frri,ginat Cn.nuntuticattaits.
CROSSES.
I once possessed a beautiful photographic copy
of Palmer's celebrated marble, "Faith at the
Cross." These copies have been multiplied, till
they are seen in almost any house you may enter,
the country over. The usual effect of such mul
tiplication follows—people cease to care for it.
"That is so comttron," a friend said, "I wonder
you like to have it." But my particular copy
seemed to me different from all others. I had
studied over and over, in long hours of weariness
and pain, every line in it. I had come to love
it like a friend. I learned to talk with the sweet,
upturned face, and knew by heart all the story it
had to tell. The very light and shade in the
picture, were suggestive to me, for close around
the cross it was thick darkness, but beyond and
above, it was light. Light, too, in the upward
looking eyes, that held somewhat such an expres-
sion as the divine eyes might have held, when
the sad lips said, "Not my will but Thine." All
the lessons that came to me, impressed by fre-
quent repetition, from that simple picture, it
would be impossible to tell. Suffice it to say, that
more than any other visible or symbolic agency
for good, apart from the sanctuary and the Bible,
it helped to keep Christ in my heart and
thoughts.
While this photograph hung in my room, I
once received a visit from an inquisitive acquain
tance, who amused herself by walking about, and
closely inspecting everything within the four walls.
Suddenly in a quick rasping tone, she exclaimed,
"You have a cross here, I see." "Oh yes," I
said, as if that were nothing remarkable, adding
inwardly, "more than one." 1 anticipated an at
tack, and immediately stood on the defensive, but
after apparently weighing the subject carefully in
her mind, she remarked patronizingly, and with
great deliberation, "Well, I don't know as I ob
ject, though some people do." "I don't know
why you should," I answered ; "I believe it is
the symbol of our faith." "Yes, but some people
think it is Romish, you know." "Romish!" I
said; "did Christ die then for. Rome only ? Was
it Romish for Paul to say he gloried in the cross?
Of course, he meant the doctrine: of the cross, but
do you suppose he would have been horrified at
seeing the symbol of the doctrine?"
The truth is, there is a great deal of nonsense
afloat in the Protestant Church, about crosses. I
cannot understand why the Romanists and Epis
copalians should be allowed to monopolize for their
churches, the peculiar sign of our faith. I do
not see why it should not be on every Christian
church. And yet, I have been told that when,
at the suggestion of Henry Ward Beecher, a
cross was placed upon a Congregational church
in a town in Western New York, they could get
no congregation I
But, perhaps you say, "It is dangerous in ten
dency. It looks Rome-ward. It is the germ of
image-worship. Romish idolatry has come of it,
since the days of the early church." Well,
doubtless the world moves in a circle, in more
senses than the literal one, swinging from one ex
treme to another, and back again. There is no
thing new under the sun, and the thing that bath
been, it is that which shall be. But are the early
Christians .to blame, because later generations
corrupted the pure faith, and came to look upon
the symbol as the substance? Because the Co
rinthian church turned the Lord's Supper into a
riotous feast, shall we, therefore, not celebrate
the Lord's Supper ?
"But," you say, "It is dangerous playing with
edged tools." I grant you—but because one
playiv with them, inflicts severe wounds, shall
therefore, the master-workman not use them, for
skilful and beautiful work ? If the symbol of
our faith helps to keep our faith in mind, why
should we not avail ourselves of that help? It
is true, the faith is not worth much, if it be de
pendent on these things, but why are they not
legitimate means to a higher end, as much as the
lilies of the field, or any other suggestive thing,
that gives us nobler, higher thoughts, and heav
enly aspiratiOns ? In short, we Protestants have
ever before us the command, "Thou shalt not
bow down to theta nor serve them," and if any
one find himsel‘caring for the cross itself rather
than for what it suggests, it is the fault, not of
the cross, but of his own heart. Some people
may be strong enough, and spiritual enough, to
need no outward helps, but the most of us ark
weak at the best, and should catch at everything
'that can help us God-ward, in however small de
gree. Those who have never specially noticed it,
!have very little idea of the power upon our minds
‘of the things that constantly surround us. They
sure ,centairdy moulding elements in our life, to a
fraueh greater ,extent than we imagine. •
/ have two ,crosses in my bright, sunny room,
one of whieh helped me to bear a real cross the
other day. The other one was given me by a
dear Me' rid may up on the shores of Lake Supe
rior. It ibiteputte *bite cross under a glass shade
with a single ivhiterose and its spray of leaves
and buds, twined about it. It seems to me that
~P arity" is written all over it, and I never look
at it, without some sweet thought of Heaven, or
of Him who is the only Pure.
The 1,4 the 6 otilleti one lielped me was this. it
is All ilhturinateit cress, simple.frame, wish' a
vine of ivpleaves growingover it.
,These leaves,
the emblem of strength, always remind me of
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1868.
the strong, close clinging to Jesus, of one who
feels Christ to be his only hope. But this cross
has upon it an inscription, that struck me a little
strangely at first—" Glory to God." It 'reminded
me of John's expression, "the kingdom and pa
tience of Jesus Christ." Glory and shame !
Power and weakness ! A shout of triumph and
a cry of agony I How can these things go to
gether? But they did, and do still, and there
fore, instead of "Thy will be done," which we
should more naturally associate with a cross, is
this motto, "Glory to God !"
So, bearing a little cross, impatiently, the other
day, my eye fell upon the words over the painted
cross, and I said to myself, "Glory to God, that
is what came of the cross, Christ's cross, and that
is what must come of all others, I suppose, little
crosses as well as great." A new light dawned
upon me—a sweeter way than ever, to bear eras
see. Not simply because it is God's will, and we
should be lovingly submissive, not simply be
cause only through suffering we shall reign, and
only through discipline grow pure, but be
cause, through every cross, and out of every trial
comes glory to our dear Lord. I cannot tell
you, just how sweet it seemed to me then, to be
able to bring glory to Him Trom'a cross, even as
He brought gloty to the Father from His cross.
And this, then, is what all our crosses shall end
in, glory to God. It seemed sweeter Wand more
beautiful to me than any self-purification, or any
self-gain, to•be able to crown our Lord with glory,
—out of the fragrant blossoms of our own humilia
tion, to weave for Rim the wreath of a Victor.
So it is, that even symbols have their precious
uses, and my pictured crosses help me to bear
my real ones. K. H. J.
REV. A. M. 'STEWART'S LETTERS.-XXVI.
SILVER MINING
"Surely, says Job, there is a vein for the silver."
The history and growth of art and scieuce in the
search after and acquisition of this coveted metal
have neither improved upon the theory, nor put
to naught the mining knowledge of that man so
famous for patience in the land of Uz. There is
still a vein for the silver; that
. is, seams of, ore
rock from one to twenty feet thick, like the bi
tuminous coal strata in the Pittsburgh region.
Not usually, however, like them, running hori
zontally through the mountains, but dipping
sometimes almost to the perpendicular.
How and when the silver was condensed into
these rock seams, geologists fail satisfactorily to
inform us. This vast treasure region affords to
the observant eye unmistakable evidence that it
was long the bed of some salt sea or ocean. The
alembic of the mighty waters has left in these
numerous strata vast mineral treasures besides
silver, for the development and use of coming
generations. Some mighty convulsion, perhaps
the flood, changed the lowest depths of this once
ocean, into the highest mountain ranges. Nor do
such shakings up and changes of sea depths and
earth's surface seem as yet to be all past.
MINING '.A SCIENCE
Owing to its general vein deposit, silver mining
has become more'of a science in Nevada than'was
gold hunting in California. There, each indi•
vidual could dig, shovel and wash gold from the
sand and debris for himself. Here, successful
silver-mining requires large capital. Hence, so
many Eastern Companies have adventured on the
business in this far off' region; though from per
fectly legitimate causes, have nearly all proved
failures. A mine or two in Nevada have already
been sunk to the depth of twelve hundred feet.
One of these is becoming so warm at the bottom
as to be very oppressive on the miners.
Here, however, in White Pine District former
theories, practices, laws and results of silver min
ing are found to be at fault. Job's vein for the
silver seems not to hold good in thil Treasure
Mountain. On its summit and far down its sides,
this portion of the• mountain is covered with
thick strata of limestone rock. For two and a
half miles, in and adjacent to TreasurO City, at
almost every place where these strata have been
pierced, silver ore has been found in greater or
less quantities and more or less rich in quality;
and this not in veins or seams, but in bunches,
in hoppers and irregular masses. Some of these
deposits are declared by scientific miners to be
the richest ever yet discovered in the history of
mining; being almost pure silver—Horned Silver,
as the miners term it; or Chloride ore—salt and
silver combined. The ore from Vile great Coth-
Btock lode in Virginia City, Nevada, is considered
rich when yielding one hundred dollars to every
ton of ore crushed. Some of the ore from this
Treasure Mountain has yielded from five to twenty
thousand dollars per ton. No marvel, therefore,
if the mining interests of Nevada have gone crazy
about White Pine, and the mania be spreading
into California and even as far as• our Eastern
Cities; and thousands, are rushing, and others will
eagerly rush here—individually and in companies.
The very large majority, no doubt, as in all other
miningmanias, will become poorer than when they
came, and leave, if able to get away, penniless
CHLORIDE FLAT
On one of those inexpressibly beautiful Nov
ember days, it is a most interesting, enlivening,
even exciting scene to visit a place at the south
end of Treasure City, called, "Chinride Fiat," a
sloping parcel of the mountain side of perhaps
Sixty acres; with a surface bf bare limestone rock.
The nature of the deposits in this mountain
seems to have set at defiance all the old laws
about claims and mining interests. Each man,
Alto finds here a space large enough and unoccu
pied, in which to sink a shaft, feels that he has
a title, through Uncle Sam and by virtue of
squatter sovereignty, so to do. Here on this
broad limestone surface of Chloride Flat, on every
square surface of twenty feet, in many places
much less, are two or three men eagerly and la
boriously toiling in order to get a hole through
the limestone, usually about the dimensions of an
ordinary well sunk for water. Each man looking
and no doubt expecting; yea, believing, that the
centre of earth's treasures lies directly below his
excavation. Every few minutes you hear the
boom of the blasting powder like the report of a
small cannon. Should you venture across. the
Flat, the admonition will very likely be several
times tendered; "Look out"—and you had need to.
Men are seen moving away from one and another
excavation near by you; when presently the earth
trembles, the sound like a cannon salutes the ear,
and up the shaft comes a dense volume of powder,
smoke, spars, and often quite large pieces of rock
thrown high in air, and to fall wherever the pro-
jection and gravitation• may tend.
How persuade such a company and so engaged,
that beneath these rocks lie not the true riches?
How effectually preach the Gospel of the kingdom
to men whose entire being are absorbed after un
derground treasures? The prophet is not alone
in his complaint; "Who bath believed our report?"
A. M. -STEWART.
A COMPLAISANT PULPIT,
By REV. E. H. GILLETT, 73. D
The half-way covenant dispensation (if we
may so phrase it) of New England Church his
tory was a most disastrous one. The mention of
it, 'to those acquainted with its main features, sug,-
gests at once the shameful treatment which its
opponents sometimes received. Edwards, in ex
ile from a people that had once almost adored
him, and toiling as a missionary among the
Stockbridge Indians, was perhaps the most dis_
tinguished suffererer by the prejudice that re
sented the imposition of Scriptural terms %of
communion at the Lord's table. But he did not
suffer alone, others were separated from, their
flocks, or sorely disturbed in their labors, for
sharing and advocating his views.
'But the cause of Christ suffered most sorely.
Many pastors were constrained to practice what
they confessed that they did not approve. Their
sermons bear the traces of the bondage in which
their convictions were held. They did not ven
ture-to speak all that they believed, or to utter
what they felt lot a fettered utterance is pow
erless, and a pulpit in bondage to the pews is
little better than no pulpit" at all.
To many, it must. have given occasion for sad
t
reflection, when they saw parents who had been
been themselves 'baptized, contented with the
privilege of offering their children in baptism,
and quieting their, consciences with the thought
that thus they had discharged their duty to their
own household, and at the same time retained a
half-way connection with the Church. HoW
could such persons be dealt' with? How could
they be convinced of their error, and be brought
to Confess their Mistake ? Arguments like those
of Bellamy and Edwards, might indeed do it,
but how many could be found to speak out with
the boldness and force of those great men ?
Perhaps no printed discourse of the time bet
ter illustrates the embarrassment which some
men must have felt, as well as the tameness of pulpit
utterance which was thus occasioned, than ,one
preached in 1769 by John Tucker of Newbury,
on the Gospel condition of salvation. We might
suppose that from such ktext as, " He that be
lieveth and is baptized, shall be saved, but he that
believeth not shall be damned," some very plain,
searching and startling truths might have been
deduced and applied. But as we turn over the
pages of Mr. Tucker's sermon, we meet with
passages which would be more appropriate to that
class of preachers who. would not venture to
name the word" hell" to " ears polite." After
having presented the doctrinal positions of his
discourse, he proceeds to its improvement. Here
he deals with his half-way covenant hearers in a
very genteel and respectful• mariner/ Hel speaks
of them as not denying or renouncing their bap
tism. " Bat this," he adds, ".seems far from
being sufficient to their sustaining the proper
and complete character of Christians." Neg
lecting to " personally and publicly recognize and
own their baptism," and in consequence thereof,
neglecting " another special and express ordi
nance of the Gospel, viz, that of the Lord's
Supper, how do they appear as Christ's disciples?
And if they do net so much as. aim at this ;--if
they knowingly neglect what; the Gospel plainly
requires of them, how can they satisfy them
selves, that they comply with the condition of
salvation ?"
A modern critic would-suppose - that this lan
gunge was moderate and tame enough for the
most complaisant pulpit, but as if he had been
too pungent, Mr. Tucker immediately adds in an
apologetic tone—"lwouldrecommend these things
to the serious consideration of all such as they
,
more especially 4ticern; I mcan to sucla'as neg
lect public profession of religion and coming to
the. Lotd's!Table.' am far fromm disposition
to •upbraid any fot their faults; •but you will
suffer` see say, in a spirit "of Idire, that is
verily a fault, and a defect in your Christian
character much to be lamented. Let me beseech
yon to think seriously of these things; to con
sider and realize what the Gospel requires of
you; what is your duty, and what is your inter
est."
We doubt, whether the " Old Side," arraigned
by Blair and Tennent more than a century ago
for their lack of pungency, or the moderates of
the Church of Scotland in the day when Row
land Hill and missionary societies were an abom
ination, ever went beyond Mr. Tucker of New
bury. This man, who out of the pulpit, or by
controversial sermons in it, could manifest a vigor
of thought and command a raciness of expres
sion which savor of Robert South, was so gentle
in dealing with the consciences of his hearers,
as to seem to beg their peimission to present to
them, maimed or toned down to their capacity to
receive them, the invariable terms of Christ's
salvation.
We might well be content with some afflictive
visitation, or almost with the ultra peculiarities
of Hopkinsian doctrine, if only thereby such
lukewarmness might be put away. , When the
preacher has to ask permilsion to expreas the
sacred message, and even then in the most
guarded way, the pulpit has well nigh touched
the depth of degradation. It is shorn of its
power and challenges popular contempt. John
Tucker of Newbury was not a weak man intel
lectually. He was a robust and vigorous contro
versialist, not lacking in wit, or the power of
keen retort, and yet it is impossible to read such
passages in his sermons as those quoted above,
arid not feel that his somewhat reluctant acqui
escence in the popular doctrinal fallacy of the
day, had robbed him of his power, and left him
an object, as a preacher, almost of contempt.
So will it be when a mutilated Gospel only is
accepted or acceptable. And the result will be
what it was a century ago in New England.
John Tucker was really, if not doctrinally, one
of the Unitarian Fathers. The pulpits around
Boston, filled with men somewhat of his stamp,
favored the introduction of errors which the New
England fathers would have' regarded with ab
horrence. It is from the example of Him that
spake with authority, that his disciples are to
learn the lesson of their own utterance, as they
deal with sins and sinners.
OUR NEW MISSIONARIES AMONG THE
FREEDMEN.
LETTER FROM • A MISSIONARY OF THE 0. S
IVIESSRS. EDITORS : Two of, your missionaries
to the freedmen of South Carolina, called on
us as they passed down, and suffered themselves
to be persdaded to tarry for a lew days. Their
visit was gratifying on many accounts.' Among
other reasons, we were curious to find out the
difference between the Old and New School min
istry. These brethren were the first we, had
ever met under circumstances Where we felt free to
examine closely into the distinguishing. charm,-
teristies;: ands is they were, about to I locate at
pointA riot very distant, we felt in duty: bound to
see if they could pronounce our " shibboleth,"
for if they were heretical, of course :we would
hive to sound the warning; lest they, tinder -the
name of Presbyterian, should deceive our ebl
ore.d. Presbyterians.
Now, Messrs. Editors,. if these excellent breth
ren are , fai r r specimens of the NeW School Pres
byterian Church; I hope you will send many'
more to gather the freedmen into Presbyterian
churches. .The' four brethren present represen
ted the two branches, two belonging to each. ,
After many inquiries on both sides, we unani
mously concluded that there existed no , just rea
son why the union should , not be 'consummated.
These brethren, Messrs. McKinney and Loo
mis, go to a most important field, a region Where
there are many freedmen who once 'belonged to'
the Presbyterian church. At' the call of the
Church for laborers for this specific work, they
have entered the field. Upon their success much
depends. May we not ask that all interested in
the' work pray for them?' •
Should they succeed ; additional laborers' and
means to support them will ,be required. Will
these be forthcoming? I cannot see how
Church which boasts that it has ever been dis
tinctively anti-slavery, and pre-eminently loyal
among American Churches can hesitate; nor do I
believe it will falter.. I wish, however, to warn
all who have urged the Church to engage de
nominationally in.the work, that •heavy outlays
will be necessary.!: The free'dmeware poorer now
than at the cloie of the' war. Bad crops and
low wages have brought this about. It 'is not
their fault. Ministers and teachers are to be'
supported, churches are , 'to- be erected, and a
native ministry raised up. For two years the
people can do' but little. The burden then must.
be borne by' 'northern Presbyterians. Is it not
necessary then' for these to realize' that liberal
donations will be required; and that all-coniribil-'
Vass through the regular dhurclreh'ari
nels atid•be applied to the work the Chtir'clr has
undertaken? • , :
Much money hia been wasted among the freed=
men, and 'a still larger sum has been• given- to
plant; Methodist and Baptist churches 'oftentimes
among Presbyterian freedmen:
, „
The experience of 'a life=time ' athong the col
ote'd peoplii - cf`thi l Sonth;•andkti4nSiV e
tienjsinbe the vit . .' #hilit:Aabo4ni among' them;'
satisfies I:rte.Wet ihi . .Pieehyterian'dhireh is the
church that can contribute most to the rapid and
BOARD
thorough evangelization of the freedmen. They
must have an influential church among them
Presbyterian in government, Calvinistic in doc
trine, and insisting on a learned ministry.
W. L. M.
COMPLETE SUCCESS OP A SABBATH
KEEPING CHEESE FACTORY.
Twinsburgh, 0., Dec. 22d, 1868.
Rev. Dr. Mears, editor of the American Pres
byterian.—Dear Sir.—You will ful.d enclosed
the report of a committee of which I was chair
man, in favor of refraining from making cheese
on the Sabbath. The evil is a great one in our
country, and entirely needless. Nearly every
factory in the land disregards the Sabbath, and
exerts directly and indirectly a sad influence for
evil, and what is the worst of it, many professed
Christians are engaged in it. The experiment
on which this report is based, is perfectly trium
phant in this community.
There is no factory in this place, or in the sur
rounding places, which has been able to compete
with Dea. Wilcox's ia point of excellence or
profit. I trust you will open the columns of your
excellent - paper to publish 'it, as speedily 'as possi
ble. The patrons. have directed me to make this
request. Very respectfully yours.
- " SiiirtrkElß - iisrmr..
A Report by the Patrons of a Sabbath-Reeping
Cheese Pnelori. v
.=A Committee appointed'sometime' since bythe
patrons of a Sabbath keeping cheese - faeiory,
Wilcox,reated, owned and managed by Dea.W - m.i
in the township of Twinsbiirh, Siinitiiit Co.
• .
Ohio, at-the close of the second year of its opera
tions, take the liberty to report the follositino ,
feels.
In autumn of .1866 Dea. Wilcox, with some
others, having painfully witnessed for many years
the evils of making cheese on the Sabbath, felt
that there was no need of doing it, and that
probably there would be very little or no loss in
refraining from such Sabbath desecration. That
a• fair experiment might be made, Dea. Wilcox,
who , owneci a favorable site, concluded to erect a
factory and man it. The work was begun and on
the 9th of May, 1867, the factory was put in
operation. The object was looked upon by many
as chimerical, and was subjeeted to ridicule. It
was supposed, even by many professed Christians,
that omitting to manufacture milk into cheese
on the Sabbath Must be attended with considera
able loss; as, during many Sabbaths, the heat would
be such that milk would sour. Such were the
views entertained• on the subject that for a length
of time bat few ventured to try the experiment.
These soon found that milk could be kept with
out:injury from. Sunday morning to Monday
morning by putting it in• pans on the' cellarbot
tom, or in other favorable situations. The milk
of Sunday morning was taken early Monday
morning' to the factory and made into cheese and
kept.by itself. The past two years have been
uncommonly dry and warm, and yet' id •no in
stance have, the patrons lost any milk i when put
on the. cellar bottom in clean receptacles. So
pleased were the first patrons, and so, satiSfactory
their first experiments, that requests were made
from others ,to . bring their'milk, till the supply
was beytind,the capacity, of 'the factory.' No la
bor has been done in the factxiry or eheese-house
on the Sabbath, and noicheese has been lost; and
so well -has, it 'been made ; and so good .the quality,
that no difficulty has arisen in the sale 'of it, and
that too at the highest prices in market.. The
'CoMmittee, for the gratification: of many; would
state the: general •method - of operation, and the
amount of milk requisite in 3ifferent parts of the
season to make a pound of cured chesse. The
milk is all delivered by the patrons and weighed,
so that each knows, if huchooses'to know, .the
amount of milk he bring's; aod receives after
the sale of the cheese, the proportion of the price
for which it Wasisold.
During April and to the 3rd of May of the
last season the milk was skimmed and brought
to the factory three times a week. Tor that'
period it took Hillis of milk to makei one .of
cheese. From May 4th to the. first - of June
1011bs. From June Ist to July 2d,-9191b5, and
from July 2d to October 'lst 9 831bs, and from
that to the end of the season nibs. - The average
fir the season about 9.921b5. From May 4th to
June Ist milk was !brought in each. daY, and from
June Ist to August 12th tUrice- each day, and
from Angust 12th to the end of the Beaton, which
closed Dec. Btli, milk was brOught to ,suit circnm
stances: Louring the 'simmer the cream has
been taken frornl milk -iii4lre r vats which stood
over night, and made rinto butter, at a rate of
11bfor every 2001b8 of milk;-the 'avails of which,
together with.that of the eheeSe, Were divided ac
cording to the amount of milk'brought by each.
Dm Wilcox furnishes everything but rennets,
and , receives'one dollar and seventy-five cents per
hundted -frit futikingianoltitkitg eareiof the cheese,
and. one-tenth of the avails' of bb itter. made.
The milk brought Saturday night is made into
cheek before 12' Moak the same evening, which,
contrary to the upirdon of some, makes as much
cheese for , theviaritity Of not more and
better ihan , that of other . milk. 'The milk of
SktiAris brenght Very. earlOslcuiday morning,
aiul! hi Worked- up by- - itself haw been already
131hted. Bnyera are fulliiutormed'of the circum
stancee, and, left atithidix .opti on t o take or not.
It has never been ; 0914,,f0r, less: than the other, a nd
in one instance for more thaii the other made at.
the eathe - tiine'.`" `-` '
[Continued on Page 419.]