Presbyterian banner. (Pittsburgh, Pa.) 1860-1898, June 29, 1864, Image 1

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    Allb/S°N7 } EDITORS,
PATTERWN,
AL% 'i:;;;014 & CO. ; Proprietors.
TEre MS tN ADVANCE.
7jAll,fno.gii or sloo
TlSLltx.ftn r 773 F. CI 'Me CillES 2.50
rrt anharribera and npwarda, trill
••• •r piper wjti.ant .-!;:lrge, and another
Ccr t.‘n ;
li't le before the year expires.
11,:o•rt at! 1 ?
• - - -
JAN ES ALLISON & CO.,
PITTSBURQII, PA
For the Preabytorlan linnner
A Choploiu's Furlough.
WAsuiNcyrox, D. C., June 2, 1864
ESSRS. EDITORS :—Having spent four
il l s in the crowded halls of the miserable
n byles of Libby Prison, I was let out
3011, without parole, and conduct.
under guard, to the flag of truce boat,
S/teeliz, and sailed down, with some 860
:orved prisoners, to City Point, the place
e: exchange.
For breakfast they gave us wheat bread,
kind of briny looking mixture they
called soup. It looked and tasted tike the
m uddy water of James river and vinegar.
The wheat bread tasted good, after eating
nothing but hard-tack and coarse, rough
corn bread for so long. Our poor, half
starved to death prisoners, crowded into
dr boat, presented an awful sight. They
were Tory hungry. At City Point we met
our flag of truce boat, with a large white,
and small Union flag : we cheered it. Here
w e exchanged prisoners, and could but
wee p to see how rough those hard-hearted
ski rebels handled our poor soldiers. There
were in all, 82 officers, and some 360 pri
vates, all just from captivity. You can't
tell, Messrs. Editors, bow glad we were to
escape from rebeldom, and once more sail
ender our glorious flag. Touching at For
tress Monroe, we sailed up the beautiful
Chesapeake, and soon reaohed our destined
point, Annapolis, Md. Having reported
ourselves to the officer of Camp Parole, we
repaired to clothing stores and hotels; and
h av ing enjoyed a wash, " a change," and a
full meal once more, I went down to see
how the poor sink boys fared in' the hospi
tals. The first sight I saw was one poor
fellow exchange worlds, attended by two
kind lady nurses. I noticed him particu
larly on the boat amidst all the rest, where
I procured with much difficulty for him -a
little toast, potatoes and meat. He ate it
with much avidity. lie was then pale as
death, and nothing but skin and bones.
Ile died without a moan, yet the twitching
of the face showed the pain of dying.
The boys all seemed highly pleased with
their fare and treatment in the Navy Gen
eral Hospital. It is a most beautiful plane,
and well kept; and although I received
from the Secretary of War, a leave of ab
sence for twenty days, yet feeling interest.,
ed in the welfare of those suffering paroled
prisoners, and remembering that my regi
ment is still held in captivity away down
in Georgia, I preferred to labor on in the
Inspital with those sick boys. This is no
time to lay aside duty and go home on fur
lough. The Lord gives no furloughs.
No: His charge is, "Be thou faithful
unto death." Our bleeding country—the
goons of the wounded and dying soldier—
God and the Church, all loudly call upon
every man now to stand to his post, and do
his utmost for the salvation of our country.
Having spent some four weeks at Annap
olis, we went to the Secretary of War and
proposed to go to "the front," and help
take care of the wounded, but he said they
had enough, and I was ordered to report at
Fortress Monroe for duty,
Washington still lives and moves; and
the first idea that struck my mind on enter
ing it, and seeing the streets so thronged
with men, was, " Why don't they go and
help Grant whip Lee ?" " This city of
magnificent distances and splendid pover.-
ty'l is, with all its iniquity, quiet on the
Sabbath day. The street-careetop, and the
people quietly walk to church. This is
very commendable.
Passing down ,7th Street, Sabbath eve
ning, to the Armory Hospital, we dropped
in to see the News-Boys' Sabbath School.
It is held in their "Home," on 7th Street.
There the poor boys, many of them in rags,
meet to read, learn, and sing about Jesus.
Some of them are quite well dressed. They
are full of energy, and traverse the
and cry off their papers with great zeal.
It is an not of charity to buy from
them, and when they offer you a pa
per, reader, buy it for their sake as well as
for your own. The Sabbath School is well
managed. With a well-played melodeon,
they have good, cheering music. It is
most delightful to see how the promising
boys "pitch in" and sing.
On Monday morning the city was all
alive with Sabbath Schools, in parading to
pay their respects to the President. , About
10 o'clock, all neatly dressed, yet some very
common, the vast procession, adorned with
splendid banners, flags, and significant mot
toes, began to pass the President's House,
with Old Abraham standing in the window
waving his hat as they heartily cheered
him, passing along. Sometimes the music
was stirring, and the enthusiasm thrilling.
The procession must have been two or
three miles long. It was a grand and im
posing sight. To see such a host of little
children, guided and guarded by their
teachers, thus engaged in the holy cause of
"searching the Scriptures," in our Nation
al capital, is truly encouraging.
WASHINGTON HOSPITALS.
To these humane institutions over tweu.
ty.five thousand of our wounded in the late
battles in the Richmond campaign have
been brought for care. Many of them have
been crowded. General Hospitals and hoe•
pital work have now become common, and
29 might be expected, doubtless receive
less attention than at first. With sorrow
be it said, I heard that much complaint ex
ists among the wounded, of their fare and
treatment. How hard, that our brave sol
diers who have suffered, bled, and almost
died for our country, should suffer in the
midst of such ample means of comfort as
Washington affords, 'Scarcely any thing
tends so much to' cheer and comfort the
wounded and sick, as sympathy and kind.
ness. A. S. B.
For the Presbyterian Banner
The Apocalypse,
The following arrangement of the scenes
desoribed in the Book of Revelation may
assist in understanding their meaning. It
is founded on the usual plan of the Pano
rama, for which this book would form a
grand subject.
infroductory.---The Apostle John in
Patmos. A Manifestation of Christ.—
Rev. i.
Scenes.—The Seven Churches of Asia.
—Rev. A. D. 00.
Aterindes.—The Throne of God and its
surroundings. The seven sealed book.—
Rev. iv, v.
Scenes.—The first six seals.—Rev. vi.
Nerla till Constantine A. D. 96-306.
Interludeft,—Four aogela holding the
winds. The settled. Silence in heaven.
Angel with golden eenser.—Rev. vii, viii :
5. A. D. 30G-400.
Sceses.—Tho first six trumpets. Mighty
angel with little book open. Two Wit
nesses.--Rev. viii: 6; xi : 14. Alarin
the Goth. A. D. 400, till the Reforms
tin, A.T. 1560.
ingertede.—The seventh trumpet—Tri.
umph of the Chureh.—Rev. xi : 15-19.
Scnes.—The True Church and the
Apostaoy.—Rev. xii, xiii. A. D. 316, till
the downfall of Babylon.
Intartude;—.Mt. Sion and its occupants.
ilv 1-6.
ffoonese.-§tefewatgell of r4oroy;—Bev.
j t> .
rt . Op ' t
4-
1 .. C r ,/ .1
'*..;,
• .1
OL. XII. NO. 41
xiv: 6-20. From the Reformation to
'the French Revolution,
interlude.—Sca of glass mingled with
fire.—Rev. xv.
Scenes—Seven vials of wrath.—Rev.
xvi. Napoleon Bonaparte till the destruc
tion of Babylon.
Interludes.—Babylon the Great. Its
final fail.—Rev.
Scenes.—Marriage of the Lamb. - The
Armies of Heaven and their Leader. Mil
lennium. Little season. Final judgment.
New Jerusalem.—Rev. six—xxii 5.
Closing scenes.—John falling at the an
gel's feet. Jesus the bright and Morning
Star. Warning and invitation.—Rev. xxii
6-21.
This arrangement of these scenes may
furnish a clue to their meaning and fix
them on our memories. It differs in some
respects from any we have seen, but is the
result of careful reading and study' and ex
position. We are not bound to follow the
opinions of others further than we are con
vinced of their truth, and must assign our
reasons for refusing to embrace them,
when
we are furnished with the opportunity.
We are prepared to comply with this de
mand, and shall endeavor to elucidate some
of the more salient points of prophecy
connected with these scenes, as fully as the
limited columns of a newspaper will allow,
desiring our readers to remember the plan
we have laid down, as a knotted thread or
linked chain, to aid our mutual labor.
For the Presbyterian Ennuer
Moral Mints.
1. When you respeot yourself, o t thers• will
respect you in the sphere in which you
move ; if any do not, their respect is
not worth having, nor phould occasion an
anxious thought.
2. Never seek the respect of any one,
for any carnal good, gift, or benefit ; but
walk in wisdom's ways, and that will com
mand the regard and admiration of all, and
when you most need it, you will find it.
Respect acquired by selfishness is generally
at the sacrifice of some moral principle, and
can't be found when you most need it.
3. God has placed you as the only guard
and watch over yourself, and your only
real enemy is your own heart.
4. They who are most dependent on God,
in the same ratio are independent , of man
or the world.
5. Depend on the blessing of God, and
your own efforts, for what is needful for
this life and that to come.
6. Covet no earthly good for any in
herent good in it, but to make it subser
vient to a greater or eternal good, the good
of the universe; bat covet earnestly the
best gifts.
7. Covet no earthly good unless you
earn it, or have a legal or just right to it.
8. : That which comes by law or jastiee,
or as a token of merit or affection, is legit
imate ; but do not sacrifice self respect or
principle to obtain any object, or so set
your hearts upon it that it should cause
you to murmur against Providence if dis
appointed.
9. Men by nature are aspiring—ambi
tious, climbing up, without regard to where
or upon whom they tread, rich or poor ;
the sound policy and principle is, to stoop
and help elevate all below us with us, as
God stooped from his throne of glory to
raise man from his degradation. •
10. Strive to be what you are tempted
to appear to be.
11. Never make yourself an uncommon
object of attention from the crowds or
masses, only for the real good of the masses;
or make uncommon gestures, or assume
novel modes of apparel, to draw attention
to yourself.
12. Never make yourself so prominent
in conversation or action, as to undervalue
others—et is presumption ; nor be so bash
ful as to hide behind the door, or sneak off
to evade responsibility, because you think
you have no influence—it is , the absence
of all self-respect.
13. Never join in secret combinations
against the interests of any one, company,
or community; because you have a legal
right, only to preserve the peace and secu
rity of the community, or to arrest the
criminal. Trades' Unions are immoral in
their tendencies.
14. Where it is lawful to form combina
tions) as against a political party, act open
ly, not secretly. Never aspire to be a
politician, only to be useful to all.
15. Never stare at persons whose counte
tuusces are disfigured, either by Providence,
disease, or folly, while passing them, and
they are sensible of it; it is the mark of
a gentleman not deliberately to hurt the
feelings of any one.
16. Never smile at - at make sport of the
misfortunes, mistakes, or follies of man,
nor use a nickname when you know the
right one; nor use epithets of opprobium
to degrade man,: who is the image of God.
17. Never exult or make boisterous de
monstrations when you have become victo
rious over an enemy or opponent; but re
joice with trembling.
18. Don't be ashamed to help the beg
gar, drunkard or criminal from the high
way, where his life or health might be in
jeopardy he may be your dearest friend's
relative; while others would fear they
would compromise their dignity, they
would respect you for the act.
19. Cultivate a feeling of sincere in
terest for the true happiness and pros
perity of all : it is the only true policy to
promote your own.
20. If you are now, or should become, a
member of the Church of Christ; do not
esteem yourself a mere passenger, your only
interest being to-leave one port to get safely
to an other, nor consider the officer or con
ductor as responsible for -your safe arrival.
The Church does not sanctify you; you are
to sanctify the Church, you being a mem
ber of the body of Christ, which is the
Church.
21. When men give as a reason, in a
peculiar, excited manner, that they must,
or cannot, do so-and-so, because of their
1 oath, don't believe them any more on that
account; negatively, it admits their word
I is not so reliable as their oath.
22. Men of enlightened conscience and
judgment seldom use the word oath or con
science, to convince you they are telling
the truth.
23. Men will take an oath in the most
imposing and solemn form, and go out and
profanely call upon God to curse their
souls; such men may tell the truth from
fear of consequences from God or man, but
not from a love of . truth, or from a right
understanding of what is truth.
24. We should not be fond of life, nor
weary of it.—Rev. P. Henry.
25. He that will not die when he must,
and he that will die when he must not, are
both alike oowards.—Rev. J. Howes.
26.—Riches will not purchase happiness,
nor poverty drive it away.—Rev. Dr.
Arnott. G. A.
Tract Effort.
Last Bummer, a tract visitor while mak
ing excursions to Harlem, on the steam
boat, for healthful recreation, also remora
bawl the injunction to soli beads wa
PITTSBURGH, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 29, 1864,
tem, and occasionally distributed tracts
among the passengers, as she had opportu
nity. At one time she gave a tract to a
gentleman, who deliberately folded it up
Into a small compass, and then cut it away,
piece by piece, throwing each particle over
board. As she passed him again' she said
mildly and yet seriously, "You will be
called to account for that,' and then silent
ly lifted her heart in prayer. Lately as
the tract visitor was walking along the
Second Avenue, she was met by this gen
tleman, who instantly approached her with
extended band, and thanked her for the
tract given him last Summer on the Har
lem boat.
It appears that when he was preparing
to retire on the night of that occurrence,
as he removed his vest a little piece of the
tract, which had there been concealed, fell
on the floor; he took it up and saw the
words, " God and eternity." These awak
ened thought and troubled his conscience;
ho passed an uncomfortable night. The
nest day " God and eternity," " called to
an account," followed him everywhere;
and in spite of all his efforts he could not
rid himself of the troublesome intruders.
At length he could resist the strivings of
the Spirit no longer; he went to the
of God, and there learned of the
way, the truth and the life; and now en
joys a good hope through grace and is
numbered among the people of l God.—
Ohris' t. int.
[Original.]
Lines.
BY MRS. LBW WADE.
[After ono of the recent battles fought in the Southwest, a
Rebel found a Federal eoldier, apparently dead,- preening to
his breast a picture. As the Rebel attempted to take it
frcm him, the dying soldier, opening his eyes, said in tones
of entreaty, "Do na touch my sister's picture']
Do not touch my sister's picture!
'T was her parting gift to me ;
Let me gaze on those loved features
I no more in life shall see.
It was with me in the battle,
In the thickest of the fight—
In my lonely picket duty,
Through the long and dreary night.
Helping me endure privation,
Hardship, hunger, want, and cold ;
Filling me with inspiration,
With a courage true and bold ;
Cheering me with hopes of viot'ry,'
And of• triumph - o'er our foe,
When the mighty hand of Freedom
Gives to Treason its death-blow.
I had hoped to share the glory •
Of that coming joyous day ;
But the hand of death is on me,
And my life ebbs fast away.
Dying 'mid the roar of battle,
None to pity, none to cheer;
Soldier, do not touch this picture
Of my only sister dear. .
That dear sister waits my coining,
In our home beside the sea,
Praying for her soldier brother,
Daily on the beaded knee ;
Hoping, waiting, watching, praying
We may meet on earth once more,
" When this cruel war is over "
Meet on loved New-England's shore
Do not touch my sister's picture,
He implored with dying breath' -
And
-
And the soldier ceased his pleading,
Closed his languid eyes in death.
Then the foeman, touched with pity,
Sought for him a place of rest;
Buried there the Federal soldier,
With the picture on his breast.
Pittsburgh, April, 1864.
MISSIONARY.
The Martyrs of Madagasear.—The martyrs
of Madagascar have special claim upon our
devout recognition. They are the inhabi
tants of an island whose position in many
respects is like that of England, in that
stage of her progress when Gospel light
and Christian leaven had been there some ,
fifty years, They belong to a nation whose
natural capabilities are not inferior to those
of our own people. They are part of a
race whose sensitiveness and susceptibili
ties gave promise of ultimate cultivation of
the highest kind. They belong to a people
who are likely to shine as a gem among
those nations whose home is in the sea.
They have suffered, not clad in the scarlet
of ostentation, but clothed in the white
raiment of a child-like simplicity. They
have suffered, after having displayed a pru
dence of which the African and Asiatic of
ancient days were in many cases destitute.
They have endured with fOrtitude which an
old Roman would have honored, and with
heroism of a kind which a Greek would
have worshipped. They were watched, be
trayed, hunted down, imprisoned, tortured,
scalded to death, burned to death, speared
to death, and cast down precipices, with all
the aggravations which the ingenuity of
cruelty could invent. And they spake for
Christ while they suffered—they prayed
while they suffered—prayed for their mur
derers; they sang while they suffered, tak
ing joyfully the spoiling of their goods and
the shedding of their blood. "To die for
truth is not to die for one's country, but to
die for the world."—Loud. Kis. May.
Missionary Work in Polynesia.—The last
returns of the Wesleyan Missions in New
Zealand, the Friendly Islands, part of
Samoa, and the Fiji Islands, which are un
der the direction of the Australasian Con
ference, give the following statistics :
Chapels, 634, besides upward of 300 other
preaching places; missionaries and assistant
missionaries, 81 ; catechists, 244; church
members, 23,349; day scholars, upward
of 43,000; and attendants on public
worship, upward of 99,800.—Thc inde
pendent.
Heathen and Christian Giving.—The Rev.
Charles Gutzlaff, who labored twenty years
as a missionary in China, and who, Vern
his intimate knowledge of the language,
was familiar with almost everything per
taining to the Chinese, says of them, that
they give much more, in proportion to their
lucerne to sustain their heathen religions
an4er 4 4
stitions that Christians do to sus
tain the true faith.
A Negro Bishop.—The African seems to
be looking up among our English brethren
as well as here. A vacant colonial bishop
ric has recently been filled by the appoint
ment of a fall-blooded black man of excel
lent repute, and the fact seems to be re
garded with great interest and favor by all
parties. The original name of this gentle
man, now called the Rev. Samuel Crowther,
was Adjai, and his history is a most re
markable one. In 1821 he was carried off
from his home; and exchanged for a horse;
-then he was exchanged for something else,
and cruelly treated ; then again he was sold
for some tobacco; next shipped on board a
slaver, he was captured by an English
man of war, and landed in Sierra Leone in
1822. There he was baptized, kind took
the name of a Well-known evangelical min
ister, and was henceforth known by the
name of " Samuel Crowther." Four years
after his baptism he married a
. native girl,
Asano. - He loved learning; from a pupil
he became a teacher; for years he was a
schoolmaster at Regent's Town; after that
he accompanied one of the Niger expedi
tions as interpreter; and then he came to
England. Having completed his studies
at, the Chnroh Missionary College, Isling
ton„, he was ordained by the Bishop of Lon
don. As a clergyman, he has labored zeal-
ously, and, amongst other things, has
translated the Bible into his native dialeot.
On one of his visits to England he was
very graciously received by the Queen and
Prince Consort, and now we learn that he
is to be Bishop of Niger.
Chinn The church members connected
with Protestant missions in China now
number about 2,500. Of these 800, or
neatly one-third, are to be found in Amoy,
and the rural villages around it—where,
for the last ten years, remarkable success
has-attended the labors of the London Mis
sionary Society, of our Dutch Reformed
brethren from. America, and the English
Presbyterians.
The Chinese capital appears at length to
be fully open to the operations of Protes
tant missions. The Church Missionary
and Propagation Societies, the London Mis
sionaly Society, the English Presbyterian
Mission, and the American Presbyterian
Boaid, are all represented at Pekin.
Three of the missionaries are accompanied
by their wives.
Itesopotamia,—Dr. D. H. Nutting, of the
Mission at Oorfa, Mesopotarnia, the Ur of
the Chaldees, writes that the Missionary
Congregation, which, six years ago, consis
ted of only twenty persons, now has 240 per
sons, or more, in it—and that they sustain
three schools, pay the, salary of a native
pastor, and give to benevolent objects tb ihe
utmost of their abili ' • '
The Jews at ' Leghor sionary to
the Jews at Leghorn, Mr. Meyer, himself
formerly a Rabbi at Glasgow, and greatly
blessed in his sphere of labor, remarks how
G-od is overruling Renan's infidel won,. to
make large numbers of Jews, who have
read it, buy and read the New Testament,'
and especially the writings of the four
Evangelists, to see for , themselves what
Jesus really was, and said, in the days of his
flesh. Thus Jehovah has manifold waykof
employing the wrath of man and the oppo
sition of man for the furtherance of his
kingdom.
Clergymen and their Families
Is it reputable, is it honorable for a church
to half starve its minister living, =and
.wholly starve his family when he is dead ?
The State has •its perision for the widow
whose husband has laid down his life for
his country—an hononorable provision—
she feels it a just tribute, to the, valor of
the departed. Has the Church militant no
pension for the 'widows of her brave war
riors, who, oft "by the wayside fall and
perish," worn out, as much by the hard
ships of the march, as by the wounds of
the stern conflict ?
Those pale, earnest faces, they rise up
before us, to remind us of the band of
young devoted soldiers of the Cross who
have braved disease, danger, and death,
that they might win a harvest of souls.
Theirs was not a wasted existence, though
cg few were their years and full of trouble !"
Their crowns will be iich with stars, where
the redeemed are counted in glory. But
we turn to the young wives who mourn
their loss. Has the Church no band of
pity to stretch out to them ? She has ta
ken their best for her vanguard—has she
nought for them bat the dead bodies of
their hero husbands ?
The hoary-headed saint has gone down
to the tomb. Mote than half a century he
has ministered at tie altar;.and tiow, full
of years and good deeds, he is 'numbered
with the dead. Must his aged partner toil
with trembling hands, and begin the strug
gle for daily bread? Is there for her - no
pension—no kind provision for this time
of need ? Must she leave the dear old par
sonage, and go, she knows not where ?
Must she find refuge in some squalid board
ing house, and wipe the tears from her
wrinkled face, where cold, curious eyes
may look upon her? That eloquent, effec
tive preacher of the Gospel is smitten
down in the midst of his noble career.
Victory and death are sounded for him with
one blast of the trumpet. His dying words
have power to startle the insensible from
their dreams of folly or gain.
Even as his life-blood ebbs away, his tri
umphant faith, with clarion sounds, pro
claims the truth of the religion he has
preached. The Church mourns, the very
world Dives in its tribute of mingled sor
row and praise. This is very. well, but
where is the provision for the fatherless
children of the glorified saint? Who steps
forward to pledge a support of the poor
stricken widow ? She will bear up bravely
while she can, and feed her little ones by
efforts that consume her own life. She
will not linger long; toil and sorrow, with
rough kindness, will hurry her to that land
where her husband awaits her. Whose,
then, are these fatherless children ? Those
orphans have a claim upon the Church
which she cannot escape.
We do not ignore the fact that there are
scattered societies whose object it is to pro
vide for the widows and orphans of de
ceased clergymen. Such Societies exist;
but how are they sustained? How many
families could be kept from utter starva
tion by their scanty income ? Scrimp,
pinch, and stint your minister, if you
must, but remember even in open warfare,
women and children are exempt from per
secutron.
Be satisfied with making sure that your
minister is not so wellied and clothed, and
has nought whereon to feed his pride, or
foster a love of luxury. Train him accord
ing to your close notions, but spare his wife
and children the horrors of genteel pover
ty. Where is the rich widow that will
give largely to establish' a fund for the
families of deceased clergymen ? Where
is the large-hearted, liberal man who would
fain wipe the blot, of which we have spo :
ken, from the church of which he is a
member ?
Let it no longer be said that the private
soldier who dies unknown on, the battle
field, is chred on by the thought that his
country wih'watch over his dear ones, while
the Soldier orthe Crosi must have his last
hours embittered by the knowledge that
certain poverty and possible starvation are
in store for that widow and those father
less children, whom the Church should
take to her bosom, and foster with tender,
unwearied care.—Godey's Lady's Book.
Themes for the Pulpit.
Few things are more surprising to a pa
rochial clergyman than the very limited
extent of the theological system which, af
ter a whole life, has been formed in the
minds of his most intelligent parishioners.
They become established in those great
matters of faith which are most radiant on
the sacred page, and which nourish the in
ner man of the heart; and they are famil
iar with the precepts of the Gospel. But
they Roth' with very little.profit to diseus
sions which, however grave and weighty,
are yet quite foreign to their sphere of
thought and of action.. And surely- the
word of God and the world itself are rich
in topies`of vast interest to every immor
tal and responsible creature, and yet Capa
ble of fixing the deepest attention of all
who have ears to hear. Go not, however,
into the world, as it engages most the men
of the world, for your topics of" discourse,
nor seek to interest them by sacrificing the
day of holy rest to the same themes which
engross their souls through the six days of
labor.
It is a fearful error, when Christian min
isters, under the hope of adapting them
selves to the calls of the age, collect infor
mation from every side except from the
only oracles of God; know, something of
every subject which yesterday was midis
) covered, and to-morrow will be left behind,
and forget that one which is the same yes
terday, and to-day, and forever; and thtis
take the price which men bring to buy
food for their souls, and give them in re
turn the husk over which they have been
famishing. It is all in vain, too, even as a
substitute for religion. The most unprin
cipled sophist who dares to-fill a pulpit for
the sake of uttering aloud his opinions in
the place of Christianity,*aniuses but for a
little while the souls he assists in destroy
ing. They come and go in an ever-floiving
tide, and pause under his influence only
long enough to learn how despicable is the
effort or the pretence, to, clothe the desire
and pursuits 'of the-world with the Pure,
white ,robni.oohenien. - Oh! let none of
the true ministers. of the_ Lord Jesus imi
tate such follY i and-fail into like condemna
tion.
A direct and manly presentation of iTigr:
t ru th must embrAce,, however, all t -
698 of all, anViit . u . AU 105 ., t ev_ery .
peal to' the denseiffeetut.men ; if we , are
plainly afraid or titiwilling =to go Us fir as
their own conscience has proceeded already.
There is an idea which is never avowed in
general terms, but to which, on many occa
sions, clergymen, prompted by, the love of
ease or by more amiable motives, have
yielded too much; that; whenever any
moral question has sufficiently agitated the
minds or touched the interests of men, to
be brought within the stir of social discus
sion and of public action, the ministers of
religion are to stand' aloof and in silence.
Undoubtedly they will not, if they are
wise, be mingled up in the strife of tongues,
where on every side there is so much that
is at war with Christian truth and charity.
But just as undoubtedly, wherever there is
a right and a wrong, they Cannot be indif
ferent at heart, without utter unfaithful;
ness to their righteous Lord; they, must
not practice disguise; and in the exercise
of a godly prudence, they must take good
heed that they never permit themselves to
become the unconscious or timorous instru
ments of those whose designs are selfish
and wicked. An elevated and restrained
conduct., but perfectly open and decided, is
the only one that can commend us to ,the
conscience of mankind.-
Can they really respect us, or hear us
with real confidence, or be moved to practi
cal godliness by our words or example, if
they suppose us unconcerned in questions
which cannot but involve immense mis
chief or usefulness ? They may consent
that we should occupy our own place if we
define it thus; they may leave us to our
selveS; they may, very possibly, applaud
the teachers who disturb them not. But
this is a kind of deference which should
cover a Christian minister with dismay,
since it is purchased by the sacrifice of re
ligion itself. Fora religion which aims at
no influence over the business, the social
intercourse, or the "legislation of men; a
religion which does not' seek, by all hope
ful means, to alleviate human sufferings,
and to extend earthly as :well as eternal
blessings to all, is not the _religion which
they feel that they need who feel that they
need any; is not the- religion which they
see on the very surface of the Scriptures.
The one task of sustaining all things as
they are, is as 'far as possible from being
the summary of our duty. Fully aware as
I am of the vast diffieulties which in this
age are to be encountered by those who
would carry the principles, of the Gospel
into everything which they do, yet it must
be said that there is no other way of con
vincing men of the world of our deep earn
estness.----Rt. Rev. Geo. Burgess.
The Credulity of Skepticism,
A dishnguished French scholar, of con
siderable learning, enriched by varied trav
el, and master of an attractive style, set
himself to compose a life of Jesus,' but he
began by deciAing beforehand, without an
investigation, what is the chief question in
any rational view of that marvelous life, to
wit, whether it proceeds from fixed natural
laws, or on the contrary involves another
and divine element. M. Ronan laid it .
down in his preface that miracle should be
banished from history, and that a supernat
ural narrative always implies credulity or
imposture. Proceeding: from this postulate
he went on to construct a memoir, of our
Saviour, on the principles of pure-natural
ism. And what has been the result ? We
answer unhesitatingly, the production •of
mere biographical or philosophical romance
far harder to believe than any of those wri
tings which are professedly and throughout
the work of the imagination: Notwith
standing numerous graces of style and
pieces of exquisite description, the book
represents, what is an impossible character.
In the Gospel according to &nen, Jesus is
a hero of humanity, the foremost man of all
t'me, the ideal of the race ; yet he allowed
himself by the pressure of circumstances to
become a thaurnaturge, an exorcist, an ac
complice of impostors ; and stranger yet,
these very defeats, his fictitious miracles
and his visionary claims,to , be the Messiah,
were the ground and source of all the suc
cess which attended him in the ' t world.
Now, whatever' may be the true theory of
our Saviour's life, it is manifest that' this
cannot .be it. It is so absurd and unnatu
ral as to be impossible. -It is conceivable
that the Son of Mary was an enthusiast or an
impostor; but that he should be the most
god-iike of men and at the same time a
conscious actor in the most monstrous
frauds history has ever related—this is in
conceivable. -No rhetoric, no sentiment
can possibly save this representation from
being at utter fable. It is not only incred
ible but impossible. One may search in
vain the most sensational of modern writers
of fiction to finka character so forced and
violent.—Dr. Chambers.
Seek out the Afflicted
As a general thing, there are only two
classes of persons whose pursuits in life
naturally hring them in contact with the
timid and shrinking victims of misfortune,
and these classes Are those of, ;ministers and
physicians. Every faithful minister has a
store, of, such little histories to, relate, and
the doctor of medicine never fails to have
the nature of his heart and 'head tested by
them. .Various, striking' cases of this sort
have recently been related to us by an es
teemed medical friend of Brooklyn, whose
great, benevolence of disposition qualifies
him as eminently - for the greet responsibil
ities of his:profession as does the skill ac
quired by his long and extensive pcactiee.
Mrs. Hall, the authoress, "in: her sketches
of Ireland, gives a startling account of a
par flouter ease of silent misery which en
cited her attention while her carriage was
being besieged by a noisy troop of beggars,
who, in turn, flattered, argua with, or en
treated the lady, and disparaged or railed'
at each other's claims. But Mrs. Hall's
attention was drawn from these boisterous
WHOLE NO. 610
individuals to a woman with a child in her
arms, seated by a door-way at some dis
tance, in an attitude of extreme feebleness
and dejection; and on going up to this
poor creature, it was discovered that she
and the child were actually dying of starva
tion—perishing in silence, while so many
less worthy objects of charity were clamor
ing loudly for assistance near by !
We do not mean to discourage giving to
beggars where there are any reasons for
supposing them to be, really deserving of
assistance; but you may depend upon it,
that, by applying the largest part of what'
you have to give in' charity to the relief of
those who shrink from asking the help
which they sorely need, you will be much
less apt to waste your bounty on impostors,
and will stand a much better chance of re
lieving those who may emphatically be
called " the Lord's poor."—Christian ln
telligencer.
Forthe treabyterian Bannor
A Lull
*la the Battle.
BY MRS. E. B. CIIRRAM.
There's a lull in the battle to-night,
And the smoke is clearing away;
The dusky dew .hides the dead from sight,
„,4.5. 1 4tt then, till the dawn of day. .
taktk64o and sleep; in the open'air—
R.AVskire tlikaovedtoriei at.home to Weep; .
yourbitd, andispanq:,tyottr fare,
Jehoiah tEirtri&rivilrieeP
The din, and' the strife, are over now,
No sound but the panting steed's breath;
And moans of wounded, sad and low,
All else ip as silent as death.
Many . brave hearts, on the bloody field,
That beat high at the morn, are still ;
The sun went down on the broken shield,
And you must the vacancy fill.
The desert, we, know,is.statter'd o'er .
With,the chums ye loved so well;
They 'll meet at the oimp-fire nevermore,
The Ude of the battle to, tell.
Wipe now the blood and sweat fromyour hands,
- Let the vulture Barman on, to-night;
Sleep, then in peel'd.and broken bands,
For the dawn reneweth the fight.
Weep not for the lost, iromanly tears,
Nor the blood-stained garments heed;;
'Round thee hovers the ancient of years,"
To steel your arm in the time of need.
We lean on your vigorous arms, boys,
Till the die of the fight is east;
We know you will never turn bank, boys,
Till the bloody harvest sweeps past.
That God, who the stripling shepherd led
From his flock on the mountain side,
With a sling-stone from the brooklet's bed
Shiver'd the boasting•giant's pride.
He who the prophet nurtured long,
In the desert by ravens, fed,
Will make your sinewy arms full strong,
And at length to victory lead.
Huntington, Indiana, Hay 28th.
Visions of Coming Glory.
It is a great comfort to the dying saint,
when passing 'through , the pangs ;ot disso
lution, that he is sustained by visions- and
foretastes of coming glory. Stephen thought
not of his gaping wounds . or his broken
limbs when Jesus appeared looking down
on him from heaven, and waiting to receive
hina. The biographies of eminent Chris
tians give glowing accounts of the peace of
their last hours.
For them all is bright, because they are
going to be with Him Whom their soul lov
eth. "I am going to him," said Dr. Owen,
"whom my soul has loved, or rather who
has loved me with an everlasting love,
which ltrate -- milc - grounii-of-roil- nt . 7--acrotra
tion."
When Mr. Payne said to him, : 4 " Doctor,
I have just been putting your book on
' The Glory of Christ' to the press," he an
swered,
" I am glad to hear it; but 0, Bro.
Payne, the long-looked-for day is come at
last, in which 'I shall see that glory in ano
ther manner than I have ever done pet; or
was capable of doing in this world." What
a death was that which was only a going
forth to One whom the soul loveth I
" I desire to depart and to be with Christ,
which is far better," said the Rev. John
Brown, of Haddington, " and though I
have lived sixty years very coMfortably in
the world, yet I would turn my back Upon
you all to be with Christ. 0, commend
Jesus; there is none like Christ, none like
Christ. I have been looking at him these
many years, and never yet could find a fault
in him but was of my own making, though
he has seen ten thousand faults in me.
Many a comely person have I seen, but
none so comely as Christ. lam weak, but
it is delightful to find one's. self in the ev
erlasting arms. 0, what must Re be in
himself, when it is he.that sweetens heaven,
sweetens Scripture, sweetens ordinances,
sweetens earth, sweetens. trials IP
When Rowland Hill was dying, all his
thoughts were centred on beholding the
person of his Lord and being where he was.
"I do believe," said the"-dying Mall,
" that for the first ten thousand years lifter
we enter the kingdom of glory., it will be
all surprise."
"But will this surprise never end ?"
"Never, while we beholii. the person of
our Lord."
"You are going to be with Jesus; and
see him as he is," said a friend.
" Yes I", replied Mr. Hill, with empbasis,
",and I shall be like him;that is the
crowning point!!
Gen. Rice to his Mother.
The following is an extract from the
last letter written by. Gen. James C. Rice,
just before the
battles' in the Virginia
Wilderness, in one of which he lost his
life, to his aged mother, who litres in
Worthington
We are about to commence the cam
paign, the greatest in magnitude,' strength
and importance since the beginning of the
war. God grant that victory may crown
our arms; - that this wicked -rebellion may
be crushed, our Union preserved, and peace
and prosperity%gain be restored to our be
love,d country.. My faith and hope and
confidence are in God alone, and I know
that you feel the same. I trust that God
may again graciously spare my life, as he
has in the past, and yet one cannot fall too
early if, loving Christ, he dies for his coun
try. My entire hope is in the cross of my
Saviour. In this hope lam always happy.
We pray here in the army, mother, just
the same as at home. The same Got who
watches over you, also guards me. I always
remember you, mother, in my prayers, and
I know you - never forget me in yours. All
that I am, under God, I owe to you, my
dear mother. Do you recollect this pas
sage in the Bible : " Thou shalt keep there
fore the statutes, that it may go' well with
thee and thy children after thee."- How
true this is in respect to .your children,
mother. I hope you' willread the Bible
and trust the promises to the last. There
is no book like the Bible for comfort. It
'is a' guide to - the steps of the young—a
staff to the aged.
' Well, my dear mother, good-by. We
are going again to do our duty, to bravely
offer up our life for that of the, country,
And " throigh God we shall do valiantly."
With much love and many prayers that,
whatever may betide us, we may meet in.
heaven at last; I ant . your very affectionate
son. . - - JAMES.
THE PRESBYTERIAN BANNER.
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AR Aged Lover.
No longer a lover! exclaim( i t. , 71 a g ed
patriarch; ah !. you nth; In.( you
think age has blotted heart.
Though silver hair falls over a brow all
wrinkled, and a cheek all furrowed, yet I
am a lover still. I love the beauty of the
maiden's blush, the soft tint of flowers, the
singing of birds, and above all, the silvery
laugh of a child. I love the star-like
meadows, where the buttercups grow, with
almost the same enthusiasm as when, with
ringlets flying loose in the wind, years ago,
I chased the painted butterfly. I love yon
aged dame. Look at her. Her face is
careworn, but it has ever held a smile for
me. Often have I shared the same bitter
cup with her, and so shared, it seemed al
most sweet. Years of sickness have stolen
the freshness of life ; but like the faded
rose, the perfume of her love is richer than
when in the full bloom of youth and ma
turity. Together we have wept over the
grave. Through sunshine and storm we
have clung together; and now she sits
with her knitting, her cap quaintly frilled,
the old style kerchief crossed, white and
prim, above the heart that beat so long and
truly for me, the dim blue eyes that shrink
ingly front the glad day, the sunlight,
throwing a parting farewell, kisses her
brow, and leaves upon its faint tracery of
wrinkles angelic radience. I see, though
no one else can, the bright, glad young face
that won me first, and the glowing love of
forty years thrills -through my heart till
tears come. Say not again I can no longer
be a lover. Though this form be bowed,
God imparted eternal life within. Let the
ear be deaf, the eye blind, the hands pal
sied, the limbs withered, the brain clouded,
yet the heart, the true heart, may hold such
wealth of love that all the powers of death
and the victorious grave shall not be able
to put out its quenchless flame.
.Blisseduess of the Faithful.
Blessed for ever and ever be that mother's
child whose faith hath made him the child
of God ! The earth may shake, the pillars
of the earth may tremble under us ; the
countenance of the heavens may be ap
palled; the sun may lose his light, the moon
her beauty, the stars their glory; but con
cerning the man that trusted in God, if
the fire have proclaimed itself unable as
much as to singe a hair of his head ; if
lions, beasts, ravenous by nature, and keen
with hunger, being set to devour, have, as
it were, religiously adored the very flesh of
the faithful man ; what is there in tho
world that shall change his heart, overthrow
his4ith, alter his affection toward God, or
the affection of God to him ? If I be of
this note, who shall make a separation be
tween me and my God ? Shall tribulation,
or anguish, or persecution, or famine, or
nakedness, or peril, or sword? No; lam
persuaded that neither tribulation, nor an
guish, nor persecution, nor famine, nor na
kedness, nor peril, nor sword, nor death,
nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor
powers, nor things present, nor things to
come, nor height, nor any - other creature,
shall ever so-far prevail over me. I know
whom I have believed; I ant not ignorant
whose precious blood has been shed for
me ; I have. a Shepherd fall of kindness,
fall of care, and full of power ; unto him
I commit myself; his own finger hath en
graven this sentence in the tables of my
heart, ". Satan hatkilegivo4l-t. winnnw thee
as - wirert --- tinv - i-have prayed that thy faith
fail not?' Therefore the assurance of' my
hope I will labor to keep as a jewel, unto
the end; and by labor, through the gra
cious mediation of prayer, I shall keep it.
--Hooker.
Jesus Only.
We are too prone to send the unconvert-
ed to a prayer-meeting,, or to reading good
books, or to listening to some popular Boa
nerges. The experiences of' many a troub
led inquirer have been somewhat like those
of the woman to whom a faithful minister
once said :
" Have you been in the habit of attend
ing church ?"
" Yes - , I have been to every church in
town; but the little comfort I get soon
goes away again, and leaves me as bad as
before!'
" Do you read the Bible at homer
" Sir, I am always reading the Bible;
sometimes I get a little comfort, but it soon
leaves me as wretched as ever."
"Have you prayed for peace ?"
"Oh ! sir, lam praying-all the day long
sometimes I get a little peace after pray
ing, but I soon lose it. lam a miserable
woman."
" Now, madam, when you went to church,
or prayed, or read your Bible, did you rely
on these means to give you comfort ?"
" I think I did."
" To wh,out.did you pray ?"
"To God, sir; to whom else should I
pray?"
" Now, read this verse. 4 Come unto me
and I will give you rest.' Jesus said this.
Have you gone to Jesus for rest ?"
The lady looked amazed, and tears welled
up into her eyes. Light burst in upon her
heart like unto the light that flooded Mount
Tabor on the transfiguration morn. Ev
erything else that she had been looking at
—church, Bible, mercy seat, and minister
—all disappeared, and to her wondering,
believing eyes there remained no man save
Jesus only. She was liberated from years
of bondage on the spot. The scales fell
from her eyes, and the spiritual fetters
from her soul. Jesus only could do that
work of deliverenee ; but he did not do it
until she looked to him alone.
Shade Essential
It is recorded of Queen Elizabeth, thy,
ignorant of the laws of painting, she com
manded her portrait to be taken without a
shadow upon the canvas. With an ignor
ance of the laws of moral painting equally
as profound, and infinitely more serious,
how often would we havo obliterated from
our history those sombre pencilings of life's
picture—the dark background and blended
shadows—which the Divine Artist knew to
be essential to the fidelity, harmony, and
perfection of the whole ! We would have
life without its moral discipline. We
would efface from the portrait all the shad
ings of sorrow and sickness, suffering, pov
erty, and bereavement; leaving nothing
but the bright and sunny hues of mimic.-
gled, unclouded happiness.
But when we gaze upon the carvings,
the paintings, and frescoes of our whole
life, each epoch, event, and incident--
the lights and shadows beautifully and
exquisitely blended—we shall then see the
infinite rectitude of our heavenly Father in
all, his present dealings with us, both of
sorrow and of joy. With what vivid
ness shall we then see the necessity, as
much for:the cold, dark pencilings, as for
-the warm, roseate tints of the picture; and
for both the lights and shadows, the joys
and sorrows of life, we shall laud and adore
his great and glorious name.— Winslow.
God only earriea his people when they
can not walk; he vities, our weakness, bet
not our sloth.