tradonarried, and acquired some proper-
ty. Through the influence of friends who had
emigrated to America, ho made up his mind
to go, too, and take his wife and only child,
a little girl named Lorlie, with him. The
rest of their history you know already. As
you will see, from what I have written, the
tittle girl whom you received from me, and
who has lived with you ever since, is none
other than your own grandchild, the only
daughter of your son Carl I"
It is impossible to describe' the effect
which this letter had upon old Mr. and Mrs.
Lamsen, and upon Lorlie; but somehow, in
a way I cannot describe, both old Mrs. Lam
sen and Lorlie had had the impression, for
a long time, that they were related to each
other in some very near way; but neither
one ever eariresspd her opinion on the sub
ject. And thus, by ..a strange . providence,
the facts came to light; and when the old
people died; they were able to. bestow not
only their blessing .upon their own grand
daughter, but to leave in her hands . the.
pro
perty of her parents, whichjd the, Mean
time had gteatly. , increased value.' But
Lorlie,thotigli nowt young lady, and placed
in easy circumstances; never forgdtl her Suri=
day-school, nor could any of the children,
who& she loved iso ever say ''"Our
superintendent tgkes less pains with us to
day, or loves us 'less than when she first
corm n e,nee her S d ayps /the
Geitna7i in fre Iltetkodik.
GENERAL CLINTON , B. -Fist Erarrates the
following, nstance .of su.blimo Christian de
votion :
" I remember one old lady in Illinois, how
she gave all' she' la'd to the cause of the
nation. When the call for troops came in
1861, when Massachusetts' blood had made
red the pavements of Baltimore, when
everybedy in the West rose up to go, on
the'hanks 'of the Mississippi there lived an
old widow
„7/91,fiati)E - 11.0 h:m3hEireir *IV lb`
his grave. She had, but one child in the
World, a n0b1ii„,494, sixteen years of age.
She, took him from the plough and the har
row, acid to You must go and
fight for' your country. This great river
that flows' by otir , farm must wash the
shores' of but one conntry on its pilgrimage
to the 'sea!' '
" The' boy niarehed off to battle. He
Went with inethroligh many a weary march,
and bloody fight; `add' skirmish. He was a
Ohiistian boy;-rented'in the Sunday-school,
and he always carried his Bible with him.
" In ettiefe() - rotir aeingagem&tslLhe Ew
wounded ; , the, surgeon told him he would
die. _Charley sp,id he would like to see his
mother, but he hadn't ruoicy entagytooend
for her. The Soldier , beys'-`df Int? - ese.ort-L4
and generous • souls they were—gathered
around him and.madEs up a purse, and sent
away outip the) bale it?fi litkohlf2r- his
mother to',come to see him. - I r emember
when she presented herself at my headquar
ters, chee,,rfnl aye happy,, wikil l ti.ylble and
a lifetligiiSt . hyinii' book in satchel. I
took hoar, to the . hospital She , • took. his
hand, cheerfully thanking God that she. saw
him alive, and there she sat, day after day,
watching all' the child`she had in the world
—watching foi: ' -
"As ImedihroughAhat. hospital one
• .11
mornin`g, 'at - the eot'of eb - arley,
saw the'ideatbAkmp on Ms brOW
Were dim ; hispulse,o2Nafts getting
took.him . by `he htkid atie4Aid
i" How is it this .mornine
`,` Said•he,
to the front,' and eyes- brrghtened: 'Ms
mother stood 1:6y4 himpsinging
5 4 Jesus• can -rtirtke-a , dying- betl , • .• ' •
folort 4s dowp:KpilVW;s Are,- •
. NIL e oaThis 6reast. I_ lead. rqy head
And J)reiitlielriy- life- out - sweetly there.'
She gape n p . ,:iyiy;•hoy as 9110,,rtully se
you would give a dGilar. We,buried him
in the svVan)p. Shb Went to his rtuietiikiinif
thanked God she ha - d -- a son to give to the
nation
" Such graves are scattered all over the
country.' Tbey ;wit - tallfty that-we:
shall not let this governi:nent of the,people,
for th`e pe - bpie, 4 - people; - perish
from the earth.
T 4 •. :rr
0- Gns Fiurries eternal/camping -ground- - -
Their siterkt lents, are spread,
And glory guards,svitli solemn round,.
- ;Th VI
BEAUTIFUL` AND TRUE.
At a festival party, 'of, ald. sad 'young; the
question, Nits sake& • Which . season , of life
•is-Tost happy? After'being freelydiscnssed
by ttaftuests, it was referred 'for answer to
rri ,
the host, upon ,iv,I;Lo was the burden of
fourscore years N et: ed tkcy had not
i n
noticed a, "kroupt_ oda e ' , I y d ening,
and sajd . :44Vi9l3 - en,the spring ~ • :'end in
tlre soft ache bud( are breakfn oplltie
trees, aVI they aig=doverell with blo4onits,
I - think hoW laeautiful is spriml,:-And isAt
the 'bummer cornis,, and' eoVers the - trees
with its heavy foliage, and singing birds are
all among tha.,brknolies,,l thibk ho Wr•beauti
ful is tiuminerr W
'hen-autinati load them
with-dolden , fruit, and their leaves bear - the
gorgeous tint of frost;lthink howfbeautiful
is autumn! And when it iaiere winter, and
there is neither foliage nor fruit, thou I look
up, and thrbuglr the "leliflearrbrank:hes, as I
eould never until now:, .1 see the stars shine
through."--Dr. Adams.
This, we think% it very beautiful, and
what is better ,still, exactly Aly., Rack ;
Beason has its charms.. Life is a progression,
and the seasons beyond y,opthAan, only be
properlyli)preclatcci an`h-enjoyedlnspropor
tion as with thedgogress of time we really
develop ourselves into them. If an unde
veloV6Vj-iintb 'ethild suddenly be placed
into the, season pi middle age, or if the
.
young man of middle age 'could, •in like.man
ner; be ushered into the season of Old age,
he would not enjoy ii; Ne wnuld not think
it beautifiils he, riiilid- not be happy. , The
reason, would be, :that he has not regularly
grain into th'e seasoil,; that he is ip the:'
middle season with the feelings and charac
ter of youth, or in the season of age with
the untamed vigor of middle life. To enjoy
the season of youth, we must be young; to
enjoy that of middle life, we must be in the
full tide of our powers of body and mind;
and to enjoy that of age, we must be old.
This fact, if properly understood, would
save a great deal of anxiety and distress.
The young, fascinated with the season of
youth, are often found fretting in view of
the rapid passage of days which threatens
to leave them sooner than they then feel is
pleasant, beyond this halcyon season, into
another, which for them carries with it no
such rich charms. With still more serious
apprehension do those in middle life: mark
the years that are silently conducting them
to what they call the "joyless season -of
old age." They worry themselves about
crossing the, bridge before they come to it,
and forget the great fact that, when our
vigor is developed, the season of middle life
will be adapted to tts,,,and that when we
reach the season of old age, we-shall in like
manner, feel a complete adaptation. to it, and
that this adaptation is one essential condition
of our happmess.. Each season prepares its
own judgment; and each may be, equally
beautiful, if we shall be found, when We reach
it, properly prepared for it. "nut the
last is instrinsically the highest and the
richest, as in this, with due preparation, in
volving the active exertion of youth and
manhood, it looks more steadily up to-the
bright Star of 'Hope. through the "leafless
branches," and reposes more fa' in the heal
venly and divine—langing ascend addbe
at rest.
The same fact holds true in regard to the
duties, temptatiohs, and afflibtions which,
before we come to them, we'fear and 'dread.
When we actually meet them', they are
always different things friiiii.,whaf *4 feared
they would be, 'hecense we, ire better - pre
pared for them ; Even the. dread of death,
which we often, deeply feel when we are
in good imalth, is removed, if we are true to
the present, when the moment
.`of -1 diesel atior?
comes.—Ref mined' Chio'ch.
VALETUDINARIAN CHRISTIANITY.
That highly entertaining, if riot absolute
ly lively case, which, under the title of
"Martin:v. Mackonochie,"l-13 destiiied to play
no unimportant. part iu theliistou of ecele-•
siasticar dispute in the nineteenth century,
has afforded us matter , for e g obd deal: of SoL,
ber reflection., pr this, NoWever, hereafter.
For.the 'Moment, we merely, wish to.,scig-,
gest t 44 churchmen .of amertain school &new
line of defence that has been recently sup
plied by one of . theatile.eounsel'efigaged for
the - deferidant.' anxiety` to blear his
Client froma4' possible iotipcon fryikropri
sty in the :habitual use Of ineense, ~the:
Ipai-riPd gentle.rncrt in question ; •(was,it Mr.;
Prideaux ?) hinted' that this rituali'stic addi,
tion to the services at St. Albaniu, might
have' beeri made on strictly sanitary princi
ples. 'TheCorigregatii *it'`was
composed of fhb - dregs - cif a bad . ti,piVtiliOr- -
hood, and, in"' slioß, needed a.decided fumy
option. This. idea is at once, original and
vigorous. It, places Ritualism : on quite, a
different .basis, and, if it. does :not reflect
much credit on the discretionoof its peol
pounder, it 'at least says agood dearfor that
gebtleinun'S
v alor. Here isa challenge Mil - 4
boldly ifitOthe "very face of the*c9rd that
even that; araiablY-disposedjournal mayant :
be unable to overlook.; Who in the world'.
can object to such Ritualism as; thie? No;
symbol, no doctrine—nothing but mere
gienic firecatition Let us suggest "
some
thing in the sh ape, of„kcatechism, that intik
disarm all further opposition :
Q.—What:is-the.eopel
A.--A sort of ecclesiastical overcoat, to
be z worn by rheumatically. disposed •miais,
ters. ,
•V.—CSil you tell:ins it first cam
intousel • - •
A.-H-Yes; in the year A...1X, 372, When,
regory lll,Allopted it as n „preventive;
against influenza. ,
li.'-=-QUite'right, my child; and tiOW can
you ti3ll ll the .Why it is' sometimes adorned
with worked, towers, :and variously &me
mented with fringe, gold, or satin?
A.--When thfx case is -considered severe,
these things are not, unfrequently added
for the sole" purpose of increasing""itS
warmth.
Q.—You rightly- , referoceremonial to its
true origin—a desire to minister to the com
fOit:and health of those eugaged iri`services
of a religious Character.- Can you tell
me why candles are lightethupon the altar
A.—Yes, I QUI, and . will. , They are
lighted in order that , the heat,prodaced by
combustion may create an upward current
of Air, and' `thus carryofrth 13 - mai:int gasubi.
unfreciudicitly - generited' in .drowded
of public resort • • t
Q.—Ybu are quite right, my -child ; 1 and
now let me heAr pat!, reply brAe t ffy, to, the,
questionl,A am ooup to put, to you., wky
is the surplee t (vb - rit in the pulpit'"?
It a color that is - painful to the
eyes. Out at cOnsideration`fOr those of the
congregation' who are -Affected by -loo L king
at the black goWn,,,the , white surplice is
worn. ,
Q.—What- is the' use of
,flowers ?
A.--They Supply oxygen, and thereby
leounteraetthe injariouw:effeets of too ,
carbonic acid. ' -
Q.--Why is the.service intoued 2
A:—To gtrengthen the lungs of'the mints
ter and lEoe:congregation.
the cirgan to be itsell throngly4
out ? •
A.—For the purpos?„ of, itty,imr,t i ips,,the
legs of tho organist, and of giving p r lewy"ot
exercise`to the`bl(3w6F. ' ;
talk ofexereise; rnyiehilii. Can
you nowtell me why processions in. clitoral),
are not,:urigrequently organized?
A .- 7 -tes. 4xerei.se is in itself.# heaNifra,
anci therefor. 3 deirable- think. Procep'steMs
fri
are, therere,'Orianited church, in order
that the officiating elergyAnd choristers may
the benefit of a walk.
Q.—Quite right, my child. And now, pe r .
baps you can tell me, lastly, why, in tlez,e
processions banners are often carried ?
A.—l can. They are to provide againt
rain, in the event of the roof suddenly
mg in.
And so on
On the merits of the various questions at
issue in the Ecclesiastical Court we have no
opinion to express, but if practices are to be
defended, it is better that those who under.
take to shield them, should do so uncom
promisingly, and on intelligible grounds.
bovirever, there is a party in the Church of
England, who take Their stand upon " in
cense as a disinfectant," we strongly recom
mend. them to ,get, in a supply of Messrs.
Ritniners vapioriaers , fOrthwith. Let them
be sure the ." Censer "' by. any, .other name,
wound smell ngt Only ai 8 :7*;, but good
dear. Sweeter, to a large , section of their oppo
nents itomakiwk.
.".•.3 ' , . -
: ' - `-' '-.• . t 1 ..1... . ...! ,
ANRODO'DifI-OF .3313..... WAYLAND.
Frimithe lAf6 puidi'sh4iiiSheldil n'iina'al
e' Dr . ••• • ~i
"r-, stdim.au once imild'ibit'ile oftener
an oven was- hVaied;the,_eitaOi. it_Was
heat it. . to
readily, and I tbi', 3 " - '' a ' Wr 7 b m it clr o e f
I used` to tuA tti't 1,"
nipre.l wrote , l ef . r4V9jiTePtfUallY, the
, • Ps i as p • in..'the,h
speakingevery lailianciel f t.lEi n a ir d i , ,r i. .51, - b ' `be first . entered
Oe'hAilii.l3 .mina does nail' I. fi'49°Be that
in advancing lire lil''DPsvAlcierilYt9l,9dsn° much,
tt
t ot h i i i n ti gti e „ B 7 l,4 in b ei i.. e power toito li ''ol , - t . - -
et ; . „,.. - c - e a t n gh n ii-, j e ig :
could jhao`q,p,cliliill)set.t9r,„stt?l,,,ttin:;teriao at thirty;
at the f - " R"' ' 'llB ,we'll
g e n ill ;t 's le Pr iti e a a
:0:
e,
y o .o r il ni n e g r ,in ag an a, :
a a : l3 l6:, b ;,,e y iirk,bi '‘ er
pi.,:, pstarcit_
ii easier ec hu
r a c u b d ,
tion in Ihelatter. ' 'irenke' I
the oftener ai n :ni
the better be Will
, `'rliveitohon, Si?,nclade that
, p prepon.
. t c o a , mth „ . 1. 8 ( e. , :0, e P. ' ' asi'°rt and i'X'ankly said
. . 69 . 40.,,bi it 16 , yo ur R.rexte r Vitg. I have
him, , on t...lcoovii' h ew ; i f ; ,,i.
not4Ot:Or9'.,iteirlii_ ,T.-- ...., out .1 am
4...‘.. 4 -.- .fil ~- = deep, bit . 1.....d0n'h understand
16 , ana- 1 ,do ti4t, feel. ed' ' ',3 u.
waylan<i saia fo ti m '' . ci ` e " ,i,,•''''' it ; " Mr.
•. w :>ll. ~. 4_ .).-ri 'r ‘A oratr • ur ,
Y,r.iftve done ricr c- .• I; other,
- . i. v 4 . 1 4- ,ssk,,oung to me;
have l ie,ted. a ClViq i iail 'parl: I-. Sou
is my, duty, 6'pi.e.,..et, th ,e,.. feel that it
inedioine, and -bdt an. >Q.
, I studied
said, r ie.' ' e n, , 9 1 111 7 agtiect - but God
, - : me. 1,, am ii i . , ; ~...,..... ;
the ' gospel' , I ,-i- arhe 7 t ;Yu n ..ILD:4 B t preach
seemed to call me here. ''-figrt9:4,lh4dause God
~ a =do not blame
3 ; ° .. 11 : - / 4 ' ). (l n ° t Llkk. in k - . iT.Y:.:II:e aching, or for
r)O.T , being edified "b :
I" Shah - riotl'he ,off - ttded; - Goo io2fliear
yourself 14,94 i t?lessed
O where' You find - b
BuldiviP, or .ImOther Sharp., 'Dr.'
and the diss b at e i n ti c t i a, err . t b ii ro f tb 4"' l wtre lt i e n P t a e s a t :s r .
g°°ieuerl!e` By, this iimg ti r
,the both
The Tit t ter
edifying preacher he
ban-ever heard, il° 63ient'and moat °and 36- WaYlaud
r
In time the, pastor learned r :that one of
the minority, an honetit and worthy trades
rnan, was ertitiarra"sed• hi:business. lie
c,, -- alled co d Spil t ,irn . open ed Lis
heart
,and, bufpess, " I could
gr'nn if, if , N4retp4ki -i i?r what, I owe Mr.
John B. Jones:::,(4,oyealthy merchant, after
wards of t'he,fir_m.of,rones, Ldwe,:un d Ball).
at..9?ce,calletlto,see Mr. Jones,
and aeked h;in tpaeuonu,Kidate the person
1 4 n 01,110iiRn with w m.pre time, Mr. Jones
Zea c daY rOIIA let • hiin have all the
time - he wished, - and - to sell him more goods
if he desired.
,„ Ile. ,was saved from failure
I by. this - ,tintiVilite'qtiflitiOt - 1,“ and became a
prosperoui*, htid,', / ben ent eVOI man of busi
nest , TV ,
. -
''Dr. ,Vith:ylandlris .ibigfed that ,Mr Wins
sextob,'dnee"safeto-hitn with con
siderable concern, " I saw that yesterday.
i / naattending2-4: , fietierif,- -- yne.--wore while
stoekings:-I*-otit b..
d 6it,t) remark, and
b . , t• ftfibeedini rig:" Mr. War
t larnd - thanked:hith',-eibterely, and carefully
hhededhis sageestqlon:, ) Thisliticident inns
trites hise - r - eadillsii-tcy._rehelve:ad vice from
whatever quiaerl f liirkrilitit,rtihterl greatly
te r - bikido4n.tneditittiotiliifer 'prin'niples and
general •inwn, - JyffltiTprictical -matters he
courted advice. One btlitrViends has said,
"I was always afraid .te ',advise him, for he
was disposedltil . give nierenwelght to my ad
vice thla,n I; thought. itwah entithzid- to."
Mc. was always : '. cry - f,b 1 14 icikgre inter
change' O thought and feeling, „Dr: Stow
-
`"'lle - once called rtow± appiiihntly for
no otherptrrpose AKIO* ." - iihtenbe the ques
tion, When is.l* thing.;pitkvedr do not
remember_ the antirAvief 4. - gavel - -but it differed
from his ; - Which: he gjAve:in form,t and then
illustrated in , Vll , Aol4Bn*ay4:: - AA thing is
proved, voliert it-muisilbe: so, or-son - ke law of
nature iseiiolated:re'
'We have beard` IlYi. - "VaYTand mention
that h n'once - callednino'n / Mother, who had
been bereavedliYAlii i dehtb•Vf her daugh
ter. The, a tedi in'other poured out her
heart, and told - him' the child liad lain
in lien"Eo`som; ad:never - Teenabsent from
her for a day, Inid4eleii thi-irkinspring and
motive of her life, and how utter now WitS
her lOng after this con
versation, the pastor had occasion, in preach
ing,: to allude 'o" ; ll,—rnother's leve, and used
as nearly" as niissible - the very language of
tliirbereMtrtireittgr — Tlie people in amaze
ment, heartL, ' deepest emotions
delineated' Salia4lVlnrOy of 'Ahem, expres sed
their wonder that a man so young could
know 'so mut of human- nature.
He preached about 1825 a sermon upon
inteinptirinte, exhibiting not alone the ruin
ens e.tieets- of indulgence in the vice, but
the sinfulness of doin g aught that would
Pro Mote it , „',. a
ht'dity, a member of
his church called nixpEi hitn and said, "
hwie been'bris'itte of selling liquor at
my store. But if what you said yesterday
is trase:lt't!Nrttiik, 'foal dtiglif to abandon
it, howeyer ninth the - step' may reduce my
Profits .:`se aocerdingii , xenounced all con
nection with 'the traftlr 's
" I remember caSeklof - edtfying roiigious
conversation. , Witki,%4Deilbsita o f m y church
over go e