PREACHED BY ITS ENEMIES. The Universalist faith is often made necessary by the preaching of those who regard it as downright infidelity. We often hear sermons from Orthodox lips, in which we rejoice as shadowing our glorious faith, till that faith is dogmatically denied in the closing appeal. Nor are these instances peculiar to any class of reputed Orthodox divines. They are common to all. Why, all writers and speakers, strike out the spark of Universalism every time they touch the divine character; which spark, however quickly they may smother it with their creed, cannot altogether escape the notice of discerning minds; and this the rather as the light of Christian civilization deepens. These same underlying elements of our faith are also frequently seen in the experience of the great observers and thinkers who detect new worlds, and new principles by which all worlds are governed. A Newton exploring the heavens, leaving stars and suns behind upon the high road by which he ascends toward the eternal, is a Universalist. A Franklin, towering to where the field of his vision broadens almost to infinity, is nothing else; while not a few of the profound of earth, accepting the popular view of the Bible without examination, have, like Humboldt perhaps, fallen off into skepticism as the alternative of endless woe. Such minds, untrammelled and free, have said, surely the soul gives no signs of such woe, and the author of this vast universe must have some better business than the inflicting of it. And some of the most learned and devoted ministers in the Orthodox church have frequently expressed opinions and hopes, that made the truth of Universalism absolutely necessary and certain. Dr. Adam Clark does this in speaking to his readers of the divine character, says, he "Do not suppose that God can destroy when he might save." But not to suppose this, is to suppose the essence of Universal Salvation. For God certainly can save all, whether by ordinary means, or, as in the case of Paul, extraordinary. If the divine power to save does not mean the ability to make men penitent, it would seem to mean very little. If it does mean that ability, then to suppose that Jehovah will not destroy where he can save, is to suppose Universalism. And I think the Doctor saw it so; for he says of what he had said, "it may even be against some portions of my own" creed. It was but the cropping out from his heart of the omnipresent element of Universalism. M'Cosh, in his learned, and in many respects excellent work on the "Divine Government Physical and Moral," says, "Tradition has delighted to converse and poetry to sing of a golden age as the commencing one in our world's history; and both have fondly looked forward to a time when all things are to be restored to their primitive state. But tradition retains only that portion of the truth which commends itself to the principles of the human heart, and true poetry sings in accordance with the native feelings, and philosophy should not pour contempt on the high expectations which form the noblest aspirations of human nature, and which we may suppose God would not have allowed to remain there if there was to be no means of gratifying them." Here is an appeal to original consciousness worthy of our author. Here his pen strikes down into those elements of humanity, in which the doctrine of Universal restoration has its original seat. And the same does it, when he says, "Among the withered leaves whereon we tread, there will be found the seeds of a coming renovation." A SKETCH FROM NATURE. Dr. Hitchcock describes a scene he witnessed at Amherst--a storm closing with a magnificent rainbowin language befitting the subject. The sultry and almost suffocating condition of the atmosphere in the forenoon forebode a thunder tempest in the afternoon. Accordingly the brazen thunder-heads began to shoot up magnificently along the western horizon, reposing upon dense darkness beneath. Higher and higher they mounted upwards as the sun declined, and at length he disappeared behind them, and the distant thunder began to mutter. Louder and louder did it roll along, causing the solid mountains to rock and tremble. The sharp and angry lightning, too, darted from cloud to cloud, and sometimes to the earth, and nature seemed waiting in stillness for the full force of the onset. At length we heard the roar of the wind and the rain, and in a few moments torrents of water were swept through the air, the trees reeled and bowed beneath the impulse, flash after flash of lightning in quick succession illuminated the darkened air, and an almost continued roar of thunder reminded the observer of his impotence when God unchains the elements. But ere long the fury of the tempest passed by, and we looked with relieved feelings upon the retiring cloud. Soon the blue sky appeared along the western horizon, the furious winds were hushed, the rain ceased, and the sun looked forth with a brighter and more joyous face, and spread a glory over the landscape unknown before. Then, too, the dark retiring cloud was lighted up by the magnificent rainbow, whose double and consentric arches arrested every eye and interested every heart not dead to nature's charms, nor insensible to the assurance thence derived, that though for a time the elements may be lashed into fury, the omnipotent God, who sits behind the elements, holds them in his fist, and will say to them, thus far shall ye go, but no further. Magnificent, indeed, was the scene that now spread itself before us. Along the eastern and southern horizon the black cloud was still extended, and over its face we still saw the flickering lightning play, and we heard the thunder dying away in the distance. The purified atmosphere gave a free passage to the horizontal rays of the sun, so that the whole landscape presented an unwonted distinctness of outline and richness of coloring; and it seemed as if we could almost touch the distant mountain-tops. On the south, the right hand extremity of the rainbow's arch appeared against the side of Mount Norwottuck, and its left hand extremity against Mount Lincoln, while its centre was occupied by college edifices, which never seemed so much honored as when surrounded by this coronal arch placed over them by God's hand. And then what a sunset followed! As the rainbow brightened and rose higher and higher with the sinking sun, all the space within its arch assumed the aspect of embossed gold, in fine contrast with the darker shades without the circle. And yet the clouds on every side changed their form and coloring continually; and the whole scene deepened in interest till the sun sank behind the hills; nor could the man of genuine taste turn away from the fascinating scene till the darkness hid it from his view. And even then, he knew that such a sunset, although a dark night might follow, is a sure harbinger of a glorious morning on the subsequent day: agreeably to the beautiful lines of Dr. Watts upon the setting sun: "And now the fair traveler's come to the west; His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best; He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest, And foretells a bright rising again." turn GOING HOME. Going home! What strong heartthrobs are caused by these two little words. You have been far away, new scenes and excitements have held you in their strong chains for a season, but at last you have tired of that great variety, and once more you face your homeward. How your eye lights up as familiar scenes are presented to you. There is the old farm house that you have known so long that you wonder the ivy has not completely hidden it from sight, while the roof has become mossgrown. And there is the old well. Did ever water taste so good from any other well? Did you ever taste such juicy fruit from any orchard? But that is your home no longer. Far away you are speeding, villages play hide and seek, and turn prim, sedate little Quakeresses, the silver threads, that have seemed to mark the earth into diagrams of all sizes and forms have passed away in the flowing river, the city's busy hum, the artizan's hammer, the tramp, tramp, and the rolling of wheels upon the pavement brings you nearer the loved ones-but alas! all is desolation! The blackness of despair has set tled upon that happy home. Oh! can it be that you shall no more meet the kiss of affection! Are those marble lips never again to part with the glad smile as of yore? Oh, heart, lie still; cease those wild throbs of anguish that almost banish reason! As you look upon that form where the life has burned out you seem to hear the angel whispers "gone before to a better home." But that does not ease your aching heart-it has put on the ashes of mourning. They have borne her away to the churchyard where her requiem is chanted by the storm-king-fit emblem of your desolation. But the world must have action, not grief; so banish sorrow, hide the agony down deep in the chambers of your heart; you once more enter the cold, cold world. A few friends, a great many enemies, a long life of labor, and you too are again going home. The past comes up to you in voiceless echoes, like the murmur of ocean shells, and as the breeze of memory sweeps across the chords of your soul, strain after strain is given forth until the low, sad wail of suffering appears upon your countenance and you murmur "to rest." Wearily the heavy eyelids close, silently the cold hands are folded, and over the lifeless form, upon the pure white marble is recorded, "At Home." WE never respect persons who aim simply to amuse us. There is a vast difference between those we call amusing men and those we denominate entertaining; we laugh with the former and reflect with the latter. NOT to him who sets out in the morning with resolutions and gallantry, but to him who holds out till the evening of life does the promise apply, "He that endureth to the end shall be saved."— Flavel. THE PIASA, OR INDIANS' DEVIL. We published an article in our Magazine for February, 1887, written by Prof. John Russell of Illinois, and published in the Magazine and Advocate of Utica, N. Y., in 1848, describing the Piasa, and his work and death. We now re-publish it, because we are able to give our readers a correct illustration of the kind of an animal the Indians had for a Devil. This devil, however, did not deal in fire and brimstone, nor use pitch-forks and chains; he was simply noted for devouring men. But they were fortunate enough to be able to kill their devil, and Prof. Russell tells us how it was done. His description is as follows: No part of the United States, not even the highlands of Hudson, can vie, in wild and romantic scenery, with the bluffs of Illinois. On one side of the river, often at the water's edge, a perpendicular wall of rock rises to the height of some hundred feet. Generally on the opposite shore is a level bottom or prairie of several miles in width, extending to a similar bluff that runs parallel with the river. One of these ranges commences at Alton, and extends with a few intervals for many miles along the left bank of the Illinois. In descending the river to Alton, the traveler will observe between that town and the mouth of the Illinois, a narrow ravine through which a small stream discharges its waters into the Mississippi. The stream is the Piasa. It name is Indian, and signifies in the Ilini, "the bird that devours men." Near the mouth of that stream, on the smooth and perpendicular face of the bluff, at an elevation which no human art can reach, is cut the figure of an enormous bird with its wings extended. The bird which this fig ure represents was called by the Indians, the Piasa, and from this is derived the name of the stream. The tradition of the Piasa is still current among all the tribes of the Upper Mississippi, and those who have inhabited the valley of the Illinois, and is briefly this: 66 Many thousand moons before the arrival of the pale faces, when the great magalonyx and mastodon, whose bones are now dug up were still living in this land of the green prairies, there existed a bird of such dimensions, that he could easily carry off in his talons a full-grown deer. Having obtained a taste for human flesh, from that time he would prey upon nothing else. He was artful as he was powerful, and would dart suddenly and unexpectedly upon an Indian, bear him off into one of the caves of the bluff, and devour him. Hundreds of warriors attempted for years to destroy him, but without success. Whole villages were nearly depopulated,and consternation spread through all the tribes of the Ilini. At length, Ouatogo, a chief, whose fame extended even beyond the great lakes, separating himself from the rest of his tribe, fasted in solitude for the space of the whole moon, and prayed to the great spirit, the master of life, that he would protect his children from the Piasa. On the last night of his fast the great spirit appeared to Ouatago in a dream; and directed him to select twenty of his warriors, each armed with a bow and poisoned arrow, and conceal them in a designated spot. Near the place of their concealment, another warrior was to stand in open view as a victim for the Piasa, which they must shoot the instant that he pounced upon his |