nn
PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY A COMMITTEE OF MINISTERS FOR THE METHODIST EPIS COPAL CHURCH, SOUTH. RUFUS T. HEFLIN, Editor.
VOL. IVNO. 5.
RALEIGH, THURSDAY ,r.F EBRUARY 3, 1859.
0 I.l
S T
ORIGINAL
zr
For the X. C. Christian Advocate. j hope SO. If Slich be the case, what hin-
Tlieolojrit :l Polities. ! ers us frm having a great and glorious
revival of religion, this year, throughout
I propose to say a few things hearing on all the circuits and stations in the North
the condition and prospects of the Mctho- Carolina Conference ?
dist Church in North Carolina. I shall j W hindering causes threaten, let us rise
quote without usinr the marts, think with- ! above every opposition, and labor as
out caring who differs, and state principles j preachers and people for universal holiness
without asViug who may approve. Every j throughout the church of God.
effort or enterprise, requiring the united tno circuit is not as the preacher de
ability and effort of any considerable nuiu- j s'ires, let him labor to make it such. If
) er of persons, in order to success, must' j tne preacher is not as the people desire,
u.... .. M,tu i.W v -ih.K"'xl -I ? tiiTn t.a'4.; hold of h:. Jiands sm? bold
pie; and this fundamental when develop- j them up, r.uile he labors to preach to them
ed and applied, must coincide with the I tue Gospel.
conditions of the age and nation. If this Thus, by striving to build up the waste
leading principle is of such a character, j places and to lead the lame, the broken in
that it cannot be applied but to one gene- ! lloart becomes healed and the weak is made
ration, the close of that generation will j strong ; so that the Church will rise tri
eud the utility of the action in question, umphant over every opposition, and make
Symbolic Mythology was the central idea
of the old Egyptian civilization; applied to
the land of the Nile, it resulted in the
pyramids, the catacombs, obelisks and
popular degradation of that Empire. The
same principle transported to Greece, was
there applied to expressions of the beauti- j
ful ; but having produced one generation of j
poets, orators, sculptors and philosophers, j
it fell and carried the people with it. All j
history will attest that whatever is lasting, j
must be capable of a development suitable j
l" auu luu auu "
creed, systein or philosophy, when fairly
construed on its own character, is incapable
of these two conditions, lime and country,
that creed or system will be temporary.
Methodism in doctrine and discipline, is
a Theological system, purporting to be a
Bible interpretation of faith and practice,
suitable for all classes of society in a Sov
reign Southern State. Now, if this sys
tem is what it professes to be, it will, when
developed, applied and obeyed, produce
good citizens in every sense, good mem
bers of social life, and good christians;
and if in any of these there is a failure,
there is either defect in the Methodist
formula, or an incorrect develomnent as to
a
aye and country. If it be said, the creed
an 11 r'J.' uli- 1,10 j
reply is, that when a people voluntarily j
embrace a coTsst'tiition
.Jo-
gicai. ana tuen negiect u, sucn iwaia- ,
tion however good in itself, is not adapted I
to that people. Order is essential to a
State, but the adoption of a republican
. - 1 .
constitution by Mexico, would not produce j
, .. f. , , x,
ff'jod citizenship, unless tne peoiile are i
1 1 l
suited to that development of the political j
formula. It also sometimes happens that
a State continues to exist under a well re
ceived political polity. The existence be
ing really artificial and sustained only by
positive furce. This likewise proves a
constitution deffeieut in adaptation. In
the Methodist polity, salvation by faith, and
an itinerancy, seem to be the fundamental
ideas ; all the other principles being neces
sary conditions for the application of the
fundamentals, or collaterals entirely oc
cordant with the primaries Xow these
leading principles in the hands of Mr.
Wesley, were capable of founding quite a
number of problems. He might have
said, given salvation by faith, itinerancy
and the British noblemen, to make them
christians? Or he might have substituted
"Gentlemen,'' or " Yeomanry," or "Poor
laborers." Actually, the problem was,
"faith, itineracy, masses;" the sought was
" Christians," the the thing to be saved
was "how shall thc application be made ?"
This problem in the hands of the great
Methodist Statesman was quickly solved;
no man ever saw the essentials of a ques
tion more clearly, or applied the appropri
ate means more wisely. lie wanted zeal
ous preachers full of the Holy Ghost (no
special necessity for learning or polite ac
complishments) ; places appropriate to hear
in the open air (stands); houses to preach
iu (meetiiig-hou.seffj; some men to pray in
public, admonish, advise, in the absence
of the preacher (class-leaders) ; men to
care for the poor, look after the stands and
meeting-houses, and obtain what any were
willing to give the preacher -(stewards).
This was about the development of the for
mula requisite at the time ; a greater
would have been inapplicable ; a less in
efficient. Now I think the Methodist poli
ty is capable of a development suitable to
all ages and nations, (lay delegation being
repugnant to the original constitution, can
never come into the development, ) but Mr.
Wesley extended it only to suit his times ;
hence many of the sayings and doings of
that great man, were antiquated even be
fore their author passed away. Steaia is
the same everywhere, but the intensity,
amount and applying machinery appropri
ate, will vary with the locality and inten
tion. EPW011TII.
For the N. C. Christian Advocate.
Preachers and People.
'x preachers, we hope, have all reach
ed their -r'sointedtteM 0f labor with hearts
warm with zc. f0r the u...j, (if q0(j
Are the preacheil satisfied v-4j.0;r
homes ? We hope so. Are the pco-
pie satisfied with their preacher ? We
rapid steps toward the haven of eternal
blessedness.
Brethren, let us go to work.
T.
For the N. C. Christian Advocate.
Exegesis.
" And the hey of the lions'! of David will
I lay itmil his shoulder : so he thallopen
and none shall shut ; and he shall shut
and none shall open." Isaiah, xxn. 22.
The whole of this chapter is a prophecy,
: airainst Jerusalem in -eneral &c. v,14,and
j tWlfter agaillst Shebna in particular, as
j the representative of the whole people. It
: is predicted that he will be cast from his
j place and Eiiakim substituted, that upon
! Eiiakim shall be bestowed the symbols of
i power, authority, and office. In the verse
' immediately preceeding we are told that
1 the official robe and girdle are to be be
; stowed upon Eiiakim. In this verse, that
j the key of the house is to be laid upon his
shoulder. The key has been a symbol of
! office and authority in almost all ages
; and amongst almost all people,
j The door among the Hebrews were val-
ves, suspended on wooden pivots which
I were inserted in sockets in the door-posts.
The lock was a wooden slide, so attached
to the door that by means of one or two
str;nrs passin thro-h the door ,
V
1 , -.11
til
whore it was ,0 fa.stened auioll tlie
tefcth or catdl as not to be drawn back,
Thc onc coming m who wished to unlockf
i i i , . . ., , ,
had a wooden key, sufficiently larsre. and
? j i 1 1 tt ,i , 'T, ,
crooked like a sr h ie. He thurst the kev
, . e.x . , , ,
tliroucru tlie orifice ottfie dotir. or tcv-hnlo
i.-ai" ,i .mi. A , - , -,
lifted up the slide so as to extricate it from
the catchets, and taking hold of the other
string drew it back, and thus entered."
Johns Bib. Arch. The keys of the rich
were of metal. Under the Hebrew mon
archy the key was given to the steward or
chamhlain, as the badge of Ids of
fice. The size and weight of the earlier
keys would necessarily lead to that mode
of bearing them which would be easiest,
and the form, that of a sickle, enabled the
bearer to to carry it on his shoulder. Al
though this was the case in earliest times
it is not necessary to suppose that in the
days of Eiiakim, the steward of the house
hold literally bore such a key. The fig
ure of the key may or may not have been
embroidered on the robe, across the shoul
der, as symbolical. But even that is an
unnecessary supposition. It is to be no
ticed that the word translated 'shoulder,'
signifies the whole upper burden bearing
part of the back.
The interpretation here seems to be that
the administration of the government is
represented by a burden, and that burden
is a key, so that the ideas of responsibility
and power are conveyed at once. In Matt,
xvi, 19, Christ applies the same form of
expression to Peter, implying that to the
Apostles, ho gave authority and upon them
he laid the responsibility of administering
the affairs of the Church. In Kev. in 7,
Christ is spoken of as "he that hath the
key of David, he that openeth and no man
shutteth, and shutteth and no man open
eth." For the N. C. Christian Advocate.
Memorials or Methodism.
Buo. IIeflix : Near the close of the
session in Newborn, something was said
and done privately in regard to a Metho
dist Historical Society. It is presumed
that the committee on Education, who
promised and were expected to report on
it, were so pressed for time that they could
not give it attention. I have no doubt
that it will be instituted at the next ses
sion But there are few subjects on which
delay is more unreasonable or may prove
more unfortunate.
Several sister Conferences have seen the
necessity of immediate effort and have
promptly organized those societies. Tne
importance of the matter is by no means
less in our own State than in those which
have .set us the example. The history of
the introduction and promotion of Metho
dism in North Carolina is full of thrilling
interest. There are scenes in our tnoun
ain coves and eastern plains notable for
moral conflict and heroic endurance with
no mark of remembrance no name in his
tory. We, the descendants of those pio
neer fathers, walk unconsciously over
places hallowed by the prayers, the toils,
the sacrifices and sufferings which were
theirs when they sowed the harvest we are
reaping.
My attention was drawn more directly
to this matter by the interesting lecture of
Prof. Shipp before the Historical Society
of the S. C. Conference at its late session.
i His investigation was confined to that
j portion of oor State which has been or is
now iu the bi unris of the S. C. Conference.
I hope it wid be published, for it is a per
formance of great interest, merit and his
toric value. Similar compilations of facts,
incidents, &c., covering our entire territo
ry would be invaluable. Any onc reading
the simple, yet eloquent details will feel
and confess their power. If we take hold
of them, they electrify us. We need an
acquaintance with those bold, true pilgrim
fathers, to cure us of our backslidings in
courage and devotion.
The misfortune of our delay will be con
fessed, when memory calls up the la
mented dead, who could have told us
what we now shall never learn on earth.
To meet as far as possible the object de
sired, I propose that each of the preachers
interest himself to gather all the informa
tion about early Methodism that he can,
from the older members and persons in his
charge. Let him then keep it till Confer
ence, or send it to the Advocate. Each
one will thus do a great service and re
ceive at the same time an abundant re
ward. I would also urge upon those who know
the facts of our church history in their scc-
j tions and feel an interest in the subject, to
write detailed sketches and hand them to
their pastors or scud them to the Advocate.
You cannot have more entertaining and
valuable contributions.
Very truly yours,
A. W. 31.
Chapel Hill, N. C.
SELECTIONS.
From the Home Journal.
Tale of tlie South.
I1Y A SOUTHERN MAN.
THE MAKTVU MINISTERS.
It was summer in the South. Tlie rays
of an almost vertical sun kindled the air
into the torrid glow of the tropics. Long,
hot days, short, sultry nights, frequent
showers and easterly winds, were ominous
harbingers of disease and deatli in localities
most exposed to their influence. Men of
medical lore, guided by science and oft
repeated experience, saw, in the conjunc
tion of these causes, the sure forerunner
of the most fell destroyer of southern lati
tudes, and predicted the advent of yellow
fever, of malignant type and deadly pow
er, in its accustomed haunts.
Speedily was the prophecy fulfilled. The
black vomito descended simultaneously upon
several cities in the South, and raged with
a fatality and fierceness almost unparallel
ed in the history of the disease. The liv
ing fleeing to distant places for safety, or
cowering with fear at home the constant
spectators of thc death of friends and re
lations, and in hourly expectation of a
fatal assault by the disease themselves ;
the dying, abandoned ofttimes by all save
the physician and the nurse ; the dead, too
numerous for orderly sepulture, hurried
off, uncofEned and unattended by funeral
train or dirge, to hasty burial in common
graves ; the hearse ever on the street, ac
companied by the call of the driver for
patronage at the houses of the wealthy ; the
significant crape upon numberless doors ;
silence in the thoroughfares of trade, busi
ness deserted, slu.ps and all houses of
traffic closed ; gloom, desertion, and dread
everywhere these concomitants of the
epidemic, seen always, in some degree,
where it prevails, appeared now with a
frequency and universality that appalled
all hearts, and made the year 1853 memo
rable among all the years of yellow fever
visitation at the South.
Over one fair city of the South, in par
ticular, the wing of the destroying ansel
brooded with the fierceness of the avenger
that smote the first-born of the land of
Pharaoh. There the pestilence literally
wasted at noonday, and walked in dark
ness. Medical skill availed neither to ar
rest the spread of the disease, nor to cure
the infected. All who could, left the city.
Thousands, however, remained, through
the compulsion of business or the strin
gency of controling circumstances. Into
the ranks of these the epidemic spread with
but little discrimination between the accli
mated and the unacclimated portions. -Young
and old, male and female, bond and
free, went down together in the wild mael
strom of the pestilence. Soon, in almost
every house there were vacant seats at the
hearth-stone, and wailings for the unre
turning dead. In some instances whole
I
families perished ; childj-en wept for par
,.onts ruoiirned for children. Few
lL Lk3, Jjttl ViiKU i
were the footfalls, save
iose of the physi
hcard upon the
evelry and mirth
roan of the sick,
cian and the hearseman
streets. The sounds of
were supplanted by the i
.. . " , v.
the wail of the bereaved, rnd the prayer of
the minister as he consojl d - the dying, or
closed the rayless eyes,''id the mute lips
of the dead, . The beahtiful city of the
G ulf stood, like Niobe old, speechless
in her woe. Her busia departed, and
hundreds of her sons and -laughters passed
away to be seen no moit-po-i her streets
or'u the h.CJiuilor&'-d'! 1 '
Mournful, indeed, and sadleLing almost
to tears, would be the record which should
attempt to chronicle even a tithe of the
touching incidents and pathetic details of
the pestilence. Tlie presence of an epide
mic, in dense coniQiunities, always brings
out, in bold relief ind in vivid contrast, the
noblest and the meanest traits, the bright
est and the darkest features, of humanity.
In this smitten citj of the South, as is the
case everywhere in the midst of such a
visitation, appeared ministering angels and
incarnate fieuds die parsimony of hopeful
avarice, and the prodigality of blank de
spair the beastly revel of insensate vice,
in its accustomed haunts, and the low voice
of supplication and prayer in pulpit and
closet ; in a word, all the contrasts which
human passion and human character call
forth to pain or to gladden the moral vision
of the beholder.
The clergy of the various religious de
nominations, true to their high office, re
mained in the city, and dispensed the min
istries and consolation of religion to all who
needed or asked their aid. To the accli
mated, the mission, beautiful and holy as
it is, was comparatively free from peril.
They wore charmed lives, but are entitled,
nevertheless, to the full credit of duty no
bly performed under the most appalling
circumstances, inviting to its abandonment.
But the unacclimated, who remained, con
fronted by the almost assured certainty of
death who visited the dying and perform
ed thc burial service for the dead, only to
contract the infection and die themselves
deserve the meed of praise for a courage
higher than that oft the battlefield, and
their deaths vV'-ioral f -sublimity the
martyrdoms ot otu.
The ministrations of both classes, how
ever, furnish a striking illustration of the
elevating and sustaining power of the relig
ious sentiment. The courage which braves
the perils of battle delineated so often in
the poet's lay and the orator's eulogium, as
the highest exhibition of human bravery
sinks almost into cowardice when compar
ed with the moral heroism inspired by re
ligion, and exhibited by its ministers in
their labors of love amid the horrors of
pestilence. The soldier, fired by the con
tagious courage of numbers, and dulled to
insensibility by thc rigor of military disci
pline, the brutalizing effects of his pro
fession, or the madness of real or simulat
ed passion, encounters the dangers of war's
direst spectacle with mute indifference, and
little recks, in the fulness of his pride and
strength, whether he survive or perish in
the conflict. But he who wars with pesti
lence, battles with an invisible foe. He
has nothing but his own sense of duty, and
his high trust in God, to sustain him.
The hot blood which fires the courage and
inspires the deeds of the soldier, is not his
to animate and sustain him, for his foe
floats viewless on the wings of the air, and
enters the citadel of life through the in
spirations which impart health and nour
ishment to its vital currents. Pestilence
is not a brave enemy that storms by open
violence the fortress of existence, but an
insidious coward that steals, silent and in
visible, upon its victim. It conducts a
siege in which no quarter is given, no
terms offered to the vanquished, and the
flag of capitulation which floats over its
close is the sable prtni55-Af thc hearse, or
the mournful draperies of the dead. Who
will say that the courage which grapples
with a foe like this, is not of nobler mould
than that of the heroes of battle and of
song ? Around are the dying and the dead
the one needing prayers, and the other
sepulture. Universal panic prevails among
the living. Business has ceased. The
pulpits are silent, for the worshippers dread
the effect of contact in masses. On every
countenance is gloom, and in every heart
is sadness. The wail of the bereaved, the
groans of the dying, the blasphemy of the
impious and the prayers of the pious, go
up in blended chorus from the smitten city
below to the unpitying heavens above.
In the midst of the scene of desolation
and despair, the ministers of religion move
and act. The living are admonished, the
dying consoled, the bereaved comforted,
and the burial service pronounced over the
dead. With a mission and labors like
these, no human vocation can be fitly com
pared, and the courage which impels to
the one, and sustains unid the perils of the
other, is the noblest tlat man exhibits, and
the highest that Hea-en bestows.
. Three examples of this martyr heroism
inspired by religion, occurred during the
memorable epidemic, of 1853, in the ill
fated city of the South to which reference
is intended in the preceding remarks. A
brief allusion to each must close this tale.
The epidemic has reached its maximum
of malignity and fatality. In a room fitted
up with all the appliances of a scholar's
study, upon a low bed or cot, a young man
lies, smitten with the prevailing fever.
He is apparently not more than tweny
two or three years of age. The person is
tall and slender, the forehead ample, and
the eyes, until dimmed by illness, b amed
-il il 4-.-..1 j .p 1 . 1 .
wi-.c lu-tr'if ot a ,Kjno, vrenciyi .- in
telligent spirit. He has passed through
the last great agony of his disease, r nd the
glazing eye and fluttering pulse tell that
hLs end draws rapidly " nigh. Beside him
sits his spiritual adviser. The physician
has made his last visit, saw the fatal sym
ptom of invitable death, and left him for
more hopeful patients. The faithful nurse
is with him still. The deep hush in the
room, broken only by the low breathing of
the invalid, betokens the chamber of ap
proaching death. As the sublime transfi
guration from mortal to immortal goes on,
let us step softly into the room, and inquire
who and what the meek sufferer is.
He was born beneath the bright skies
and amid the balmy airs of a salubrious
southern clime. Surrounded by the pleas
ant sights and sounds of a ruraljhome, he
grew up, in loving communion with nature
and books, and congenial associates, into
genial, hopeful and not very robust man
hood. His heart was the home of every
noble emotion, and his head a fountain of
beautiful thought. He was 'blessed alike
in his moral aptitudes and his intellectual
capabilities. He was, in fact, a man of
talents, and became, by assiduous culture,
as learned as he was gifted and pure.
The bias of his faculties led him natural
ly into the pulpit. Blessed with a head
and heart which qualified him for its du
ties, he entered upon his holy office with
zeal and the promise of a lengthened ca
reer of usefulness. By the allotment of
the ecclesiastical authority to which he was
subject, he was stationed the first year of
his ministry, in the Gulf city of the South.
There he labored "'. faithfully, successfully
and most acceptably to his church, for
several months. Y hen tne storm of the
epidemic came down upon the devoted city,
friends abroad and counsellors at home
advised him to quit his charge and retire,
for a season, to a place of safety. He
prayerfully considered, but conscientiously
rejected, their advice. He was at the post
of duty. Providence had environed him
with peril, and could, if best for himself
and others, deliver him in the very midst
of thc pestilence.
Thus comforted by his faith, and sus
tained by the consciousness that he was en
gaged in the performance of what he be
lieved to be his dmy-, he devoted himself,
night and day, to the labors and perils of
his sacred calling. He preached to the
well, he visited the sick, praj-ed for the dy
ing, and read the burial service of his
church at the grave of the dead. Univer
sally popular, and admired by all for the
heroism of his spirit and conduct, ho was
incessantly summoned, hither and thither,
into all parts of thc city. He went wher
ever called, and did good deeds and utter
ed good words wherever he went.
But in the midst of his labors and use
fulness, he contracted the disease himself,
and lies now in his study, rapidly succum
bing to its power. He utters no complaint.
Audible prayer and snatches of spiritual
songs burst occasionally, in feeble accents,
from his lips. He is far from kindred and
early friends. No voice or presence of
parent, or brother, or sister, soothes his
departing spirit. And yet all is well with
him. He goes down into the shadow of
the dark valley, but not fearfully, or alone.
The silver cord of life is gently loosened,
oymphonies from choral bands, """Unheard
by ears of flesh, fill the chamber. A sweet
smile passes over the face of the sufferer,
and the first of the martyr ministers is at
rest.
In the same city, and during the same
epidemic, another scene invites the recor
ding pen of the chronicler. A beautiful
woman, young and sorrowful, bends over
the couch of a dying man, and wipes the
gathering dews of death from his brow.
He, too, is gifted in mind and noble in
heart. Though small in stature, he has
the marked forehead and beaming eye that
belong to the sons of genius. His early
advantages have been great. No oppor
tunity which wealth could command, or
the solicitude of fond parents could devise,
to develop him into robust manhood of
mind and heart, has been wanting. As
all his aptitudes, both moral and intellec
tual, wTcre favorable, the result responded
fully to the exertions and care expended
in his behalf. He ripened into manhood,
rich in the graces of the heart, and aboun
ding in all the accomplishments of the
mind. Possessed of a brilliant imagina
tion, a ready and graceful elocution, and
a scholarship high and rare for his age, he
stepped forth into the arena of life, prepar-
ed to contend for its noblest prizes, and
with every prospect of abundant success.
Educated at a military school, he was ori
ginally destined for the profession of arms.
But a work of grace in his heart, co-operating
with an overmastering conviction
that it was his duty to labor for the promo
tion of the spiritual interests of his fellow
men, impelled him to the ministrations of
the pulpit as his calling for life. He had
labored assiduously and successfully in thc
ministry for several years, when the year
of the pestilence found him stationed in the
smitten city of the Gulf. Unacclimated,
J and p liablf ?t anv moment to .ntract the
disease, tne nusDanu oi a lovely woman,
and the father of several small children,
has life was deemed too valuable to them
and to the world to be perilled amid the
epidemic, and he was importunately urged
to flee from the city. But his sense of
duty forbid the flight. His high courage
and unwavering trust in the wisdom and
goodness of Providence, resigned him even
to the martyrdom of untimely death, if
that, indeed, were the ordination of his lot.
He felt, it is true, as a father, and loved
devotedly as a husband ; but a sense of ob
ligation higher than any that human affec
tion can impose, bade him remain at his
post, and he heeded what he deemed its
divine admonition.
In the midst of incessant ministries at
the bedside and at the grave, he fell sick
of the pestilence himself, and lay down to
die. As he had borne hiinsolf meekly in
his high office, and kept his record clear,
he was ready and, if such were the will of
Heaven, not unwilling to depart. Sur
rounded by wife, children and friends, sus
tained by an unfaltering faith, and bowing
in peace to the inevitable summons, he
passed unmurmuringly to the dreamless
rest of mortality, and thc second of the
martyr ministers was numbered with the
dead.
One instance more, and the mournful
recital ends. When the epidemic was at
its height, and the gloom over the city had
deepened almost to the blackness of de
spair, a mildlooking, middle-aged man,
with kindling eye and glowing counte
nance, might have heed seen, passing from
house to house, and from street to street,
bearing the messages and the consolations
of r'eiigiuii, and the lieeued aid of a" nurs
ing hand, into the dreariest haunts of the
pestilence. He fears not, for he knows
that good angels tent round about all who
tread in the path of duty. Thc alert and
vigorous intellect, the generous heart, the
high culture of letters, eloquence, exalted
piety and burning zeal in all the offices of
his holy vocation all these are his, and,
with deliberate choice, he lays them all as
a sacrifice upon the altar of duty. On the
field of his benignant labors he is smitten
by the shaft of the pestilence, and goes
down, amid the tears and unavailing pray
ers of all who knew him, to the silent em
brace of the tomb.
In onc of the cemeteries of the city of
Mobile, there arc three graves of nearly
equal age. Side by side their little hil
locks rise, a triple brotherhood, in that
multitudinous city of the dead. In these
lie the mortal remains of three Methodist
preachers. As in lives, labors and martyr
dom, they were united, so in their sepul
ture they have not been divided. A chaste
monument, erected by the joint contribu
tions of the church and of the citizens of
Mobile, bears, inscribed upon its marble
pillars, thc names of Hughes, Starr and
Powell the three martyr ministers of our
tale. Life's fitful fever over, they sleep
well together in the covert, where neither
the breath of the pestilence nor the waill
of its victims can come. Peace be to their
ashes, and green evermore, in the sunny
land of their birth, be the memory of their
virtues, their Christian lives, and their
heroic deaths. J. W. T.
"PVirmor .Tnnfs w.nsi nni mornin Khan- I
ding near the wayside, in a small field
connected with his farm, which, to the
passer-by, had all the appearance of great
barreness, when Parson Anderson, coming
up on horse back, exchanged salutions with
the farmer.
" Busy, I see, with your farming opera
tions, this bright morning," said the par
son.
" Not very busy at this moment," said
Mr. Jones; " I am bothered to know what
to do with this patch of ground, which has
never brought me a dollar."
"Yes, I see," replied Mr. Anderson,
"it does not look very promising, but the
good seed that has been sown there, must,
I suppose sooner or later, come up."
' ' Good seed sown there ! why, no seed
has been sown that I know offer five years
past, and as it did not come up at the usu
al time, when it was sown, it would be a
strange thing to expect it to appear now.
We farmers do not look for crops five years
after date," said Mr. Jones, laughing.
"Ah ! I see," said the parson, " I am
rather ignorant about these matters ; but I
was told that you had a field in which, you
say, good seed was planted ten years ago,
$1.50 a year, in advance.
and yet the neighbors say you are yet look
ing for the harvest, although as yet there
is no appearance of ' blade, ear, or full
corn in the car.' "
" You were told? Mr. Anderson; and
pray who told you that I was euch a fool
as that? When I plant, I expect growth
the first season, and, if it fails then, I plant
again. Who ever heard of good need
growing, after it had been lying ten years
dead in the ground ?"
"Well, I must confess," and Mr. An
derson, ' what you say appears reasonable ;
'ut as good Elder Thomas told me, I
1 f . T .11 i!. It IT, n.tol.f
i i flOUrOU 1 'VOUlU men mm ii. ' nni.w
? : J had "dome other meaning. It73t
perhaps you can, find it out. Good inor
nmg, sir ; I must go ou my way."
Farmer Jones stood pondering for a good
while, when a thought flashed across his
mind which he fouud very difficult to get
rid of. The truth was, that, ten years be
fore, Farmer Jones professed to le convert
ed, and had joined the Church. From that
time until thc time of the akvc interview,
none had been able to sec in him the growth
of the good seed. He had, indeed, lecn
pretty regular in attending church, al
though he confessed that sitting still in his
pew always made him feel drowsy, tu that
he did not very well know what thc min
ister was talking about. It was observed,
too, that Mr. Jones seldom had nnychango
about him, when collections were made up
for religious purposes, and although rrry
mil tu do in the world, his contribution
for the minister's supjxirt was very small.
He could never see the good of prayer
meetings and Sundaj'-schcxds, and mission.",
and such like things. He considered
money spent in subscribing fr a religious
newspaper was so much thrown away. If
he observed family worship, no one ever
found it out; and, if he prayed at all, he
must have done it very secretly. No one
had heard him instructing his pons and
daughters, or urging ujhiii them the im
portance of attending to the concerns of
their souls. They were accordingly grow
ins ui) withtout the fear of God. Indeed,
his was a very irreligious family, not one
particle better than if their father had
never joined thc Church. He was, how
ever, a very active man, and could go
about anything in which he was interested,
v.'ih u rifiht good will, and a t.trorghau .
He believed the Scriptures, at least so far
as this, that he knew "that the hand of
the diligent maketh rich," and he was
every year becoming richer, because he
worked for it. lie never looked for a crop
w here he had not sown seed, and he was
not the fool to wait ten years for a harvest!
While now he stood on his barren patch,
th words of Parson Anderson worried
him, and one thought followed another ho
quickly and painfully, that he could not
avoid thc conclusion that his own irreligi
ous and unproductive life was thc thing
alluded to by thc parson. lie did not
sleep easy that night. He began to view
things in another light, and the result was,
as we hear, that good seed was then sown
in his heart, which was watered by tho
dews of heaven, and it sprouted at once,
and Farmer Jones became a new man, and
his family a very different family.
"Webster's Courting.
Daniel Webster married thc woman ho
loved, and the twenty years which he liv
ed with her brought hira to the meridian
of his greatness. An anecdote is current
on this subject, which is not recorded in
the books. Mr. Webster was becoming
intimate with Miss Graco Fletcher, when
a skein of silk, which he held for ber to
wind, was getting into a knot, Mr. Web
ster assisted in unravelling tho snarl
then looking up to Miss Grace, ho 6aid.
" We have untied a knot, don't you think
we could tie one V Grace was a little em
barrassed, said not a word, but in the courso
of a i( w minutes she tied a knot in apiece
x faa1iJTs3itT to' MrTt.
ot tape anu
piece of tape, the thread of his domestic
joys, was found after tho death of Mr.
Webster, preserved as one of his most pre
cious relics.
Results of thc Sepoy Rebellion.
The Kev. Mr. Hcrron, to tho Banner
of the Covenant, enumerates tho following
favorable results :
1. The East India Company has been
cast down, which, professing to rule on the
principle of non-interference with tho re
ligion of the natives, ignored Christianity,
and encouraged idolatry and casto.
2. Mohamedanism has been humbled,
tli6 bitterest enemy of Christ.
3. The public mind has been turned in
favor of missions.
4. The sincerity of native Christians Las
been severely but triumphantly proved.
From these manifest results he infers
" that the things that have happened onto
us have turned out to the furtherance of
the Gospel."
Mikabeau calls Paris a city of high
life, pleasure, and amusement, where half
thc people die broken-hearted.
f
O