ygyma of PubllCAllon* -PIIE TIOGA COUNTY AGITATOR is pub 1 Thursday Morning, and mailed to sub- IVe ° f 9«* r !n ™ 3 „nutn, i rmpafy. utpitoance. 'lt is intend notify every subscribar when the tern) for e i'°i,L has paid shall bare expired, by the stamp * uTims Oat,” an the. margin of the last, paper, m apct will tiien be slopped until a further ,rp_. ■ ! 11l be received. By this arrangement no man uiittanc . £ . n deljt t 0 tlje p r - lnler . ”;° iTO a is the Official Paper of the Conn .1, > litre snd steadily increasing circulation ty ' v7/inlo seaUy every neighborhood in ttui reacaiDg ;j sent / ree of pottage toany Post-office wanly limits, and to those livingwithin wll " n ;,- hat whose most convenpenlposloffice may lf,e >«adjoiningCoa n ty. ' 3 Mina* Cards, not exceeding S lines, paper In doM # P" 3 ™: the BOY PATRIOTi B y GEORGE A. TOWNSEND, History is filled with tbo-deeds 0 f j{ EN 0 f the Revolution ; nor are the patriot women" forooiten in the "burning words” of Ihe annalists of 76—but where is the historian who (ells of the patriotism of Ihe Boys of (hat gloomy period 1 Who writes their hi. ographies ? There were boys id the Revolution—boys 0 f noble patriotism and dauntless spirit— boys who would not become traitort, though ihe tack and gibbet confronted them ; -hoys who toiled With an endurance and boldness unequaled in the annals of a nation, for the independence of Ihe “Old Thirteen, ’’ and hid they now their just desert, the brightest stir in America’s constellation, and the widest stripe in her broad canvass, would be dedi. dedicated to the boys of 76. Let us relate an instance : It was in the year 1777. Philadelphia was In the hands of Howe and his inhuman soldiery, while the field of Brandywine gave the American people an evidence of British humanity. The inhabitants of Pennsylvania and Delaware were at the mercy of their foes. Bands of Hessian dragoons scoured the vicinity of Philadelphia for miles around,and committed set* which would disgrace a Vandal. On the evening of a delightful autumn diy, a group of boys, ranging from twelve HKVtnteea years of age, were gathered to gather on the steps of a tenantless storehouse in the little village of Newark, Delware. The town seemed lonely, and, with the ex option of the youthful band already re farted to, not a human being met the eye. Ail the men capable of bearing arms had left their homes to join the array of Washington on the banks of the Schulkill. A youth of sheen years mounted on a barrel, was giv ing an account of the disastrous battle of Brandywine. James Wilson, the narrator, was a bold boy, enthusiastic in his love for tit American cause, and possessed of no We intelligence. His bright eye and flaxen hair, gave him an effeminate appearance, tat beneath that plain homespun jacket throbbed a heart that never quailed in dan- gtr, nor shrunk before an obstacle. His father was a commander of the Delaware tegular troops, and his mother was dead. The boy had just concluded his narration, and was deeply lamenting that he could not join the army “I am not old enough,” said he, “but bad 1 a musket, I would not stand idle here, with ray hands useless ny my side.” “Are there no guns of any description in the village V’ ashed a listening youth. “None. I have spent nearly, a week try ing to find one, but my efforts have been of no avail. I strongly suspect that the old Tory Livingston, has several in his house, but, as he permits no one to trespass on his land, 1 am unable lo say positively.” “Why not take a party and search his dwelling!” asked Frank Howard,”'“he has no one there to assist him, except his cow. aidly son George, and I can thrash him as easy as lha!,” and ibe boy snapped his fin gers to imply ihe readiness with which he could whip old Livingsioh’s son. James .Wilson’s eyes sparkled with joy. 'lf any three boys in the company will help me, I will search old Livingston’s house this night. All who are willing will just step forward three paces Every boy in that little crowd, without a moment's hesitation, stepped forward. The boy’s eyes flashed like stars. “Now, by the dead of Bunker Hill, I will search old Livingston’s residence, though death stands m my path.” With a firm tread and in the utmost si lence, the young heroes look up their march lot old 'Squire Livingston’s. Livingston had long been suspected of harboring British spies, and some of his former laborers had reported that he kept up a regular correspondence with the British commander. At all events, he was gen erally regarded by the genuine Whigs ns a dangerous man, and therefore avoided. His house was situated a short distance from "bite Clay Creek, on the side of a steep "ill, surrounded on all sides by tall Irees. L was just such a place as one might suppose tollable for the plotting of treason. At the time James Wilson and his little ™ad had left the deserted storehouse in the Milage of Newark, dusk had given place to darker shades of night—still it was not . The new moon was shining brightly ■a'hs clouds, and every object was perfectly distinguished. The boys walked solemnly orward, maintaining a solemn silence. At la gih they gained the bank of the creek, slowly following the winding path, soon sight of the object of their deslina ll*‘ As they came to a little log bridge crossed a shallow rivulet leading into , ,F biis Clay, James Wilson ordered them to hah. I'k' Frank Howard and myself recon jolltßlhe premises first, to see wheiher any 10 SBr may, fie apprehended. All ihe rest ! *?d here until we return. Make no noise ' ,Dli «ep a co Ds t ao t watch.” James and Frank-silently departed and soon losl 10 >be eye in the thick woods wough which the path ran. Scarcely had S' gone from the view of their companions, quick ear of Wilson detected a noise. iT?]" Bai< J ha to Frank, as he pulled him * gigantic beach tree. The noise i n j D . reso * ve d itself into a human footfall, the T an , ol * 18r moment George Livingston, j lQ :?;, s *OO, stood opposite the tree.— . f. s w *lson darted from his covert, and oL J,,8 ri PPed the boy by the neck. The ( ard| y youih trembled like a reed, peak one word,’’ whispered his captor, Till: AGITATOR. * %SXtttlBlOV(, flf Of 3lift t|)fc Sjjrratf Of iiiffOVltT- -- BE A WRONG UNRIQHTED, AND UNTIL “MAN’S INHUMANITV TO MAN” SHALL CEASE, AGITATION MUST CONTINUE, VOL. V. “and I’ll toss you into the creek I” The lory’s son was struck dumb with tnght, and before he had recovered from bis stupor he found Tpmself in the midst of the whole group of boy-heroea with the vice-like gnp of Jaynes Wilson and Frank Howard on either arm. “Now, ’ said James, “answer me promptly and truly or I’ll make your position uncom fort able. Do you hear 1”. “Yea,” gasped the affrighted youth. “Who, are in your father’s house at this moment 1” , “} *—cannot tell,” stammered the half dead boy. . “You shall tell, or”— “Spate me, and I will djsclose every thing. When I left the house there was no one there but our own family and—Major Beards tone.” “Who is he?” asked James. “I don’t know—l don’t indeed !” “Tell!” threatened Frank. “He is a captain of the Yorkshire dra goons.” The eye of James glistened with joy, and he soon gained from the Tory’s son a revela tion which stamped his father as a traitor of the most appalling character. He discovered that old Livingston not only kept up a cor respondence with ihe British commander, but that he had so plotted in his traitorous designs that the little village of Newark was to be burned to ashes, and its women and children left eqposed to the mercy of their pitiless foes. The old Tory was to receive for his reward the land whereon the village stood, and an annual pension from the English government. But stranger than all, the plot was to be consummated on that very night, and the Tory’s son had been captured while he was going on an errand to a Tory neigh borhood, about two miles distant. The little band of heroes learned too that the British troops had secured their horses in Living ston’s stable, and intended to descend the creek in a large boat. There were twenty of them besides their captain. Major Beards tone, the leader of the band, was, in temper and heart, a thorough demon, and scrupled not his cruelty to destroy the slumbering in fant and the sickly wife. Not a few in~that youthful band of patriots trembled for the safely of a widowed mother or a defenceless sister. Some were for departing immedi ately, but James Wilson, still retaining his grasp on the Tory’s son, ordered all to he silent. The prisoner was lied hand and foot, a thick handkerchief bountj over his mouth ahif'a'sTo'ut 1 ' cTref" JSStAftiii'ia ,fw oveastr wound about a tree. All hope of escape for sook George Livingston. Wilson motioned his little band to follow him, and in a few minutes they stood on the summit of a high precipice which overhung White Clay Creek. “Now, boys,” said James Wilson, “the narrative we have just heard is true; and as we have no muskets or ammunition, we must make the best of the occasion. The British band will pass this spot in their boat, and as we have an hour to work let us busy ourselves in rolling some of those large rocks to the edge of (his precipice, and, when ihe red coats pass below, let us sink them to the bottom.” . Each boy set to work, and in an incredible short lime, nine huge rocks, each of half a ton in weight, were nicely balanced upon the precipice. The creek, at this point, was not more than twenty feel .wide, and was directly overhung by the rock on which our heroes stood. If the British'band descended the creek, they would pass this spot, and if they passed it, then death was their certain fate. In about an horn the quick ear of Wilson detected the measured beat of muffled oars. “They are coming,” he whispered, “let no one drop his rock until I give the word, then drop all at on'ce.” beautiful night to work a work of death, Thejieaveos were spangled with in numerable slarfti-and every object on which the moonbeams played, sparkled with a sil very radiance. ; Closer came the doomed Royalists, and the hearts of the boy patriots beat wildly in their bosoms. Peering cautiously over the cliff, James Wilson saw the Tory boat slowly but surely approaching. An officer stood in the bow,'guiding the oarsman by his orders, and ihe epaulets on his shoulders told that he was the identical fiend, Major Beardslone. “Don’t drop till I give the order,” again whispered Wilson. When the boat was about twelve feet from the rack, the boy leader fell securely behind his stone defence, and shouted “Who goes there ?’’ In a moment the oarsmen ceased rowing, and gazed with amazement above them. — The impetus which the boat had acquired, caused it to drift slowly beneath the rock,and just as it was fairly below, forth came the doomed words: “Cut loose in the name of Liberty 1” Each boy pushed his rock at the instant, and with one impulse, the gigantic stones fell. A loud shriek from the dark waters told how well the plan had succeeded, and when the exultant boys again looked over the rock, no thing was seen but a few pieces of floating wood. The boat had burst to pieces, and the occupants (bund a grave at the bottom of While Clay Creek. A cry of victory burst from the joyous lips j of the youthful patriots, and it was echoed along the creek in solemn grandeur. “Now for our prisoner!” cried Frank Howard, bounding ahead ; but what was the astonishment of the boys to find that in his efforts to free himself, George Livingston had been caught by that fatal cord and choked tp death! There was no lime for repining—the traitor and bis son had met their deserved WELLSBORO. TIOGA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY MORNING. NOVEMBER 25, 1858. doom, and there was no one to mourn their loss. “Such lie the end of America’s foes for ever 1” said James Wilson.' Old Livingston’s house was searched, and to the surprise of every one, nod only guns but three brass field pieces, several barrels of powder, and an abundance of balls, etc., were found concealed in the Tory’s cellar. — The military stores found here were given over to the American troops, and found a jovial welcome at their, headquarters. Had not the British parly been so signally defea led along the banks of White Clay, the town of Newark and the whole northern part of the Slate of Delaware, would have been run over by predatory parties of British soldiers. James Wilson and Frank Howard both joined the army of Green, and served with distinc tion in the Southern campaigns. Frank fell in the memorable battle of Eulaw Springs, bewailed by all who knew him. James Wil. son lost a leg at the siege of Yorktown and retired to his native village, but mortification ensued, and he expired with the ever to be remembered words on his lips : “Cut loose in the name of Liberty !’’ The village of Newark still stands, and has become a town of some celebrity. The scene of the defeat of the British by the band of boy patriots is still pointed out, and it is a sacred spot in the annals of Newark. Such reader, were (he ads of the boys of “’76,” and though they have no monumental pile to preserve their memories, they Jive in legends, song and verse, where they will ex isl when history has been swept into obscuri ty. Let our literary men redeem from dark ness the deeds of American youths, and whiJe they recount the noble achievements of our Revolutionary patriots, let them not- forget the boy heroes. Flatfooted Courtship. One long summer afternoon there came to Mr. Davidspn’s the most curious specimen of an old bachelor the world ever heard of. He was old, gray, wrinkled and odd. He hated women, especially old maids, and wasn’t afraid to say so. He and Aunt Patty had it hot and heavy, whenever chance threw them together; yet still he came, and it was no ticed that Aunt Patty took unusual pains with her dress whenever he was expected. One day the contest waged unusually strong, Aunt Patty left him in disgust, and went out into the garden. “The bear !” she muttered to herself, as she stooped to gather a blossom which attracted her attenlipn. gruff voice close to her side. “To gel rid of you.” "You didn’t do it, did you V “No ; you are worse than a burdock bur. “You won’t gel rid of me, neither.” “I won’t, eh V’ “Only in one way.” “And that?” “Marry me I” “What, us two fools gel married ? What will people say V “Thai’s nothing to us. Come, say yes or no : I’m in a hurry.” “Well, no, then.” “Very well, good-bye. I shan t come again. • lit ‘ Stop a bit—what a pucker to be in ! “Yes or no ?” “I must consult” — “All right; I thought you was of age. Good-bye.” “Jabez Andrews, don’t be a fool. Come back, come back, I say. Why, I believe the critter has taken me for earnest. Jabez Andrews, I’ll consider” — “I don’t want no considering. I’m gone. Becky Hastings is wailing for me. I thought I’d give you the first chance. All right. Good-bye.” “Jabez—Jabez I That stuck-up Becky Hastings shan’t have him if 1 die for it, Ja bez—Yes. Do you hear I —Y-e-s I” An Extra. Passenger. — An amusing scene took place on the steamer Baltimore, just as she was leaving for Cieaveland. A rough looking customer came aboard with a powerful looking bull dog at his heels. Walk ing directly into the office, the individual said to the clerk: “Stranger, I want to leave my dog in this here office, till the boat starts ; I am afraid some one will steal him.” “You can’t do it,” said the clerk, “take I him out.’’ “Well, stranger, that’s cruel ; but you are both disposilioned alike, and he’s kinder com pany for you.” “Take him out,” roared the clerk, “Well, stranger, I don’t think you’re honest and you want watching. Here, Bull, set down here and watch that fellow sharp, and the individual turned on his heel say ing—“put him out stranger, if he’s trouble some.” The dog lay there when the boat started, the clerk giving him the belter half of the office. A Queer Mistake. —An ignorant fellow, who was about to get married, resolved to make himself perfect in the responses of the marriage service; but, by mistake, he com mitted the office of baptism for those of riper years ; so, when the clergyman asked him, in the church, “Will thou have this woman to be thy wedded wifel” the bridegroom an swered, in a very solemn lone, “I renounce them all.” The astonished minister said, “1 think you are a fool 1” to which he Replied, -“All that I steadily believe.” The slightest sorrow for sin is sufficient if it produces amendment; the greatest is in' sufficient if it do not. eommumnmom For tho Agitator. Familiar Letters on Geology, Etc. NUMBER TWO. Msr Dear Marv : In examining the sub ject of the antiquity of the creation of man, I shall divide my evidence into three parts, or rather the evidence so divides itself. Ist. The evidence derived from the Bible. 2d. The evidence derived from Geology and Paleontology. 3d. The evidence derived from man him self, in his various races and physical confer mations. Ist. The evidence of the Bible.—The ad vocates of the doctrine that man was-created only four thousand and four years before Christ, or only about five thousand eight bun dred and sixty-two years ago, derive the whole proof of their theory from the Bible. Now if we can show that the scriptures fur nish no such proof, then they are placed on equal grounds with us, and in judging of the antiquity of the race must resort to our second and third sources of evidence. I trust I shall be able to show to your entire satisfaction, that the Bible not only does not afford evidence in support of Bishop Usher’s chronology, but that it teaches that man has existed on the earth for a vastly longer period than six thousand years. 1 suppose you have read the two lectures of Hugh Miller.which I indicated in my last letter, and can duly appreciate his argument when applied to ascertain the meaning of the six days of creation. Dr. Kurtz, Professor of Theology at Dor pal in Germany, one of ihe-most learned and ingenious biblical scholars of the age, says, when speaking of the interpretation of pro phetic writings : “Both these soils of histo ry,” (ihe past lying back beyond man’s knowledge, and the future,) “lie beyond the region of man’s knowledge. It is God alone who standing beyond and above space and lime, sees backwards and forwards both the development which preceded the first present of man and that which will succeed this our latest present. Whatever the difference of the two kinds of history may be, they hold Ihe same position in relation both to the prin ciple of the human ignorance and the princi ple of the human knowledge. The principle of the ignorance, is mao’s condition as a creature; the principle of the knowledge is the divine knowledge ; and the medium be tween ignorance and knowledge is objectively, divine revelation, and subjectively, prophetic nioeyd-orhftAx, verv important rule of interpretation” contin ues Dr. Kurtz, “viz., that the representation of pre-human events which rest upon revela tion are to be handled from the same point of view and expounded by the same laws as the prophecies and representations of future times and events, which rest also on revelation. — This is the only proper point of view for the scientific exposition of the Mosaic history of creation,” and I will add, of the Mosaic his tory of those periods of human existence which lie without the pale of human history and are only communicated to us by prophet ic vision. Speaking of the drama of creation Dr. Kurtz says : “Before the eye of the seer, scene after scene is unfolded, until at length, in the seven of them the course of creation in its main momenta has been fully represent ed.” “The revelation,” says Hugh Miller “has every characteristic of prophecy by vision; and mav be perhaps best understood by re garding” it simply as an exhibition of the ac tual phenomena of creation presented to the mental eye of the prophet under the ordina ry laws of perspective and truthfully described by him in the simple language of his lime,” All the arguments cited by the authors I have quoted, were used to show that the six days of creation were correctly understood to represent the six indefinite periods of crea tion and to reconcile the first chapter ot Gen esis with the developments of geological sci ence, and not to those periods denoted or de scribed in the early genealogies of Genesis, for both Dr. Kurtz and Hugh Miller acqui- esce in, if they do not directly advocate the Usher chronology ; yet you cannot help see ing that the same rules of interpretation ap ply to all past history dependent on prophetic vision. The various visions of Daniel, of Ezekiel, of Isaiah, and indeed of nearly all the proph ets are examples of perspective pictures of the future, and bear the same relation to the future as the prophetic visions of Moses do to the past; and all are to be subjected to the same canon of interpretation. Without coming any further down in the Mosaic history of the former ages than to the time when the Lord sent Abraham out from his country with the promise that he would make tun a great nation, 1 think any candid scholar will admit, and I believe that all bibli cal scholars do admit that this history of the first races, or nations, or families, or individ uals, if you choose to call them such, was a prophetic revelation of the past to Moses, or to whomsoever may have been the prophet, or prophets of Genesis, The book of Gene sis itself furnishes internal evidence that it is made up of separate tablets, or visions re vealed perhaps to successive and different prophets, and compiled probably by Moses under the direction of God himself. Ido not think that this view of the matter derogates in the least from the sacredness of the vol ume, or from the authenticity of its details, when rightly understood. The great object of the revelation of the first creation was to ; give to man a view—such a view asftta his . then uncultivated slate be could comprehend, of the origin of the world. The revelation was given to counteract monstrous supersti tions about the origin of all things, whic|i,at that lime existed ; a revelation too, that con forming to man’s comprehension in a state of low raental'cnlture, should be true in all its details when science should have developed the great book of nature. }■ • The first chapter of Genesis contains a succession of tablets or visions as seep by the prophet, and they are written down as they impressed themselves on his mind. The earth at first a chaos, without form and vjoid,. deep darkness veiling all things in impene trable mist; then a dim light penetrating through the darkness, as the sun far aljove the atmosphere that held this mist insuspen sion, passed on his western journey, and as he sank down beyond the western horizon, deep night; then this thick mist rising grad ually up from the surface of the earth ]and condensing into one vast circumambient clhud, and forming as it were a wide spread firma ment above, holding in suspension in a great store-house the waters ready to ba pohred down when occasion should require; aiion the waters that encompassed the earth slowly receding, and islands and continents slo'wly uprising, and then the herbage springing up to cover the new made land with a mamte of green ; and then as the rains become loosen ed from the clouds and descend to -water; the dry land, and to nourish the springing herb and fruit tree and grass, the clouds breaking asunder aud revealing to the gaze ofjthe prophet the glorious sun careering in| his journey, and as he disappears, the moon [and myriads of gliuering stars coming.forth in all iheir brilliancy; then as the prophet ga zes down into tho waters he beholds the sport ing fish and the mighty Leviathan, and out in the forest the winged fowl that fly up towards the firmament; land anon he beholds?the beasts of the field, the cattle upon a thousand hills, and the serpent as he glides along swift ly upon the face of the earth; and then comes man in the image of God, the crown-worjk of creation—male and female—Adam, the fath er of all the men of earth and Eve the Enli vening, the mother of all living. f All things were now finished. Tfae : six great periods of creation as seen in the] vis ion, were ended, and a new vision of a seventh day suddenly passes before his piind’s eye, and be sees God the Creator at rest. God himself symbolizing the Sabbath—a da?y of rest to man—one is seven, in which tojrest from his labors also, and to worship Gc|d in the great temple of nature. And the import ance of the observance of this day ofirest self was the example ! ; Then comes ihe great vision of marijin a primitive state ofinnocency, in/the propjjetic garden of Eden ; his temptation and his fall symbolizing that great propensity in hitman nature to treat the permitted and the forbid den alike ; that great serpent ns he is called in the vision—that evil spirit, whose influence we feel every day leading us astray from the path of virtue and true enjoyment i and the tendency of man to excuse every derelic tion of duly ; then man’s departure froijn Ihe garden, which to him had been an Eden, a paradise; the decay of a happy stale'df so ciety and the springing up of vice and Conse quent misery. [ The fourth chapter gives us a prophetic type of two classes —the one virtuous, happy, contented and worshiping God—the other, evil disposed, ill-tempered, envious, redenge fill, type of the world’s dwellers of all his torical limes—the good and the bad; the reward of virtue, the punishment of vice. But I will not pursue this train of thought farther. Suffice it to say that so far hs - 'lhe vision of creation is concerned, most . scien tific theologians adopt the explanation end in terpretation 1 have given above, though I know of none who pursue it further. But why adopt it for the creation 7 Because the discoveries of science have absolutely demonstrated that this is the true exegesis of the chapter, or rather chapters, and such exegesis is [not in-, consistent with the language made useiof, and is certainly consistent with what appears to be the great intent of revelation. } I ask now your special attention tof a more particular examination of “the vision of the early ages of creation” as recorded! in the first part of the book of Genesis. Turn to the fourth chapter and you will se£ in the first verse that Cain was born just about one year after the creation of Adam, taking the chronology as generally adopted. Then was born his brother Abel, and then is related tbs murder and its attending circumstances, and Cain’s punishment. VVhal was the great ob ject of this revelation. Simply t6\fteach us the genealogy of the world? or to jeach the world or the people whom God 1 hadt selected ns an entering wedge between idojatry and the human race, a great moral lesson. Look j at the fourteenth and fifteenlhlvers|;s. You will observe that as soon a#Sfie murder is j committed, Cain receives his sentence. Does he not most distinctly imply in whaft he says to the Lord that the earth is then pfeopled by ' more than the descendants of Adam! and Eve, | if he, Cain is the first born of Eveland Abel the second and not representative [men as I hold them to be. Read the .Lord’s answer. Either the earth was then in a grpat degree peopled, more so than can be reconciled with the. hypothesis that Cain and Abeljwere indi vidual men and not representative, and the second and third of the race, or the narrative manifestly in its language implies! what can not be true. In the sixteenth verse, Cain went out from the presence of the Lord and dwelt in the land of Nod—literally the land of the symbolizing his disgraced state after the murder of bis brother. “And he knew his wife and she conceived and bare Enoch.” If the narrative is to bp taken lit- -J Kates of,Advertising- i i i Advertisements will be charged SI pas square of .fourteen lines, for one, or three insertions, and tiS cents for every subsequent insertion-- AH advertise, meolsofless than'fourteen lines considered as » squate- The following rates will be charged lor Quarterly, Half-Yearly and Yearly advertising:—- 3 months. 6 months. 13 mo’s Square,(l4lines,J • $3 50 $4 50 $6 (10 SSqnarcs,. - ... 400 600 80* i column, .... 1000 1500 200* e .°ii am , n ' ’.* - - -18 00 30 00 40 0* All advertisements not having the number of in. aertiong marked upon them, will be kept in nnlilor dcred oat, and charged accordingly. Posters, Handbills, Bill, and Letter Heads, and 1 alt hinds of Jobbing dodo in country establishments executed neatly and promptly. Justice!’, Consta bles’ and other BLANKS, constantly on hand and printed to order. NO. 17: erally and not as a prophetic vision, where and what was the land of Nodi Who named it? , Where did Cain procure his wife?' Was she his sister or who was she? Did you ever read this chapter without feeling that if the common exegesis was to be ac cepled as the true one, there was a mystery you could not solve? Have you not always felt inclined to ask the same questions that I have asked above ? "And do you not iee| that this explanation that Cain and Abel were on ly types or representative men, introduced fo symbolize certain moral' actions, does away with the difficulty and giyes a moral sublim ily to the whole narrative? Read on,—And Cain when he had committed the fratracidal deed of blood built a city and called it after bis son Enoch, This the cbronologists say was one hundred and twemy-nine years af ter the creation of Adam and Eve, or when Cain was one hundred and twenty-eight years old. We have then following in this fourth chapter a genealogy branching off or coming down from Cain and apparently distinct from that in the fifth chapter. The fifth genera tion from Enoch or the seventh generation of the world according to the common exegesis embraces “Jabal, the father of such as dwelt in tents and have cattle.” “Jubal, the father of such as handle the harp and organ,” and “Tubal Cain, an instructor of every artificer in brass and iron.” Allowing one hundred years to intervene between the birth of each progenitor, which is probably too much and is forty-three years more than the aggregate put down from Adam to Methuselah, which embraces the.same number of progenitors, and we have about seven hundred years of the world of man from tho first germ, and during the time, or rather commencing at that time, we have the various manufacturers of brass anefc iron and the invention of tho ' harp and organ. According to any rational 1 method of biblical exegesis, Jabal and Jubal and Tubal Cain must be taken only as repre sentative names to distinguish the distinct classes of shepherds, musicians and artificers', and perhaps to give to the post-diluvian in habitants a glimpse of ante-diluvian advance ment. The object of the prophetic tablet in the twenty-third and twenty-fourth verses seems to have been to present a case of remorse arising from a most foul crime, and that remorse impelling to confession, and an acknowledgment of the justice of even a very much,'deeper punishment tha* had been in dicted on Cain for the murder of his brother. The first murd.er was cool, concealed, and without remorse. Its punishment was re attending circumstances, was followed by deep remorse, by full confession and by a frank and free of the jus tice of any punishment God might see fit to inflict, and Lantech was not punished. Was the object of these two prophetic vis ions to give simply the genealogy of some eight of the children of Cain ? Or was it for a nobler object—to teach the two great moral stales of ihe mind consequent on crime, the punishment of crime doggedly justified and the forgiveness of crime repented of; to foreshadow, indeed, the great fundamental doctrine of the dispensation of Christ ? Was not the second as I have indicated above, and was not the first a tablet or vision represent ing two brothers, descendants of one com mon father —one quiet, contenled and happy, i the oiher ambitious, envious, wiih a mind disordered by vicious propensities and ready even to resent on the recipient the respect his virtues naturally commanded. Yea, has not this vision a higher meaning, if possible?—. . and does noithis view of it give the divine -j_ record a dignity with which the other most signally fails to invest it ? t But I am making this letter too long and must close. Do ifbt think, my dear Mary, I am dwelling too minutely on this part of my argument. 1 wish to make it plain to you that tho divine historian has given us a narrative, when rightly understood, in perfect harmony with the revelations of science. I would not for the world infuse into your mind even the smallest doubt, but would lead you to lake a higher and nobler view of this great prophelic record, than has been taken by most of our theologians. In my next I will pursue the argument and trust in the mean tiilne you will duly weigh all I have said, and that you will carefully and prayer fully study the record. Yours truly, J. E. An Odd Sort of Theology. —A Presi ding Elder in Walker Co., Ala., was exam ining an applicant for a preaching license— one who fell very ambitious of‘splaining and ‘spounding the scriptures—“ Brother,” said our friend, the Presiding Elder “ate you a Unitaripn or a Trinitarin V’ After studying awhile—repealing in an un dertone, “U-n-i-t-a-r-i-a-n, T-r-i-n-i-t-a.i-a-n” the applicant answered: “Well, I always voted the TJnioh ticket, and I’m a Union man ; so I reckon I’m a Unitarian.”’ The quarterly; Conference didn't think it a safe case ; although the worthy brother is on hand on election days, for saving thelUnion, “ Sense.— A rough common sense pervades the following, in which there is certainly more truth than poetry : “Great men never swell. It is only three cent individuals who are salaried at the rate of two hundred dollars a year and dine on potatoes and dried herring, who put on airs and flashy waistcoats, swell, puff, blow and endeavor to give themselves a consequential appearance. No discriminating person can ever mistake the spurious for the genuine article. The difference between the two is as great as that between a bottle of vinegar and a bottle of the pure juice df the grape,’’
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