“RELIGION WITHOUT BIGOTRY, ZEAL WITHOUT FANATICISM, LIBERTY WITHOUT LICENTIOUSNESS.”
TCI,' ... ■■ f -I — - . . .1.^ , - " - -— .. , — ;.^
VOLTJME XIV. SUFFOLK, VA., APRIL IT, 1857. NUMBER 1
THE CHRISTIAN SUN.
Published every Friday, by the
Southern Christian Association
At $ I 50, annum in advance.
w U. WfiLLONS,
Bditor and Publishing Agent.
E. F. Watson \ _ ,
A. Q Anderson { Corresponding Editors.
G**°noi Council, T. J.Kilbt, 8. 8. BabbKtt,
w. H. Boykin.
Executive Committee,Ai.mm IsttLEY, Solomon
ArpLK, Risop Rawls, K.H. Holland,A LUiu,.
Ail commonicattons must be addressed to
w. B. Wkllons, Suffolk, Va.
Office, on Kilby street, opposite the residence
of the Editor.
a Tip
i. D. BROWN, Piiinte r.
ORIGINAL.
CHANT OF THE DESTROYING
ANGEL.
By M.
11 Maiden I in the blush of mom,
^ With sunny glance and sparkling eye:—
Why that look of ptide an d scorn 1
Know you not that l am nigh t V
But the maiden tossed her ringlets fair,
As they floated in'glee on the fctether air;
And the Angel of Death put lorth his scythe,
And this child of folly ’midpleasure died.
“ Warrior! armed for the fray !
Turn, Oh turn,—list and hear:—
Go uot i'prth to fight to-day
My scythe is keener than thy spear ! ”
But he heeded not the teaming cry,
But poiset. his glittering lance on high ;
And - the Reaper’ catne—and the warrior
fell !
Oh ! where is his spirit 7 who can tell 1
“ Student ! dep'f f^-rhysiic lore,
Diru of eye ainj,p»jle o/'cheek:
Bee my shadow stealing i;o,er—
Ol Heaven alune true knowledge seek."
But the student laughed at the angel’s call,
And plunged moreueep’iu the mystic thrall,
And the shadow came—and life was riven,
And theange! wept as he entered heaven.
‘Miser ! leave your hoarded treasure ;
Afoi'Aand rust will enter there I
Seek yout God whilst you have leisure,
i am near, and must not spare.
But the miser barred 'fof'i"lrt)a-doar,
Aatf ClosotHtis heart ’gainst the starving poor j
And liecounted his gold with niggard care,—
But he who comes but once—caine there.
"Christian ! quit this mortal coil!
You’ve -‘fought the fight"—the battle is
o’er; a
A Savour calls tliee from thy toil,
To LIVE IN BUSS FOR EVER MORE !’
The Christian tneekiy closed,his eyes,
And his spirit was wafteu beyond the skies.
And the angel smiled over victory won,
"Joy I Joy for- ever—my task is done!’’
Norfolk, Va., April 1857.
RELIGIOUS
INTOLERANCE—BIGOTRY. ta
It must be met; and. the time has arri
ved, when tt need^ill (Tie moral heroism,
ail the graces of the Christian character,
to deal with it in such a nfonner as shall
rout it to open sbamo, and veU redound to
fhe honor and advancement fcf the true
Cause of Christ. f
- Error may he exposed and \overcome,
[without drawing on the armory of the
Idevil for weapons with whicjj^w> vanquish
ItPrsjfsr will accQt^^ffsh more in this
KR^fare'K&e^ws^ter. The sword of th«
I spirit, morp than the sword of the tongue,
■ envenomed by strife, aiger and persecu
I tion. O! if all the zeal, and earnestness
Blind learning that is devoted to the pall
ling down and buildiog up of mere seeta
|tarian creeds, were given to the coi^yer
Isioa of a‘world lying in the wicked one,”
Ibow roach more would the cause of Christ
(be built np, how imrob more would it
■tend to that glorious millenial morn for
Iwhieh ail denominations profess so de
voutly to- pray, when “His kingdom
should come, and hie will be done, on
earth, as it is heaven.’
Not until the church exhibits a more
tolerant and charitable spirit will the
[wicked and soornet cease, to reject
■nd insult.her holy teachings,
fe ft. C. Advocate.
The intolerant, fcigoted spirit of secta
rianism, is becoming a power in the land.
It is issuing its edic's and fulminating its
bulls'fiom other uncharitable and tyran
nical thrones than that of the Vatican of
Rome. It must be crushed out by the
law of love and charity, or it will crush
out that ‘‘pure and undefiled Religion
before the Father,” which the great Apos
tle declared to be—“to visit the father
less and the widow in their afflictions
and keep ourselyeg. \nj$potted from tb»
► III * ' . * ' •• <u- .
WO! Id. *
Men and agenjjes, under God, must be
employed to expose and deiioiince and
reprove this baleful enemy to the evan
gelizing the world. It is no child’s play
to grappld with this overshadowing evil.
DREAM OF 1)R. DODDRIDGE. ,
The philosophy of dreams has never yet!
been expounded by psychologist*, though
many theories have been broached to ac
count for different phenomena. In rea
ding lately the Life of Mrs. Rogers, apious
lady of a century ago (be wife of a devoted
Methodist clergyman, we were struck with
the singular importance attached to dreams
by pious people in that day. Even Dr.
Doddridge, with hi* clear intellect and
sterling common sense,seems to have shared
this common tendency. The following is
oue of his dreams Watchman <t Me~
flcctor. <*
The Doctor and my father had been
conversing one evening on the nature cK
the separate state, and the piobability that
the scenes in which the soul would enter,
upon its leaving the body, would bear the
resemblance of those with whiuh it had
been conversant while on earth, that it
might by dfegiees be prepared for the more
sublime happiness of the heavenly world.
The conversation probably.gave rise to the
following dream :
The doctor imagined himself danger
ously ill at a friend’s house- in Loudon ;
after lying in this state for some time, he
thought bis soul took flight in some kind
of vehicle, which, though very different
from the body ft had just quitted, was stiTj
material. lie pursued his course till he
was some distance from the city, when,
turning back and reviewing the town, he
could not foi bear saying to himself: 1 How
trifling and ho w vain do these affairs, in
which the inhabitants of this place are ea
gerly employed, appear to me in a separate
spirit.’ At length, as he was continuing his
progress, at though without any certain
direction, yet easy and happy in his
thoughts of the universal providence and
government .of God, which extends alike
to all states and w&rtd*, he was mot by one
who told hThi he was sent to conduct him
to the place appointed for his abode ; from
hence lio e,o Deluded that it could ue no
other than an angel, though he appeared
iti the form of an elderly man. They went
together tiITthev came in sight of a large
building, which looked like a palace,
upon inquiring, hie guide told him it waa
the place assigned for his residence at pres
ent; upon which, the Doctor observed, that
he remembered to have read while on earlbi
‘ That eye hath uot seen, nor ear heard,
nor heart, conceived, what God -hath laid
up for his servants whereas he could con
ceive an idea of such a building as (his,
from others he had seen, though he ac
knowledged they were greatly inferior to
this in elegance. When they reached
the palace, the guide !ed them through a
saloon in the inaer parlor. The first thing
he saw was a golden cup, thaj stood upon
the .kible, onvyhieh was embossed a figure
of a vine ai d a cluster of grapes. He ask.
ed his guide.the meaning of this who told
him it was a cup from which the Saviour
drank new wine with his disciples in his
kingdom, the figures on it were intended
to signify the union between Ghrist and
his people; implying that the grapes derive
their beauty-from the not; saintB, even in
a state of glory, were indebted to their
Head, in whom they were complete.
While conversing, he beard a tap at Ibe
door, and was told by the angel that it was
the signal of the Lord’s approach. Ac
cordingly, in a short time, he thought our
Savior entered the room, and upon casting
himself at his feet, he graciously raised him
up, and with a look of inexprsssibe com
placency, assured him ofhis favor, and his
acceptance of his laithful service; and
as a tyken of bis peculiar regard, and
the Ultimate- friendship he intended
to honor him with, he took the cup, and
after driuking of it himself, gave it into i
his hands. The Doctor would have de- .
dined it at first as too great an houor, j
but his Loid replied as to Peter: ‘If thou ,
drink not with me, thou hast no part in <
me.’ This soene filled him with such a i
transport of gratitude, love and admiration, ]
that he wm ready to sink uuder it. His i
Lord told him that lie must leave him for |
the present, but he would repeat his visit
As toon as his master retired, he observed j
the room war hung around with pictures; ;
upon examining them he saw, to his sur- (
prise, that they contained the history of i
bis own lifethe most remarkable scenes ■
>• had passed though were represented '
n a lively manner. It may be imagined
bow this affected his mind ; the tempta
tions and trials be had been exposed tO(
instances of Divine goodness towards him
at different periods of his life, all presented
to his view, excited the strongest emotion
of gratitude, especially when he reflected
that he was now out of the reach of any
future distress; and that all the purposes
of Divine love and mercy towards him
were happily accomplished. This ecstacv
of joy and thankfulness, into which' these
reflections threw him was so great that it
awoke him out of sleep. But for some
considerable time after he. awoke the im
prassrons continued so lively, that tears of
joy fto.wed down his cheeks ; and he said
that be never, on any occasion, remem
bered to have felt sentiments of devotion
love and gratitude equally strong.
DIVISION IN THE CHURCH. .
There is nothing which cripples the
energies and destroys the influence of a
church so much as a division among its
members. Many a flourishing^ church
has been broken up and mined by it. It
produces a state of things thit^dcstroy all
hope of good. No church cW grow in
grace or in members, that is not united
by the tender chords of Christian syrapa
thy and love. Division and alienation of
feeling among those who should be one in
Christ, not only cools the spirit of devo
tion, but prevents all uni n of energy
and effort in that cause which demands
the entire, united and unceBsing consecra
tion ofGod’s people. The spirit of dis
cord is so direct/v opposed to the Spirit
of Christ, that it must be ruiuous to any
church wbeie ft exists. It paralyZss at
once its energies and renders ineffectual
all attempted efforts for good. A church
in this condition cannot expect to exert
an influence upon the world, nor has it
the promised blessings of heaven to en
courage and sustain it. And yet how
slight are the causes which aomet'ines
produce this division and alienatiou
arapng the professed followers of Christ ?
Feelings are awakened and parties for
med, by a few officious, indiscreet per
sons, that may last for years. It is at>
easy ibiug to get up parties in a church
for the devil is always ready to help, and
he not unfrequently persuades such to be
believe that they are acting for the best
interests of the cause of Christ, when in
fact they are only actuated by a desire_to
carry out their own purposes. If these
purposes lead to the destruction of the
peace and harmbny of the church, they
are wrong, and ought for the sake of the
great cause, to be given up, however ear
nestly desired. - Sacrifice every cherished
purpose of.Lh« heart, soomsr than divide
the church of Gcd. This is the spirit of
Christ; and if Christians were governed
in all they do by this spirit, we would
seldom, if ever, hear of parties and divis
ious among the people of God.. They are
a reprbaoh to religion, and can never fail
to paralyze the efforts and influence of
any church.—-True JF»<n«w.
POLUICAL PREACHING.
Infidelity WaB never to Btrong nod re
ligion so weak in any Christian land as in
France towards the close of the eighteenth
oentury. It was a period when learning
was full of mischievous skepticism, and
when the popular mind was intoxicated
with a frantic spirit of civil revolution.—
Religion had no immunity where she had
bo security, and she was tempted to step
lown from her throne to mingle with the
itorm. She sank in the death grasp of
.be bloody tragedy, to which she had made
terself an ally ; and then iufidelity had
to check. This mighty calamity was but
be inevitable alliance.' When religirn
loops to become an adjunct to the iutem
rerate zeal of political strife, and casts
iway her distinctive and holy office, she
oils her vestments with the impure con
act, and poison the pure fountain of
ter faith and her mission with J.he diugs
hat are huckstered in seasons of wild po
itioal discord.
History is full of instruction and pro
ouud admonition upon this sad theme.—
Nations and communities hare felt the
courge in the long eclipse of every ray of
edeeming light and the tardy return of
octal and inoial health.
Religion never wandered from her legi
timate sphere, to sliare the great agitating
movement* that cor.vaUe society with
some bold scheme of political corruption
and base ambition, alien to her sober and
peaceful province, without injuring or en
dangering her benign and holy cause. The
active aud boisterous elements of sseular
lifs take hold 'Jf her gentle spirit when
adroit appeals are made to her sympathv;
and, incautiously relaxing her hold on her
best safeguaids, to give her helping hand,
she lends her strength to the promotion
of vicious end$ before she is aware cf her
false position. If returning reason should
open her eyes to her great error, she night
decide to retire from the lost field to re
pair ber violated faith and injured reputa
tion, as the best amends she could make.
But if infatuation should blind her to a
true sense of duty, and she should move
on in companionship with unholy ambi
tion, the last step would be to her own
dishonored grave. With these memorials
and warnings before us it is deplorable
to see, in our own land, in this enlight
ened ag«, in the clear light aud defined
path of religious duty, so many pulpits
desecrated to polilical preaching, aud so
much zeal worse tnan wasted, ill the false
name of religion, to aid the worst spirit
of domestic discord ; to weaken, if not
to sever, the bond of our national Union,
invoking hostility and discord where
there should be peace and harmony ; cut
ting asunder the fraternal lies of broth
erhood ; stimulating a blind pestilence to
peril everything that is dear to us in gov
ernment, aud a>l that is racred to t\yf
great cause of civil and religious liberty,
that bigots in black may preach treason
and bapiize infidelity with the sancti$bs>
of sacerdotal imposture. It is, indeed,*
sad spectacle ; but this does not tell the
extent of the shame and evil. It lias a
deeper shade of’ferinie when a venal press
is leagued with a licentious pnlpit to defile
the altars of region and repudiate the ob
ligations of patriotism. Of this scene of
tuipitude iu another land, Madame liolaud
exclaimed, on her way to the scaffold, ‘ Oh!
liberty, how mauy, crimes are .perpetrated
iu thy uame !’ aud she might have added,
•ilow many mimes under the mask of re
ligion 1’ \A—
Whilst we lament and reprobate the
convulsions that endanger our commou
country, we have the cheering consolation
ot knowing that these evils, however threat
ning, have their limit, and are destined to
tall infinitely short of their aims. If the
pulpit h ts its bigots and uqfaiUil'ul stew- |
aids, rjligiou has her puaudretilhlul vo |
taries throughout all hyif herders—strong,
pending, and, aou.t roiling—watchful auu ;
jealous of her good name, and her high
and holy mission—ready to rebuke error,
to puuish hypocrisy, and to lead iu the,
way ot duty. If the press is not unanimous j
it has nevertheless an imbocjied aud com
manding strength that is watchful aud
faithful at every point of duty ; as ready
to rebuke clerical sjostacy as it is to ex
pose political corruption. The people
too—the sovereigns of our laud—love and
honor religicn as a great divine element,
working in her approp-iiate sphere to dis
pense blessings where her healing is ne.
eessary, but not to usurp the popular
prerogative iu what perlaiue to civil gov
ernment. ,
i
Church and State are distinct in ourj
land—made so Aotn the clear convictions j
of sound polity aud the relative demands
Bach for the good of all. They have trav
riled on as handmaids, in harmony through
»ur ualional career, and in subserviency
of their respective obligations. They act and
e-act in their orbits without jarring, from
m obseivauce oi
ind distinct bou
m
eir respective duties
ies. They must live
together in there relations, or expect to
"all in a common destruction.— Washing
ton Union.
Anjold writer has beautifully said : Re
member that every ]>erson, however low;
las rights and feelings. Iu all contentions
et peace be rather vour object than tri
umph. Value triumph only as the means
if peace. ^ *
Seneoa advised Luoillfus, that whatever
is was doing, he should imagine some of
the Roman worthies before him, and then
he would do nothing dishonorable.
RURAL,
How blest the Farmer's simple life, .
How pure the joy it yields !
Far from the world's turmoil and strife,
Free ’mid the scented fields 1
FARM LIFE.
“ O Friendly to the best pursuits
Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to
peace,
Do in eh tic life, in rural pleasure passed !
Few kmw thy value aud few taste thy
sweets j
Though many boast thy favors, and affect
To understand and choose thee for their
own?” . [Cotiper.
Education is by no mean* confined to
schools. These are but rudimental and
auxiliary to that training which is begun
in'the cradle and finished only at death.
The nursery days of our life, aud ila busi
ness pursuits-, have an iinpoitant bearing
upon the formation of character. What a
man does, as well is what he studies, in
books, educates him. The scenes amid
which his boyhood is passed, out of school
the objects which occupy bis thoughts, the
problems he daily solves in earning his
bread, quite as much si apa character as
the scenes and problems of the school room.
Agriculture is the laigest and most im
portant of all our material interests, the
occupation which the^ largest portion
of our countrymen are born. It is a mat
ter of interest to consider the b|aring of
ibis pursuit upon the characters of those
who are engaged in it.
There are those who consider the menial
occupation—degrading to the drody by
the toil which it imposes, and belittleing
to the mind by the attention it requires
to the minute details of its business. They
regard its implements as the bulges of
servility, and look with disdain upon the
plowhoy’s lot. Tlmy deprecate the influ
ence of farm life upon social and mental
culture, aud look upou the rustic man as
a type of boorishness and ignorance.—
They think it mainly a business for brute
muscles, where mind can achieve no con
quests, and where skillful labor fiuds a poor
reward. They tbiuk the way of the man
ofgenias is inevitably hedged up, upon
Lh« farm, that there is no heroic woik to
be performed, no laurels to be won. 1*
he wonld do deeds worthy offhis manhood,
gain wealth, gain honor, make himself a
name that will live, he must turn to noble;
occupations.
If those who are strangers to the farm
alone cherished the view, we could abide
it in silence. But when fanners themselves
admit this impeachment of their ealling’,
and the pestilence of this heresy finds its
way to our firesides, add makes our sons
and dhugliteis discontented with oar rurai
homes, it is time to speak out. If"coin,
parisons must be made, which are invid
ious, the shadows shall not all fall upon
the farmer’s lot. It is time that other cal.
lings should he stripped of that romance
in which they are vailed, and that the
sons of the farm should kuow what they
have in prospeoPavhen they turn their hacks
upon the homes of iboir youcii. It it meet
that they should better uuderstaud the
blessings ^f1 their lot, its capacities for im
provement, and its superiority to all other
occupations. We would arrest that feel
ing of disquiet which keeps so large apart
of our rural population perpetually longing
for new fields of enterprise. We would
havb them settled, at least a portion of
them, 13 the old parish, and bend all their
energies to the improvement and adorn
ment of their homes.— lit t’. William C lift
DEEP PLOWING— SUBSOILIXG.
In a late number of the Farmer we sub
mitted some remarks on the necessity of a
thorough preparation of the soil for the
benefit of the crops to be grown upon it. j
We now beg leave to offer a few words
on the necessity and advantages of deep :
plowing, which were incideutly adverted ^
to, in the remarks to which we have re-j
feted.
According to the depth to which land j
is plowed, it serves as a vessel or reservoir
for the water that falls upon it. If the
plowihg be shallow, tho moisture is re-[
taiued for a short timo only, unless the j
supply should be replenished. Thus a field
e
ADVERTISEMENTS,
Auvertisements, not inconsistent with the
character of the piper, will be Inserted at tha^
icllotring'rater:—
•s“' '’ThrrSqT/kff <jf¥I{jtfes uif insert i jtj 1 do
For each yBbsequent Insertion -o
Ohe square fi months 6 Uy
—"OfTt1 square TTfiflWfftfT IP P®
Two squares (5 months . ■ r1 00
Two squares 1C months" 19 00
Each additional square . . ■ P PP
Businesocard* of 5‘o: fl lines tvMJbe inserted
for five dollars per )ear.
Those who edverti-e hr tlie rear, have the
privilege of qhaagieg the'aflverthseinent two. or
three times a year. Adrer.istments to be changed
every week, will be inserted aceerdir.- <& agrees
meat between thp parties, , ...
JOB WOfcK
Jon PRi-MTiNo<otall kinds, will De executed
at this Office with ueatnejs and dispatch.
.r_'.r. 'j«: :■»-»■ . ———— ■ -
plowed to the deptli of' 12 inches wilt cob*
tintie to hold water, without suffering from
wash ing while another, lying along Side
broken dp 6 inche* deep, may he satura
ted untif the water passes off on the sur -
face, carrying a portion of the soil along
with it But the deeply plowed field not
Only suffers less from tlteTall of heavy or
continued rains, but in'limes of drought
retains within its'ifitetifices as abundant
supply of moisture^or the growing crept
long after the shallow plowed land has be
come dry and parched,
We do not, however, intend to intimate
that every kind of soil should be plowed
to the depth of ten or twelve inches; but
all should be plowed as Jeep as circum
stances will permit. We are no advoca'e
of turning up large quantities of clay in
order to get, a deep soil at once. It should
be a grad sal work—a wotk in many cases
of vears. Bmt in the meantime the sub
soil ought to be used, and will admit of
being used.to advantage in a majority of
cases. Some farmers have been discour
aged from continuing it, because they have
seen little or no benefit from it the first
year. The necessary conditions perbap*
did not exist to test its advantages. Nor
indeed should we expect its vaine to be
fully developed in the course of the first
year. It may, and' no doubt will, require
years for the air to extend through Hus
depth of the loosened.soil, correcting the
acrid properties of the clay, and imparting
its healthy and fertilizing influences iu
their place.
At any rates, shallow plowing and ini'-1
perfect preparation have been tried long
enough to show that there can be no per
manent improvement of our lands under
that sjEtem. It is one of waste and de
struction ; and the intelligent cult'vator of
the soil cannot fail to see the necessity of
making soldo change.—Southern Farmer.
ROANOKE BUTTER.
Those who have had the pleasure of
eating the Roanoke butter at the hospi
table boards of the Messrs. Burgwvn, of
Northampton, and elsewhere in the vi
cinity of their admirably conducted farms,
(for it sometimes finds its way thence into
the neighborhood, and occasionally travels
a great distanee on a friendly errand,) will
at once acknowledge its superiority ovar
any other made in the State, and its
equality with the very best produced auy
i where.'
The high perfection given to this most
delicious article of food in this particular
locality of the Roanoke Valiev, is doubt
less attributable to the rich grasses with
, which these gentlemen have stocked their
beautiful and extensive pasture grounds-—
i In this department of agriculture they
iiave gone a bow shot beyond any other
farmers on the river, and have introduced
^nto their system of farming a regular
cultivation of t.hs best and uio*r congenial,
grasses which are to oo obtained ; anu
the results are rewarding them «oi only
iu the improvement Wiiteir soil, but in
the production of the choicest beef, mut
ios>, miik and buttet—to be found in the
South.
The agriculture capacities of this mag
nificient valley have been too little devel
oped. Its great natural adaptation to grain,
aud its exclusive devotion to the growth of
Indian corn and wheat, as articles of
sale, have hidden from view most of its
| otlu r abundant and fertile sources of
] wealth, some of which these gentlemen
'are now displaying to the delight aud as
tonishment even, of the old settlers.
Enough butter, in my opinion, might
be produced within a space of twenty miles
I of the valley below the’falls of the riverys
jtosupply in winter and early spring, ali
the eastern ton us of the r-tate. And let
me assure you, if it should he of such
quality as that which is produced at the
dairy of II. K. Burgwyn, Esq., it would
drive Goshen butter out of market.—Ral.
Register.
Chokbd Cattis.—“ It is said” that
neat osttlyfchoked by a turnip, potato, &c.,
may be invariably relieved by pouring in
to the throat, of the animal, from a junk
bottle, a pint or so ol lamp Or sweet oil, at
the same time rubbing the throat briskly
with the hand. We say that this will often
relieve, but uot “ invariably.” It may ho
well to try this as a first remedy.—Ex,