The Commission, November 1850

VOLUME 2, NUMBER 11. “Go yc into all the world and preach, the gospel to every creature.7’ RICHMOND, NOVEMBER 15, 1850. Soutljcnt Baptiot (ffomwtticm. CoiTCspoiulcuce of (ho Foreign Board. Communications relating to the general busi- neas'of tho Foreign Mission Board, may be ad¬ dressed, post paid, to James В. Taylor, Cor. Sec. Richmond, Vo. Communications enclosing donations, or relat¬ ing, to the financial department, may bo address¬ ed to. Archibald Thomas, Treat. Richmond, Va. Foe tho Commission. ; ; DIALOGUE ^Between two members of a church in the Sar.d - . ... rcic/i Islands. • A. Brother B., wo aro about to send out one of our brethren as a missionary to one of the South Sea Islands, 'can't you giro из something towalds his support? D. Tho fact is, brother, wo have too much to do at homo to think of such a thing — there aro thousands hero yet who aro not converted. True, idolatry is abolished, and wo have a num¬ ber of churches, schools, seminaries and somo newspapers— also a goodly number of church members; but it has been only about thirty years sinco the gospel was first introduced among us, and we aro, therefore, feeble. IIow can it be expected, then, that wo should do any thing for tho heathen, when there is so much to do at homo! ■ A. But the gospel has now n good foundation among us, and wo should sympathize with those who liavo never heard it, or had art opportunity of becoming Chtistians as our countrymen have. Л. But . those South Sea Islanders are so de¬ graded, ‘I really Aoabt 'whether they.'wouid' re; ‘*c2i*o<Tho'gospet'?f it^vero scnrw"th5niil,,! ^ A. Why, my brother, you certainly liavo for¬ gotten in what condition the gospel found our fathom. II. 1 know they wero barbarians; but I think they wero more snsceptiblo of religious impres¬ sions than the South Soa Islanders would be. A. But this is a mere supposition ; you do not know it. П. I know this, however, that wo havo a plenty to do at homo, and while there are so many without religion all around из, I cannot see why wo should bo bending o(F to seek for heathen. A. Suppose now, brother B., that tho mission¬ aries who brought us tho gospel had argued as you do, when in their country, what would liavo been your and my condition at this time! B. Why I snpposo wo should have been in tho darkness of heathenism; but they could rot liavo argued thus, as they have all doubtless re ceivod the gospel there. A. I beg your pardon, sir; but my pastor in¬ formed mo the other day that there ure thousands in America who have not yet embraced the gos¬ pel. B. Is it possible! A. Yes, quite possible. B. Well I thought from \hcir sending mis¬ sionaries to us, that they wero all converted in their country. A. Now, brother B., in view of what the gos¬ pel lias done for us— iho Bchool-hcuses and churches which it has built— tho dcgradalion and barbarism from which it lias raised us— and the peace and happiness which it affords to our enun try— do you think they weto right in sending us theso missionaries, though they had much to do at homo! J). I must confess it has been a great blessing to us— one, too, of which I would not for all B. Well I must' confess your remarks bave altered my notions somewhat, and I don’t know but that it is right, sinco the serptures teach us to do unto others as we would havo them fflp unto из. 1 guess you may put me down for five dollars. [American Christian, do you not think that we did right in sending the gospel'to those islands! and that B, acted right in concluding to givq five dullats to send if to the islands beyond them!], !' the world be deprived. To bo candid, I think thoy were right, in our case at least; for God has wonderfully blessed their labors and thus shown his approbation. A. What do you say, then, with regard to our imitating their example, by sending out this mis¬ sionary to the South Sea Islands! For tho Commission. Arduus and Laxus. “ Why are you offended with me, my dear friend, for bringing homo to you this charge!!', said, Arduus. "I most fieeiy confess my own self, guilty of the very same, and acknowledge that I have no justifying plea before the tribunal of the Great Jiidge, ravo the blood of Him, whom in this very .respect, I have crucified to myself afresh, and put to an open shame! I trust that He accepts tho pica, fur I do present t> with all tho sincerity and earnestness of one wlic feebfrom his inmost soul ho has no other— re! linquishing every other hold, I commit. myself-! all I am— all 1 have — with all the devotedness о a penitent heart, to the assurance of this. las refuge ! So clinging to thi3 blessed assurance, feci that I havo separated myself from the woifc — havo ceased to cling to it— for you see that a: tho eeripturo saith I cannot hold to tho one am to the other also; and how can I but cleave ti Him, who * hath become my refuge! ’ ” “There was a rime when llm glorious ant blessed claims of the gospel found no response ii my bo?om, ndrin my deeds— when in my'eye there, appeared no glory . jn thoJjjp at , Atonement,' save so" i’ar*aj if related- to my.por»on»l ьаЬшкщ. Of all my thoughts, whether they related to this life or to that which is to сото, tho reigning power was selfishness. In brief, I was not at onowilh Christ; my heart thrilled notin unison with tho expansive propension3 of His ineffable compassion, lovo and mercy. And yet though 1 blush to own it now, I confidently, pioudly boasted that I was His; that I knew no will but Ilia. 1 had a biother — lie, too, was selfish like all who knew not Christ, and loved this world’s wealth. But when tho gospel led him to Mount Calvary, lie lifted up his eyes ami beheld afar off, an afllictcdand deslituto people ‘for whom Christ died,’ even the same as for him— who yet had never heard of the cross. And the cross зраке unto him, ‘These worldly riches to which tliou art ctucified now, are sanctified as a means by which thou, even thou, for thou art counted worthy, mayest make Christ known to yonder desolato and perishing people.’ With penetrat ing joy ho heard the voice. Ho looked again with satisfaction on his wealth, for now it was his Lord’s, lie felt himself rich in tho 1 pearl of great prico; and for jay he sold nil he had’ and gave it for tho poor, ignorant idolators, and then gavo himself to prayer for them. And I had loved him, until ho gavo up all for lovo to Christ; but now ту бои! revolted from him, for his zeal of sacrifice rebuked my grasping avarice, and was an insult to tho god 1 worshiped. 1 was wrath with him, as the murderer Cair. was with his brother Abel, because of his acceptable sac- tificc. I smote him with rudo and bitter words; his heart that loved me was pierced, and the deepest wound was this ; that I was against the Saviour I claimed as tho lover of my soul. 1 parted from him in anger one night, and the next morning found him asleep in death, a smile of sweetness yet of touching sadness on his fair young face. My soul was smitten with tepeat* ant grief. ‘I abhorred myself— I repented in dust and ashes.’ Ami while I lay low in the dust bcl'oro Him, the Lord caused mo to seo and to loatho ‘ the iniquity of my covetousness,’ and to abhor myself because I had been an habitual robber of the Lord’s treasury, and by this means i a traitor to the cause of Christ— the salvation of !puls. For was I not in very truth beforo this } a robber and a murderer! ’ " Ё. A. L. To to continued. Dramatic Sketch. u Scene. — A, parlor with gas lights burning, and a, coal fixe diffusing an agreeable warmth. ; Husband. — (Silling at a centre table,, with, jpapers before him, and addressing his wife.)— •My dear, 1 liavo just been reckoning the ex- jpenses of our family for the year, and I find .them to be cpnsiderably greater than my income justifies. Cast ynnr eyes oyer this schedule, asd .you will be surprised to see. how much w.ehave expended, ,ar,d ha convinced of the necessity for retrenchment. Four thousand dollars, per am ,num is tho estimated expenditure— thus! house rent, eight hundred dollars ; carriage hire, two hundred dollars; tailor’s and milliner’s bill, three .hundred dollars; music teacher and conceits, ; one hundred and fifty dollars; parties given, two hundred dollars; three servant’s wages, three .bundled dollars; but I need, not ptocced, you can examine the remaining Items yourself. ■ Now, the question is, how. shall we retrench! It is true, 1 liavo invested five thousand, dollars this year, but unless I can do belter than this, I can scarcely hope to acquire that competency l have so anxiously desired, and upon which l can retire from the cares of business. Wife. — 1 am as ready as you can be to re- ; trench, if it bo possible ; but you know, my dear, • that it i3 necessary to keep up appearances, ! Our station in society, demands this, аз well as . our daughters, wlioyoit: know, are growing uj, •' and whose prospects depend on our keeping up a genteel establishment,; ; Still, I .think, we Ь&уе boon. .rather- lou-bviebrrol lo.Dur нмш ary ex¬ penses, but in our charities. You recollect you gave to the Missionary Society, twenty dollars; to tho Tract Society, twenty dollars ; to tho Deaf and Dumb, Blind, and Orphan Institutions, twenty-five dollars each, and 1 have been in the habit of paying a dollar a year to— let me see- seven different Societies; and then, too, you recollect, our pew rent is twenty-fivo dollars a year, and I think, besides this, we liavo given at least thirty dollars during the past year to other charities. Now, all theso things count up, and I really think wo are not called to do so much. There is Mr. A., and Mr. B., ami Mr. C., they aro worth five times as much as we are, and I never hear of them contributing to such objects. Husband.— (Musing.)— Well it dues appear to me that we havo been too liberal in theso mat¬ ters, and— (Hero a knock is heard at the door, and a gen¬ tleman is ushered in, in whoso countenance, be¬ nignity and severity are strangely mingled.) Conscience. — 1 hope 1 do not intrude, but over¬ hearing your conversation, I could not forbear to venture an opinion on the subject of it. You find your expenditures have been loo lavish, and wish to curtail them! Husband and Wife. — Exactly so. Conscience.— And you wish to begin by re¬ trenching your charities! Husband and Wife. — That appears to be the must natural way of accomplishing our object. Conscience. — Suppose you begin with your luxuries and superfluities. Cod's providence has bestowed on you all you possess, and do you owe him no acknowledgment for this! If you withhold benevolence from Cod's poorest crea¬ tures, can you expect he will continue his benev- olenco to you? Does he not hold you in his hand, and can he not, in a moment, blast your prospects, and bring you and your children into a situation to bo recipients of charity? If you show no mercy, can you expect mercy? Is thero not an account to be given of your stow ardship? Would not a very trifling retrench¬ ment in your household expenditures enable you to treble your charities, and in doing this, would you not feel better, and have a surer prospect that your monoy would prove a blessing to you, and not prove a curse to your children L JIuslmdand Wife.— (Excited.)—1 This, fir, is a ’.very , unwairaniablo . and impudent intrusion npon our private matters. : Conscience.— (Reining.)— I have nothing more to say' at present, but remember! Г will- visit you hereafter) fwheni you will be compelled to listen to more unpalatable truths,— PrfsbyUtian. - l - rr— r Ъ The Happy Laborers.;';'"’-* Where Christ has, toil'd and martyrs bled, j» And. saints their, tears have sown ;.y qo Unto their, Ыгагз entering,»!, idcrjdJ Wq reap vyhero they have sown.! мм St»*' We tako their vows on из, О God !'■ '"’I®0* ' To' do' thy will we come; ' :m s№*> Thrust in our sickles at thy word, And shout our Harvcst'Home. 1 ** ‘i,e^ ’-/it r’** “ ’ * * * ' Г* * v H'nient Tho Way to be Happy/'** A. story is told of two travelers in Lapland, which throws more light on the art of being, hap¬ py than a whole yolume of precepts and aphor¬ isms. Upon a very cold d iy ’in the winter jfhey weie driving along in a sledge, wrapped uprm Гигз from head to foot. Even their, facqtw»re mostly covered; and you could, see baldly any thing but their cyelirows; .and these were white and glistened with frost. At length they saw* poor man who fiad.snnk dpwn,.bcnumea and .fro¬ zen,. in the snow. . ‘ We must stop and help him,” said one, of the travelers, ”. j|Stdpyaod Kelp him I ’,‘jri;p1iefl*iW|ntber; ‘ ‘iou. will h c.ycr jhinFo/. stpppi iig1 on such a day as this! We are half frozen ourselves, and ought to be at our journey’s end as soon аз pos¬ sible.” “ But I cannot leave this man to perish,” re¬ joined the more humane traveler, “ 1 must go to liis relief ; ’’ and lie stopped his sledge. “Come,}’ said he, “come, help me rouse him.” “ Not I,” replied the oilier, “ I have too much regard for tny own life to expose myself to this freezing atmosphere more than is necessary, I will sit here, and keep myself as warm as I Can* till you come back.” So saying, he resolutely kept his scat, whi’.o his companion hastened to the relief* of the pet; ishing man, whom they had so providentially discovered. The ordinary means of restoring consciousness and activity were tried with com¬ plete success. Bui the kind-hearted tiavplcy was so intent upon saving tho life of a fellow- creature, that ho had forgotten his own exposure^ and what was the consequence?— Why, the very effort which lie made to warm the stranger warmed himself!— and thus he had a two-folii reward. He had tho sweet consciousness, of doing a benevolent act, and he also found him¬ self glowing from head to foot by leason of the exertions ho had made. And how wa3 .it with his companion, who had been so much afraid of exposing himself? Ho was almost ready, to freeze, notwithstanding the efforts lie had beon making to keep warm ! The lesson derived from this little incident b very obvious. We are all. travelers to a distant country.. At every step of out journey we find other travelers, who need our friendly aid. Nay , God has brought them around our path in great numbers; and, far as the eye can reach, we sep their dense and gloomy ranks. Now there aro two ways of meeting theso objects of Christian sympathy and brotherly regard. Wo can, go abroad with tho stein purpose of a selfish and unloving spirit, saying in reply to every appeal which is addressed to our better feeling, “ De; part in . peace : be ye warmed and. filled ; ” or ..we can say, with tho warm-hearted traveler, “ I.earij not see this man perish ; I must hasten, to,, his relief.” And the rule which we adopt for our