4 SPIRITUAL ENJOYMENT. heart, all are matters of little concern, if God be the strength of his heart and his portion for ever. "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?"* Here is thirsting of the soul, intense thirsting, similar to what the hunted hart feels for the water brooks, and this thirsting of soul is for God. "O Lord, I will praise thee: though thou wast angry with me thine anger is turned away and thou comfortedst me."+ Here is a synopsis of Christian experience: "thou wast angry "-conviction; "thine anger is turned away"-conversion; "thou comfortedst me"-spiritual joy. The apostle says, "For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God." Mark, there are two witnesses to the fact of the Christian's sonship, concurrent but separate, namely, God's Spirit, and our own. which these promises are made, the testimony of the Spirit of adoption witnessing with our spirits that we are the children of God," &c. [See Confession of Faith in the Church of Scotland, Edinburg, 1793.] Need I say that this was the doctrine of those holy men who have been raised up in later times to reform the Church, such as Wesley, Whitfield, Baxter, Edwards? Need I say that it is the doctrine of pious men of all denominations of all ages? In their testimony there is strange but entrancing harmony. Travel along the prime meridian, and halt at each line of latitude, to take the Christian experiencewalk round the equator, gathering the prayers and praises of converted souls in your march-descend the stream of ages, and pause as each tributary dis{ embogues, to catch the feelings of the disciples of Jesus-gather experience from the sons of the forest, or the children of philosophy-from prattling infancy, or hoary age-from sceptred royalty, or weeping beggary-you shall find the same story, uttered without concert or collusion, often in the same figures and words. The poor negro who, in the moment of conversion, pressing to his soul's lips some sweet promise of God's word, exclaimed, 'Sugar! sugar!" had probably never read of the royal poet who, in reference, may-be, to the same promise, cried out, "Sweeter than honey or the honey-comb." These individuals are generally such whose testimony would be taken in any court of justice. Among them we know there are some poor in this world's goods, though "rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom"-some ignorant in human philos 66 Such passages as this, written by the pen of inspiration, not in poetical but in didactic composition, and from a mind remarkably exact and argumentative, are not only inexplicable, but nugatory, nay, absurd, upon any other hypothesis than that of an immediate intercourse between God and the human soul. Perhaps some may say, we do not deny that such an intercourse is the privilege of distinguished believers; but we deny that it is general. But the words of the apostle John, in his first Epistle, v, 10,ophy, though wise unto salvation. But the children ought to occasion instant retraction of such denial: "He that believeth on the Son of God, hath the witness in himself." This witness, then, is the privilege of every believer. The passages already quoted are not rare ones they are specimens of a numerous class in the word of God-so numerous, that they glitter in the pages of revelation as the stars in the firmament-all over. Nor is the interpretation we have given to them new. The doctrine of an intimate communion, or fellowship, between saints and angels and God, was held by both the Latin and Greek fathers-was revived, from time to time, by those lights which shot, meteor-like, through the gloom of dark ages-Barnard, Huss, Jerome of Prague, &c. It was maintained by the reformers-Knox, Wickliffe, Melancthon, Luther, Calvin, &c. Notice the creeds which grew out of their controversies with mother Church. As a familiar specimen, we quote the Presbyterian Confession of Faith. Speaking of assurance, it says: "This, certainly, is not a bare conjectural and probable persuasion, grounded upon an infallible hope; but an infallible assurance of faith founded upon the truth of the promises of salvation, the inward evidence of those graces unto * Psalms xiii, 1, 2. Isaiah xii, 1. Romans viii, 15, 16. of the heavenly King are not all in the walks of humble life. He who was cradled amid the praises of the wise, and entombed in the sepulchre of the rich, has never been without homage from the noble of the earth. The voices of lawyers the most acute, philosophers the most profound, metaphysicians the most distinguished, and rulers the most renowned, have swelled the chorus of that blessed testimony which fills the valleys and echoes through the skies. This testimony is often given under the most affecting and solemn circumstances. It is in the temple of God, while invoking the Divine presence and scrutiny, that the Christian is generally called on to detail his experience. An oath is considered adequate to bind a bad man to the truth; and what does an oath do, but impose a religious obligation? and what greater religious obligation can be imposed than that under which the Christian solemnly utters the feelings of his soul? We have heard it uttered under circumstances of the severest affliction. When poverty, and disease, and bereavement, and reproach combined to sink the soul, and when the faithless cried in the ear of the sufferer, "Curse God and die," yes, then has the soul risen high, and exclaimed, in firm tones, "I know that my Redeemer liveth." Go, ye who doubt the power of God's grace to sus SPIRITUAL ENJOYMENT. 5 the Mormons, when they emigrated to the banks of the Mississippi to build Nauvoo, were deluded. 66 tain the soul, to the cottage of some poor, suffering Christian. What motive can man have, under such circumstances, to deceive his fellow-man? We have 2. They are in conformity with Scripture. The heard it in the near view of death, yea, even in death Holy Spirit's office is to call to remembrance and itself. The martyr has uttered it on his way to apply whatsoever Christ hath said; and although the stake he hath spoken it from the red flames he will "guide into all truth," and "show things to that were consuming his body. Ye may hear it come," yet he shall not speak of himself; but from almost every Christian death-bed. The dying whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak." "He Payson said, "I can lie here and see these convul- shall glorify me," says the Savior; "for he shall resions rise higher and higher; but my soul is happy,ceive of mine, and shall show it unto you." By unspeakably happy. I seem to swim in a flood of glory, which God pours down upon me." Sometimes the soul, at the gate of heaven, is not permitted, through disease, or the influence of narcotics, to give its dying testimony; but when a lucid interval precedes his transit to the skies, the dying saint leaves his testimony in such language as this: "Jesus can make a dying bed Feel soft as downy pillows are ; And breathe my life out sweetly there." Now who doubts the truth of statements of fact made by dying men? Who can imagine that a rational mortal will rush into the presence of God with a lie upon his lips! overlooking this fact, the visionaries of the school But one may say we must consider the contrary testimony. There is none: in the nature of the case there can be none. If I testify to feeling, certified by my consciousness, who can testify to the contrary, save the "Searcher of hearts?" "But there are thousands of the race who declare that they have never felt the influence of God's Spirit." Granted. Their testimony is negative, while the Christian's is affirmative; and one affirmative, well established, outweighs a million negatives, aye, is unaffected byings. them. Suppose a company of men testify that, on the night of the ninth of November last, while gazing { who habitually violates any known duty can be at the heavens from a certain eminence, they saw a shower of meteoric stones descend; and suppose, further, that these men have character for veracity, and reputation for philosophy-would their testimo-arately, some of these tests may be fallible; but col ny be the least affected, if all the rest of the world should testify that they did not see the shower? But perhaps the objector may respond, "Christians are not always philosophers." True; nor is the matter of their testimony one of philosophy, but of consciousness. "But are they not still liable to be deceived, seeing that we know but little of the laws of mind or of the spiritual world; for how shall we distinguish between an impression of our own spirit, or of some created spirit, and an influence from God?" By the following tests: 4. They secure Scriptural obedience. No man in communion with the Holy Spirit. Multitudes of false prophets have overlooked this test in determining the question of their inspiration. Taken sep lectively, they are irresistibly conclusive. But it may be objected that this doctrine is mysterious. Not more so than natural phenomena. Tell me whence cometh the wind, and whither goeth it-tell me how it is that the union of two gases, oxygen and hydrogen, constitute water: or that the same elements, oxygen and nitrogen, in certain proportions, constitute the air we breathe, and in different proportions, nitric acid, a material so corrosive as to have received the denomination, aqua-fortis; or why it is that a magnetic needle has a tendency to revolve around a wire, transmitting an electric current when brought in contact with it-in short, tell me what induction or electricity is, and I will attempt to remove your diffi 1. The Holy Spirit's influences have reference only to the redemption of the soul, not to the establishment of communities, the building of cities, the marching of armies, or any other worldly operations. It was by overlooking this fact that Jemi-culty, founded upon the mysteriousness of commuma Wilkinson, when she led colonists to the "gardennion with God. of the new world" to establish a New Jerusalem, and But it is said, "Is not this Mysticism?" Nay, 6 BRADDOCK'S GRAVE. nay. Mysticism was the result of an infusion of the Platonic philosophy with Christianity. This philosophy taught that human reason was an emanation from God, and comprehended all the elements of truth; and that, by closing the avenues of sense, turning away from human affairs, and exhausting the body, the spirit returns to God, and, in inexpressible raptures, contemplates undisguised and uncorrupted truth. These enchanting notions were somewhat modified through the views of the Mystics, who ingrafted upon them the notions of entire, disinterested devotion to God, and freedom from all selfish considerations. Reader, do you enjoy comforts springing from communion with God? O, how dreadful the condition of a soul "without God in the world." Better be without food, without raiment, without shelter, without an immortal soul. How fearful that voluntary blindness which can meet God at all points for twenty, thirty, forty years, without ever seeing him! How wonderful that hellish chemistry which can keep the soul perpetually insulated amid incessant currents of holy influence! How amazing that diving-bell of depravity which enables a sinner to live, and move, and breathe in God for a long lifetime, without ever feeling the transforming influence of his Spirit! In such a state, how could a soul enjoy heaven? But I address some to whom spiritual enjoyments are not strange. Blessed are ye; for "the Spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you." BRADDOCK'S GRAVE. IN crossing the Alleghany mountains, during the past autumn, it was my privilege to have daylight a large portion of the way. This gave me a fine opportunity of witnessing "autumn's home amid the mountain passes." Nothing can exceed the beauty of the mountain scenery at this season of the year. The evergreen hemlock, pine, and cedar, blend their hues with the crimson-colored leaves of the dogwood and gum; while the russet-brown of the oak, and the delicately varied shades of the maple, fading from a scarlet to a lemon, combine their power to increase the beauty: and a thousand other shrubs and trees, of various shade and hue, commingle their efforts to throw a kind of enchantment over the whole. I was engaged in contemplating in silence a scene like this, when a fellow-passenger in the stage made some remark about Braddock's grave. The sound arrested my attention; and on looking up I saw, near the roadside, a finger-board nailed to a tree, bearing those significant words. Following with my eye the direction indicated, I saw, at a short distance, a small inclosure made with pales. And here, in this lone spot, amid the mountains, without monument or tablet, to record his history or exploits, lies all that remains of General Braddock. I had just before been contemplating the loveliness of the dying year; and my feelings were deeply impressed with the evanescence of every thing terrestrial. I had thought of death. But it was death among friends. My own mortality had passed before me; but my dying couch was surrounded by weeping survivors: a sister, a brother, a parent, stood at my head to wipe the dew of death from my brow, and close my eyes when the soul had ceased to shine through them. I was at home, and amid friends. But here was a sudden change made in the course of my thoughts; for I had the evidence before my eyes that a man might die alone, and far from home and friends, with none to weep at his departure, and no lament made at his grave, save the mournful note of the whip-poor-will, and the melancholy sighing of the evening breeze! The history and the fate of Braddock, are full of mournful interest. He was an English general, sent to this country for its protection against the savages of the wilderness. He was unaccustomed to Indian warfare, and rigidly adhered to European tactics. With young Washington, as a lieutenant, he made his last fatal engagement with the red men of the forest. The scene of this engagement was near the banks of the Monongahela, several miles above the present city of Pittsburg. The history of "Braddock's defeat," is too well known to every one who has read the life of the father of his country, to need a repetition here. Suffice it to say, that his army fell like leaves in an autumnal storm, before the fire of a concealed enemy. General Braddock, wounded in the engagement, barely escaped with his life. Twelve of his soldiers were taken prisoners, and carried by the Indians to Fort Du Quesne. Here, after running the gauntlet, they were painted black, and miserably and inhumanly burnt to death by their savage conquerors. The General himself made an effort to reach the settlements in Virginia, but perished among the mountains on his way thither. For a number of years his final resting place was undiscovered. But tradition marks out the spot described above, as his place of sepulture; and, apparently, with sufficient reason. What a lesson does the last scene of Braddock's life impart to the votary of ambition! He toiled hard for fame. He exposed himself to danger and to death to gain the soldier's wreath; and, doubtless, expected that when he fell, a weeping nation's sighs would be his requiem; while a chaplet of unfading laurel would encircle his memory. And yet, on the cold mountain's brow he found his tomb; and the only tablet which commemorates his departure is the granite cliff, chiseled by the finger of the mountain tempest! Truly, thus passes away this world and all its glory. Blessed are they, and only they, who seek an enduring renown, by enrolling their names, not upon the escutcheon of fame, but in the Lamb's book of life. G. W. DR. HOUGHTON. BY THE EDITOR. DR. HOUGHTON. In personal appearance he was far from commanding. He was of short stature, slender form, light hair, and effeminate features; but his head was long physically as well as metaphysically, and his eye keen and animated. In nearly all these respects he resembled the Stagirite. Well educated, both academically and professionally, he found a welcome and a home in the west, where he entered upon the practice of medicine-an employment well suited to his talents. His mind was not contemplative, nor ideal, nor metaphysical, but eminently practical. His thoughts rested upon the outer world, rarely glancing at the upper or the inner. Largely endowed with the perceptive powers, he was not deficient in the reflective; but he used the latter chiefly to compare, to classify, to generalize; and when he reasoned, it was by induction rather than analogy. He was little inclined to the fine arts: he cared more for the quarry than the column; the song of the wind, than that of the muses. For a priori reasoning, and metaphysical investigations in general, he had a sort of contempt. Passing with me one day through the library of the University of Michigan, he pointed to Kant, when the following dialogue ensued: Dr. H. "Do you know President M. of Ohio?" Dr. H. "I once took him through my cabinet, showing all its beauties, and attracting his attention; but I could not elicit from him one expression of approbation or delight. After I had wearied myself in vain, we came to the library, when seizing upon Kant, as if he had found a gold mine, he cried with rapture, Ah! here is the thing-have you ever read it, Dr. Houghton?' 'Enough of it,' I replied, 'to know that the author did not understand what he was writing about.' Now, sir, any man who can prefer a volume of metaphysics to the beautiful works of God that we have collected in that cabinet, from the three kingdoms of nature, is a simpleton." Dr. Houghton was distinguished rather for intensity than power of mental action. He differed from Franklin as the galvanic trough of many small plates differs from the calorimotor of two large ones. The one goes through obstacles with a shock, the other calmly consumes them. And then Dr. Houghton had an amazing celerity of movement in mind as well as muscle: he could form and execute a judgment at a moment's notice. His labors were unremitted. Inheriting a good constitution from nature, he strengthened it by industry and temperance; hence, his health and cheerfulness were rarely 7 disturbed. He had mechanical genius, which was of great service to him in dentistry, surgery, the laboratory, and the geological survey. He was one of the few favored chemists who excel both as lecturers and experimenters. Medical practice, it seems, did not afford him sufficient excitement, for he spent his summers, during the last fifteen years, in exploring expeditions in the northwest. Having an enthusiastic love of nature, an indomitable perseverance, a remarkable faculty for observation, and a good foundation of elementary knowledge, he soon became distinguished as a naturalist, and his talents were called into requisition both by the state and general governments. Before his death, he had acquired a knowledge of the regions of his investigation which no other man has, and which, may-be, ages of exploring will be necessary to recover. In many respects, he was an exception among students. They are generally slovenly, he was remarkably neat; students are usually negligent in pecuniary interests, he was keen-sighted. I believe he passed safely, and more, through the speculating mania, which ruined so many of his neighbors; and if I am not greatly mistaken, he had been, for years, rapidly accumulating wealth. Men distinguished for science rarely meddle with government: he, like Arago, often moved the capital by his political manœuvres. We blame him not for this, for he turned all his political power to the advancement of science. It would be well for the country if more of our scientific minds had influence at Washington. He was remarkably courteous. Whatever were his engagements-whether drawing draughts, arranging his cabinet, poring over some new work, with animated eye and fervid mind, or making out a report for the government, he instantly suspended his labors to welcome his guest with cheerfulness and cordiality. How different from the ordinary student. If you happen to call upon him when his thinking-cap sits uncomfortably upon his brow, or when, having finished the labors of the day, he wishes to calm his mind for the repose of the night; or if you come to introduce to him a favorite author, or some means to facilitate his enchanting study, or some scientific news of deep interest to him, you may expect a smiling countenance. But, perchance, he has a systematic method— {assigning one definite period of the day to Greek, another to natural science, another to composition, another to devotion, and the rest to domestic and worldly duties, and the enjoyment of society: now suppose you call upon him at one of his sacred periods, or drop in for foolish chit-chat just as he is in the midst of important and perplexing problems, or when under an inspiration he has never felt before, and may never feel again, he is driving his pen over pages of light, what sort of reception will he give you? He may not treat you rudely, for intelligence implies politeness; but he will treat you coolly; and the more you strive to talk him into a good humor the darker will his brow become. And no wonder: would the miser be pleasant if you thrust your hand into his coffers to abstract his gold? Time is the student's gold, or rather his philosopher's stone, with which he transmutes every thing into gold. Dr. Houghton, however, was always lively, always cordial. If he wished to get rid of a troublesome guest, he would do it with a sweet ingenuity, which, while it increased your admiration of his genius, would not diminish your estimation of his friendship; but, generally, when oppressed with company in study hours, he preferred, after making a pleasant apology, to work and talk together: a twofold task which few men are able to perform. To ministers of the Gospel, he was peculiarly kind, respectful, and hospitable. Besides contributing his full share to the support of the Gospel in several Churches, I have known him occasionally to slip a ten dollar bill into the hands of a clergyman, in such a way as to illustrate the direction, "Let not thy right hand know what thy left hand doth;" nor was this with any sinister intention, for his ambition was not for popular favor. He was a man of dauntless courage. Though very small in person, he seemed to fear nothing when in the discharge of duty, or the pursuit of knowledge. He was at home in the wilderness, and knew how to control the wild beast and the wilder savage. He stood fearless with his hammer on the solitary sand beach, or the lonely reef, far away from the utmost verge of civilization. Foremost he walked in the hour of danger: firmly he held his helm, and raised the voice of encouragement amid the white caps when the hardy voyagers trembled. Nor mountain, nor rock, nor storm, nor stream, was a passless barrier to his adventurous footsteps. We often apply the term courage to pusillanimity, ferocity, and even madness; but, surely, we use it properly when we apply it to the man who toils, at the risk of life, to discover and develop the resources of a country, and thus multiply the means of human support and human happiness. Dr. Houghton's death was eminently characteristic. He was in pursuit of science-on a dangerous voyage. When the sailors said, "We had better go ashore," he replied, "We had better go on." The storm increases-the breakers dash-a sailor significantly hands him a life-preserver, but he lays it by his side: a heavy sea fills the vessel—it is baled out, and followed by another-the boat capsizes-a sailor ascends from the water and seizes the keel: on looking round, he sees the geologist and draws him up. Even under these circumstances, Dr. Houghton's courage and hope fail not. Mark, too, his nobility of spirit. Addressing the sailor, he says, "Never mind me, Peter, try to go ashore if you can. go ashore well enough." I will Perhaps some may deem him to have been imprudent and rash; but we should beware how we censure. In his fifteen years' experience in similar excursions, I have no doubt he often escaped under circumstances of even greater apparent peril. Wilson, the ornithologist, died from the ardent pursuit of a rare bird, of which he had long been in search. But who would convict him of imprudence before considering his character, and the circumstances in which he was placed. Of Dr. Houghton's religious character, although long acquainted with him, I can say but little. He was no Atheist: he repudiated Atheism as the grossest absurdity. The pages of nature, which he was continually studying, were to him so many hymns of praise to God. He was no Deist. He never expressed to me any doubts of the authenticity and divine authority of the holy Scriptures. He was not heterodox in his views of religious doctrine. The last time I saw him, he said to me very earnestly, "I believe in the doctrine you preached last Sabbath." The sermon was on total depravity, and the necessity of regeneration. His mind was too philosophical to admit this doctrine and deny its dependent ones. He was no stranger to religious thought or feeling. This he directly assured me in the conversation just alluded to. "But," he exclaimed, "how can I attend to religion in the whirlpool of business!" "Insufficient excuse," I replied. "David with his immense kingdom found time for devotion. Daniel, with the concerns of a hundred and twenty provinces upon his hands, could kneel down to pray, morning, noon, and night." Alas! how many professing Christians devote themselves, with a zeal no less ardent, and an effort no less constant, to much less dignified and useful pursuits, and with far less worthy motives. Let the reader see that she estimate more correctly the worth of an immortal soul, the pleasures of religion, and the treasures of the skies. Men, such as Dr. Houghton, have often more religious feeling than they are willing to admit, or we are willing to allow them. For aught we know, there may have been moments of anguish when he bowed before the cross, and sent out an arm of faith, and felt something within him far better and holier than a sentimental or philosophical admiration of the Almighty. May we not hope that, when the fires of the final day shall shine, not only through the history of the world, but also through that of the hearts of all the rational beings who shall have been its inhabitants, we may see reason why the Divine Being may, under the plan of redemp{tion, welcome the subject of this brief article to the world of light. Our acquaintance with Dr. Houghton terminated sometime since. He may have become truly and publicly religious since that period, as he had a beautiful exemplification of the beauty and divinity of the Gospel in his own happy family. |