140 CHRISTIANITY AND CIVILIZATION. onward development, detracting from our happi- || system of human destiny were so palpably dreadness, and retarding our advancement to the goal of absolute perfection. Such views attach the greatest importance to the present life, offer the weightiest inducements to rectitude, and present the most exalted objects of pursuit. Skepticism may affirm that this rectitude has no foundation, and that these objects have no existence; but it cannot affirm that between them and human nature there is no fitness, or that the latter has no affinity for the former. Society must be founded upon principles of right. But if right be arbitrary, or if it have no existence, society cannot exist, and, consequently, civilization is impossible. What then is right? At this point, too, the world has lost its way, and has formed as many conceptions of right as they have introduced objects of religious homage. Right, that is adapted to the character and condition of man, can have but one foundation. Remove it from that, and you introduce eternal fluctuationsyou open the flood-gates of strife, and let the dark waters of contention pass over the fragrance of society. It is the character of the object worshiped that furnishes the idea of right. Now, the character of the divinity of the Christian system cannot be imitated without results the most pleasing upon the individual, and effects the most healthy and generous upon community. Right is made to take its resting place upon the changeless will of this exalted Sovereign. His will being the perfection of the universe, renders divinely sacred all individual and social rights; and the highest of his creatures dare not intercept the feeblest in their strugglings for the accomplishment of their destiny. Let this definition of right, which finds its echo in human nature, take possession of the race; then the splendid discovery, that man's highest and truest interest is attained by perfect devotion to the welfare of his fellow, bursts upon the astonished world. But this discovery only makes way for one still more vivid. Now the race appears as one stupendous whole, whose centre is sustained by the hand of Omnipotence; and, consequently, individual perfection is involved in the perfection of the whole. This is one of the bright achievements of Christianity-a conquest over ignorance and darkness, that no other system ever has or ever could secure. But Christianity speaks the bright conception before us, and steadies it for our gaze. If that conception recede from our view, and be lost in mystery, farewell for ever to civilization. No other system has revealed the grand point of human weakness. The miseries, the failures, and the helplessness of man have been treasured up by the historian; but the severest minds have sought in vain for that invisible cause whose effects upon the stupendous ful. In every system of philosophy and morals there is a mighty chasm. The moralist presents the rules of action that would be applicable to beings who have not, like ourselves, experienced the paralyzing power of some unseen agent. Their want of application to man as we find him he is free to admit and lament; but the obstruction in the tide of human volitions that urges it from its destined channel, he does not see-he cannot comprehend. But Christianity marches to the point, grasps the difficulty, sheds light upon the cause, shows the commencement of its ravages, and proposes an efficient remedy. It declares that disobedience has separated between the soul and its Creator-that obedience is the only hook upon which man fastens his destiny. Remove the power of gravitation, and the universe is wrecked-planet dashes upon planet--system thunders against system in the wildest confusion; so take away the fastening to the throne of the Christian divinity, and the universe of mind is bestormed. Leaving its source of light and heat, it wanders on, far from its destined orbit, in ever-thickening darkness. This revelation accounts for the great disparity between the nature and the condition of man, opens a silver passage back to that eminence from which man has precipitated himself, and proffers assistance for the accomplishment of that for which he has been incapacitated by disobedience. This fact must be admitted--this cause must be discovered, and this remedy must be obtained, in order to perfect civilization. History shows us that all the backsets civilization has met with, have arisen from a neglect of the principles of Christianity. Not a solitary instance of failure can be adduced, in which the principles and views involved were not diametrically opposed to the principles and views of Christianity. A careful examination of Egyptian and Assyrian, Persian and Carthagenian, Grecian and Roman, European and American civilization, must bring ùs to this conclusion. Unless there be a system that can perfectly develop, carrying along the development of man and of society, there can be no permanency of civilization. However perfect it may rise, it must give way to the introduction of some new theory, and shock at shock-change after change. Those great impediments of improvement will spot and make up the history of the future as it has that of the past. What mind, unmoved, could see civilization, now proudly careering onward, checked and driven back to the darkness of savage barbarity? The effects of such a shock would be more terribly awful than the journey of the mightiest earthquake from continent to continent. By admitting the total falsity of the Christian system, has it not been established HOLINESS. that its philosophy is indispensable to avoid these constant innovations? To it, and to it alone, is the world indebted for all definite notions of human destiny-from it, and from it alone, has rolled the grand idea of personal responsibility-it, and it alone, has planted right upon its moveless base, and its arm alone has upturned the sublime truth that all men are equal. These ideas are indispensable; consequently, our proposition is true. Then let the apostles of philanthrophy rally around Christian philosophy. It alone has discovered that great chain of principles which, traced to its fastenings, will indissolubly bind together the wide-spread family of man. Upon this interesting topic the brightest stars in the intellectual firmament have shed their congregated splendors. Each new invention-every additional acquisition of one, has been treasured up by the succeeding generation. A mind has appeared in every age, whose mammoth power has collected the rays emanating from the history of the past, and cast them, with dazzling brightness, upon the civilization of his own time. But, until a lone stranger wandered from a distant world-a pitying messenger-and scattered the true principles of civilization, man, to himself, was the greatest enigma-his origin he knew not-his condition he could not understand-his destiny he was unable to conjecture, and society was as the angry twistings of the rolling cataract. Original. HOLINESS.-NO. III. 141 BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WAY OF HOLINESS, WITH NOTES "Wilt thou be made whole ?" AND now may my beloved R., indeed, with the Father of the faithful, be permitted to make a sacrifice of all her heart holds dear to God! May she, notwithstanding these shrinkings of the flesh, prove the willingness of her spirit in the sight of God, angels, and men, by now laying all upon the altar! Is your heart saying, "I cannot apprehend the altar as near?" Take the sword of the Spirit and drive away this apprehension; for "it is nigh thee." There is no intervening distance between you and Christ. The righteousness which is of faith speaketh in this wise, "Say not in thine heart who shall ascend to heaven; that is, to bring Christ down from above; or who shall descend into the deep; that is, to bring up Christ again from the dead." You have already observed that Christ hath set himself apart as the altar whereunto he designs that all his redeemed ones should come, and, by virtue of the altar upon which the offering is laid, become his peculiar people, zealous of good works. You are one of the dear disciples for whom he prayed when on earth, and he is now assuringly saying expressly to you, "For your sake I sanctify myself, that you may be sanctified through the truth." Having shown that to Christianity we are indebted for the fundamental principles of civilization, pleasing would be the task, and rich the reward of tracing out and comparing the legitimate consequences flowing from these principles with those of any other system. One example from the many must suffice. Every other system that has appeared in the world has intentionally 'degra-him that hath loved us, and washed us from our ded one half the human family, and that half the mothers of the whole. They have thrown up mountain barriers across their pathway to perfection-they have denied them access to the fountains of improvement-they have plucked them from their destined sphere, and settled upon them the densest darkness. But Christianity snatches them from the noon of horror-makes them the companions, the counselors, sustainers, and equals of man-irradiates them with responsibility, intelligence, and immortality--adorns them with modesty, submission, and obedience. O, Christianity! Christianity! whether thou hast taken thy birthplace on the celestial plains or not, thine is the work of mercy. Our advancement and thy prosperity are inseparable. Whether death be an eternal sleep or not, in thee centre the world's hopes of perfection. Let not the inveteracy of man's hatred, bent on his own ruin, drive thee from this wandering province of Jehovah's dominions. And now what is wanting but that you, as a worker together with him, perform the work assigned you? Perhaps you may have, in part, forgotten your holy calling. It is the design of God that you should now, with the hallowed company of the redeemed, begin the everlasting song, "Unto sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever." May you now, in spirit, apprehend the vocation wherewith you are called! You are of God's royal priesthood! Will you now enter fully and actually into the work required by virtue of the relation which you now sustain to God? It is now your duty to offer up spiritual sacrifices. The offering to be presented is as near to you as is the altar upon which it is to be laid. The description of sacrifice now required at your hand, is found in Romans xii, 1. It reads thus: "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable, unto God, which is your reasonable service." "By the mercies of God!" What an argument is that! O, can thine heart resist? Hear and obey, I beseech you. This moment present thyself "a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable, unto God." 142 THE SUFFERER RELEASED. Original. THE SUFFERER RELEASED. - BY MRS. HAMLINE. "Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are." THE object of Christian biography is not to throw attractions round the sinner, but to illustrate the efficacy of the cross, and the glory of its Divine victim. And if, in the blindness of our natural love, we should swerve from this intention, how would our glorified friends reprove us; yea, and weep, could there be tears in heaven. They sing, "Unto Him that hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, unto Him be glory." This, we doubt not, is now the song of her whose brief career we are about to sketch; and in the spirit of this language, we are happy to present to the notice of the reader another "sinner saved by grace." If in this "young disciple" we find fewer faults, and more virtues, than are often found in those of her age-if in her protracted sufferings she was patient and cheerful-if in sickness she was weaned from earth, and made ready for heaven, let all the praise be given to Him who sanctified her through affliction. For God is the author of every pious emotion in every human heart. Elizabeth Elstner was born in Moscow, a small town on the Ohio river, in the year 1823. In her infancy her parents removed to this city, where they still reside. In early childhood, she exhibited not only a great degree of filial affection and obedience, but also, strong indications of piety toward God. Before seven years of age she became the. subject of religious convictions, and expressed a desire to unite with the Church of Christ. To this her parents objected, supposing it to be a mere impulse of the moment, and that she was too young to retain her impressions, or perseveringly to pursue a religious course. Sometime after this she was attacked with scrof ula, in a most painful form; and for many weary months was wasted to a skeleton by this fearful disease. Upon partial recovery she was again found at the house of God; and as soon as an invitation was given, rose, and went to her father to ask his permission to offer herself as a "probationer." The urgent manner in which she presented her request induced him to comply, and she proceeded alone to the altar-then in her ninth year. Sometime during the following year a protracted meeting was held at Wesley Chapel, at which Elizabeth had another opportunity of publicly evincing the firmness of her resolution to be a Christian. Mrs. E. was confined at home by illness, but Elizabeth, pressing her way through, presented herself among the "mourners," and there received the witness of the Spirit that her sins were pardoned. She returned home rejoicing, and falling on her knees beside her mother's bed, clasped her hands, and with loud praises proclaimed the love of her Redeemer. She was strongly attached to the Sabbath school, and during her whole life continued in it, first as pupil, and then as teacher; never absenting herself, except when compelled by feeble health. She early commenced a religious superintendence of her brothers and sisters, praying with them, and reading the Bible to them, and selecting portions of that holy book for them to commit to memory. It was also her custom to desire each of them to select a verse from the chapter read by her father at family prayer, and learn, and recite it to her; and such was her affectionate influence over them, that they delighted to perform the tasks she assigned them. Her younger brothers and sisters were members of the children's class, led by Mr. Wm. Neff, on Sabbath afternoon, at W- C, at which it is the usage for each one to recite a verse from the Bible, expressive of his own feelings. In this she took a deep interest; watching carefully that no class, and no duty of the class, were neglected. At school she was an example of propriety. Her affectionate and respectful deportment won the esteem of her teachers, and her amiable and discreet manners secured the confidence and love of her companions. Here the natural firmness of her character, and the strength of her attachment to the cause of her Savior, were displayed in a manner worthy the imitation of all who may be placed in circumstances like hers. She completed her education at a school which was attended by many who were quite unacquainted with the peculiarities of the Church of her choice; and by the more thoughtless of these, she was often rallied on the subject of her attendance upon places of worship of which they knew nothing correctly, save the name. But E. was as unflinching in her integrity, as she was uncompromising in her course. When asked if she would attend a class meeting, she would reply, "Certainly, I do attend them;" and then proceed to speak of their interest and utility-manifesting no mortification for the profession she had made; nor shrinking to acknowledge her attachment to those institutions which she believed to be of Divine appointment, how contemptible soever they might appear to the view of "the world." The religious tone of her compositions was also a subject of remark in the school; but nothing daunted at this, she "pursued the even tenor of her way;" and, in glancing over her numerous THE SUFFERER RELEASED. efforts of this kind, I observe comparatively few in which the subject dear to her heart is not introduced. In some the theme chosen is strictly religious; in others a theme in itself moral, or grave, is made to terminate in expressions of gratitude to God. In her books of school compositions, commencing with the year 1837, the following are a few of the subjects chosen: "Promises of Religion to the Young; Close of Life; The Holy Scriptures; Busy Idleness; The Ten Talents; A Providence Visible in every Country of the World; Palestine; Reflections on the Works of God; Scene in the Holy Land; The Prodigal Son; Christ Walking on the Sea of Galilee." In dwelling on themes taken from the Bible, her method was to sketch the scene in her own language, and then to add such reflections as it awakened in her mind. In some instances, she appears to have selected a subject and treated it expressly with reference to the improvement of her companions. Several of these are written in the style of a conversation held with her friend Narcissa. There is, also, an address to Narcissa in verse, which is here introduced: "TO NARCISSA. "Life, now, dear friend, to thee seems sweet, And golden hopes thy fancy greet :' Thy pathway now seems strewed with flowers, And hap❜ly pass thy sunshine hours: Thy eye, as yet, shines clear and bright: Not lost amid the gloom of night; Among her papers is, also, found "The Golden Rule," copied in her own hand, bearing date December 22, 1836. Her mother remarks, that this blessed precept of pure and hallowed charity prescribed by the Savior, seemed to be emphatically the rule of her life. She evidently strove to keep it in her mind, and carefully regard it in her intercourse with others; and not only do her parents testify, greatly to her praise, that her "feet with swift obedience did move" in acts of submission to their expressed will, and of kindness to her friends, but, also, that she was ever ready to bear supplies of food and clothing to the needy. Of this we might specify some affecting instances; and often was she seen hastening across the street in pursuit of "the blind beggar" (a person well known 143 by that appellation) who used to pass that way, to slip into her hand the gift of charity. Mrs. M.,* well known to many in this city as one who for many years sustained the keen blightings of adversity with Christian resignation, was an object of deep interest to Elizabeth. She was accustomed to visit Mrs. M. in her afflictions, and has left the following tribute of affection for her, written shortly after her death. Little did she then expect so soon to follow the sufferer to glory: "THOUGHTS ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF AN AGED FRIEND AND CHRISTIAN. "The memory of the dead is blessed.' How true it is, and how natural it seems, that all enmity should find a resting place this side of the gravethat strife and malice should repose within the cold tomb of oblivion. Yes, even the most desperate of mankind, (let his character have been ever so sullied and blackened with crime,) in the grave finds, in some degree, a hiding place. A religious awe restrains our feelings, and forbids us to speak censuringly of the departed. And then, if we thus hallow the memory of the sinner, with what delight, what ecstasy, should we dwell on the life and death of the Christian. Well do I remember our departed friend, Mrs. M. Affliction had strewed her path with sorrow; but religion, vital religion, had elevated her far above the ills of life; and though destined to breathe the breath of mortality, her happy spirit seemed continually rejoicing in the hope of one day bidding adieu to earth, and soaring to mansions of heavenly rest. "Never shall I forget the first time I saw her. Even then her frame, weak with age and disease, seemed tottering on the threshold of the grave; and yet-O! what a lesson-yet, amidst threatening disease, infirm old age, and the sufferings * It was the privilege of the writer to visit this afflicted saint a few times, and to witness her glorying in tribulation, and the holy joy with which she hailed the approach of dissolution. In addition to entire poverty, her heavenly Father saw fit to send her extreme and long protracted personal suffering. But he gave her power to triumph over all. It was her custom to throw her emaciated arms around us, and with tears of gratitude, to thank us for any little kindnesses we bestowed upon her, and to exhort and entreat us to meet her in heaven. On one occasion, we asked her if she enjoyed perfect love?" She replied, "Yes, I have enjoyed it the last six months." And then, with streaming eyes raised to beaven, she proceeded, in the language of ecstasy, to tell us how, at the commencement of that period, she had resigned herself wholly to her Savior; and how he had taken possession of her heart, filling it with perfect peace-how she felt him ever with her; in the day time and in the night season communing with her, and making her to feel that "these light afflictions were working out for her a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," while he enabled her to "look not at the things which are seen, and are temporal, but at the things which are not seen, and are eternal." She died as she had lived, proclaiming victory through the blood of the Lamb. 144 THE SUFFERER RELEASED. attending poverty, she wore a heavenly smile. How was it? Was it that she was insensible to the miseries which surrounded her? Impossible! for her feelings were the most delicate, the most sensitive. But her trust was in the Savior. From Him she drew comfort and consolation at all times; and thus her countenance was made to express the inward joy of her ever grateful and overflowing heart. Humility, too, was one of Mrs. M.'s most striking characteristics. But it were impossible for me to enumerate her many amiable and Christianlike graces; and I can only wish that, like our beloved and departed Mrs. M., I may live and die the death of the righteous, and thus be prepared to reap their joy in an endless eternity, A part of the summer of 1843, Elizabeth spent with her beloved cousins in Kentucky; upon whom she exerted a pious influence-leading them, by precept and example, to a "throne of grace." During this visit she addressed the following letter to her father, which, though not strictly religious, may be here introduced, both for its interest as a description of the springs to which she resorted for health, and as a specimen of her relish for the beauties of nature: "Sulphur Springs, Aug. 12, 1843. "DEAR FATHER,-Here I am at last, with the droppings of the spring sounding in my ears, and with mountains towering on every side; and here, down by the spring, whose waters, I hope, will prove a blessing to me, have I chosen to write. We started from cousin's about eight o'clock this morning, some of us riding in a nicely-covered wagon, and the rest on horseback. I of course formed one of the equestrian company. The distance is about fifteen miles, and through the most beautiful country I have ever yet seen. Nature, dear father, seems to have given to man every wish of his heart. To-day I have seen earth's store-house completely filled with fruits of every kind which are common with us, and some, to me, altogether new-such as the chestnut tree. The growth of hemp, too, has been to me a strange sight. But it has grown so dark I can see no longer, and shall have to finish in the morning, although it will be But this water-indeed, father, I know not how I can ever drink it. Goodnight, dear father! O, how I wish I had a glass of water from home! "This morning, dear father-this beautiful morning-do I re-commence my letter; and now, as my ideas are somewhat better collected, I shall at tempt, in few and simple words, to describe this region of fairy land. "Imagine, father, on your right and left mountains, lifting their lofty heads seemingly to the clouds, covered with trees-unlike any I have ever before seen-so tall and straight as to appear more like the works of art than of nature. But, notwithstanding, they are beautiful in the extreme; for where does nature appear in her true grandeur so well as when contrasted with the artful designs of man. From the mountains on the right issue forth the springs of water-two white sulphur, one chalybeate, and one black sulphur. The fountains are pretty, and the water cool and limpid; but, to the taste and smell, very disagreeable. In the front we have Mr.'s house, who you will recognize as our most gracious landlord. He is in the decline of life, stooping a little from the weight of years, with locks white as winter's snow-is very friendly, and altogether, I should think, an agree able old gentleman. Our cabins are situated in the same yard, with the springs just before us, being far more convenient than I had anticipatedalmost too much so. Such, dear father, is the place in which I am at present located at the greatest distance I have ever been from all that to me is dear. O, how I wish you all were here! Tell mother I should then be the happiest of the happy. "Give my love, with Mary Ann and Louisa's, to mother and all of the children. And now, dear father, expecting-anxiously expecting-a letter, "I am, as ever, your affectionate ELIZABETH." Twelve long years she had been the subject of unremitted affliction; and it is not remembered that she was ever heard impatiently to complain. Her last attack was sudden and severe. From this she partially recovered; and for a few days strong hopes were entertained that she would again enjoy her usual health, though she steadily insisted that she should not. Her relapse commenced with spasms, which, for several days, deprived her of reason. During this period, her characteristic affection for her family was strikingly manifested; and as soon as recollection returned, she clasped her mother in her arms, and again assured her that death was near, adding, "Why has father ceased to attend family worship in my room? I want to hear his sweet voice once more." She was told, in reply to her question, that the physicians thought talking in the room would injure her. "No," said she, "it will not hurt me. I cannot live more than a day or two at most, and I wish to improve the time. I wish the whole family to assemble in my room for prayer." She conversed with each one separately, kissing all, even her in |