Review and Herald, Vol. 59, No. 13. (3/28/1882)

Review and Herald

Mar 28, 1882

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 28, 1882

WHERE ARE WE DRIFTING?

By Ellen G. White

BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.

SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTISTS profess to believe that the day of this world's history is far spent, and the night is at hand. Should we then manifest greater earnestness and zeal in the service of God as the end draws nigh, or may we now relax our energies, and participate in the pursuits and pleasures of the world? The Lord has ever required his people to show in all their habits of life a marked difference between themselves and worldlings. Even if the end were not near, it would be the duty of every Christian to be true to his profession of faith, and by an example of simplicity and self-denial, to rebuke the pride and selfishness of the ungodly. How much more, then, is it incumbent upon this people to manifest unfailing zeal and consecration to God. If when we first heard the message of warning we endeavored to live in accordance with our faith, if the convictions of the Holy Spirit led us to shun the habits and fashions of the world, should we not be more earnest and zealous and faithful now that we are so much nearer the great consummation?

The apostle Paul looking down to our day, declares, “It is high time to awake out of sleep; for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” And again, “The night is far spent, the day is at hand. Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light. Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting, and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfill the lusts thereof.” These words plainly set forth our duty. Every year is shortening our probation, and bringing us nearer the coming of our Lord. We should now put forth every energy to prepare for the great event. This life at the longest is represented as a vapor, which soon passes away. Its treasures, its honors, and its joys are transitory and uncertain. If we live for God and the immortal future, we shall secure all that is worth the having.

Only by our life can we prove to the world the genuineness of our solemn faith. But if the coming of Christ is indeed nearer than when we believed, why has there been such a change in the conduct of many? Why are they so careless, so indifferent to the teachings of God's word, so regardless of his claims upon them? Why are they seeking to unite with those whose influence would divert their minds from God, and from a preparation for eternity? It is the love of the world that leads to the neglect of eternal interests. “Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light.” This is our work. Let us not be diverted from it by the world's allurements, nor disheartened by its revilings. “Now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.” We have not long to work. Our time, our talents, are too precious to be buried in the world.

A great responsibility rests upon all who have received the light of truth, and especially upon those to whom the people look for instruction and guidance. Those who occupy positions of responsibility in our institutions are exerting an influence scarcely less potent and wide-spread than that of our ministers. They should be men and women of moral worth and of deep and living experience in the things of God. By their influence and example they are either proclaiming to the world the truths we hold or declaring these truths to be of none effect.

The fearful effect of a worldly, unconsecrated influence at the head of the work is felt by our own people throughout the land. An instance of this came under my own notice not long since. A sister who had spent some weeks at one of our institutions in Battle Creek, said that she felt much disappointed in what she saw and heard there. She had thought to find a people far in advance of the younger churches, both in knowledge of the truth and in religious experience. Here she hoped to gain much instruction which she could carry to her sisters in the faith in a distant State. But she was surprised and pained at the lightness, the worldliness, and lack of devotion which she met on every hand.

Before accepting the truth, she had followed the fashions of the world in her dress, and had worn costly jewelry and other ornaments; but upon deciding to obey the word of God, she felt that its teachings required her to lay aside all extravagant and superfluous adorning. She was taught that Seventh-day Adventists did not wear jewelry, gold, silver, or precious stones, and that they did not conform to worldly fashions in their dress. When she saw among those who profess the faith such a wide departure from Bible simplicity, she felt bewildered. Had they not the same Bible which she had been studying, and to which she had endeavored to conform her life? Had her past experience been mere fanaticism? Had she misinterpreted the words of the apostle, “The friendship of the world is enmity with God, for whosoever will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God”?

Mrs. D., a lady occupying a position in the institution, was visiting at Sr. ——'s room one day, when the latter took out of her trunk a gold necklace and chain, and said she wished to dispose of this jewelry and put the proceeds into the Lord's treasury. Said the other, “Why do you sell it? I would wear it if it was mine.” “Why,” replied Sr. ——, “when I received the truth, I was taught that all these things must be laid aside. Surely they are contrary to the teachings of God's word.” And she cited her hearer to the words of the apostles, Paul and Peter, upon this point, “In like manner, also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array; but, as becometh women professing godliness, with good works.” “Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel. But let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.”

In answer, the lady displayed a gold ring on her finger, given her by an unbeliever, and said she thought it no harm to wear such ornaments. “We are not so particular,” said she, “as formerly. Our people have been over-scrupulous in their opinions upon the subject of dress. The ladies of this institution wear gold watches and gold chains, and dress like other people. It is not good policy to be singular in our dress; for we cannot exert so much influence.”

We inquire, Is this in accordance with the teachings of Christ? Are we to follow the word of God, or the customs of the world? Our sister decided that it was safest to adhere to the Bible standard. Will Mrs. D. and others who pursue a similar course be pleased to meet the result of their influence, in that day when every man shall receive according to his works?

God's word is plain. Its teachings cannot be mistaken. Shall we obey it, just as he has given it to us, or shall we seek to find how far we can digress and yet be saved? Would that all connected with our institutions would receive and follow the divine light, and thus be enabled to transmit light to those who walk in darkness.

Conformity to the world is a sin which is sapping the spirituality of our people, and seriously interfering with their usefulness. It is idle to proclaim the warning message to the world, while we deny it in the transactions of daily life. I have received letters of inquiry concerning some of these things. One brother states that a few years ago he had money to build a new house, but a call came for means to sustain our institutions. He felt that these institutions were the Lord's, and he said to his wife, “It is true that our house is old and decaying; we need a plain, healthful house; but if you will agree to it, I will send this money to meet the call for means, and we will live on as we have done.

Our house is inconvenient, and not always comfortable, but Jesus had not where to lay his head. If the Lord of glory could leave the royal mansion for a life of toil and poverty, those for whom he suffered and died should not complain of hardships. We have far more than he had.”

“Not long since,” says our brother, “the question of having a new house again came up. Again we prayed about it. We saw in the paper that our institutions were in debt. We could send this time easier than before; for that came rather hard on us. Now, we thought, we are several years nearer the end than when we sent our first offering. We will not indulge ourselves, and let our institutions suffer.”

He adds: “I cannot harmonize with the experience I have had in the course of some at Battle Creek. Those who are expounding the word of God to others are building large, expensive dwellings like the worldlings around them. What does this mean? I am not sorry that I put into the cause what I did; but I cannot interpret these things. Unbelievers taunt me with them, and laugh at my faith. Are not some of our brethren saying, ‘My Lord delayeth his coming’? If they really believed that time is short, would they invest so much in their dwellings? One house is finished very fancifully, at considerable expense, and yet the owner is preaching that Christ is soon coming. What shall we do when our responsible men give us such an example? Please answer through the REVIEW. Persons question me about these matters every day, and I am at a loss how to answer.”

My brother, tell them that however the professed followers of Christ may depart from his instructions, “Nevertheless, the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his.” You ask if Sr. White's testimony from God does not reprove these things. I answer, It does. The Lord has given warning and reproof to prevent this very state of things. The testimonies of God's word and of his Spirit have alike been disregarded. This is why there is such backsliding among us,—so little of the life and power of true godliness.

It may be necessary for our brethren at Battle Creek to build more commodious houses than they would need elsewhere; for there are several hundred students to find homes among them. But we have no apology to offer for those who are expending in the indulgence of worldliness and pride the means which God has intrusted to their hands. As a people we should be distinct from the world. We should be separating ourselves more and more from that state of things which Christ describes as characteristic of a former age, and which made that people ripe for the vengeance of God. The world before the flood were wholly engrossed in the things of this life, in the gratification of their own desires. Just such a condition existed in Sodom before its destruction. How dangerous, how presumptuous, then, for us to enter the same path which has led so many to ruin!

Let none think to find, even at the great heart of the work, a faultless people. Christ himself has taught us that the gospel net gathers of every kind, and these are not wholly separated until the Judgment. Those who seek to maintain the standard of spirituality in that large church have difficulties to encounter of which our smaller churches know little. We must expect to be thrown in contact with unconsecrated and world-loving professors of godliness. But none need stumble over the example of even their brethren in the faith. We have one unerring Pattern. Says Christ, “He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”

THE LOOM OF LIFE.

By E. E. E.

ALL day, all night, I can hear the jar Of the loom of life; and near and far It thrills with its deep and muffled sound As the tireless wheels go always around. Busily, ceaselessly goes the loom In the light of day and the midnight gloom; The wheels are turning early and late, And the woof is wound in the warp of fate.

Click, click! there's a thread of love wove in! Click, click! and another of wrong and sin! What a checkered thing this life will be When we see it unrolled in eternity!

Time, with a face like a mystery, And hands as busy as hands can be, Sits at the loom with its warp outspread, To catch in its meshes each glancing thread. When shall this wonderful web be done? In a few more years, perhaps, or one, Or to-morrow. Who knoweth? Not you nor I, But the wheels turn on, and the shuttles fly.

Ah! sad-eyed weaver, the years are slow, But each one is nearer the end, I know. And some day the last thread shall be woven in, God grant it be love instead of sin. Are we spinners of woof for this life-web—say? Do we furnish the weaver a thread each day? It were better, then, O my friend, to spin A beautiful thread, than a thread of sin. —E. E. E., in Musical Globe.

ONENESS WITH CHRIST.

By Hannah Whitall Smith

(Concluded.)

AND now for the application. First of all the warning, and then the comfort.

The warning I address to the emotional natures among my readers. Dear friends, you are in great danger of being deceived by the very things upon which you rest most confidingly. Your emotions, which are such a joy to you, are likely to become pitfalls. You feel so near Christ and so united to him, that you think it must be real; and overlooking the absolute necessity of Christ-likeness of character and walk, you are building your hopes and your confidence on your delighted emotions and exalted feelings, and think you must be one with him, or you could not have such rich and holy experiences.

Now it is a psychological fact that these or similar emotions can be produced by other causes than a purely divine influence, and that they are largely dependent upon temperament and physical conditions. It is most dangerous, therefore, to make them a test of your spiritual union with Christ. It may result in just such a grievous self-deception as our Lord warns us against in Luke 6: 46–49: “And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?” Your soul delights, perhaps, in calling him, Lord, Lord, but are you doing the things which he said? for this is the important point, after all, he tells us.

If, therefore, led by your feelings, you are saying in meetings, or among your friends, or even in your own heart before the Lord, that you are abiding in him, let me entreat of you to take home to yourself in solemn consideration, these words of the Holy Ghost, “He that saith he abideth in him, ought himself so to walk even as he walked.”

Unless you are thus walking, you cannot possibly be abiding in him, no matter how much you may feel as if you were.

If you want to know what sort of a walk you will have to be, 1 Peter 2: 20–23 will tell you: “For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently? If, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God. For even hereunto were ye called; because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps, who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously.”

If, therefore, you follow in his steps, you must be sweet to those who are cross to you; you must bear everything and make no complaints; when you are reviled you must not revile again; you must consent to be trampled on, as Christ was, and feel nothing but love in return; you must seek the honor of others rather than your own; you must take the lower place, and be the servant of all, as Christ was; you must literally and truly love your enemies, and do good to them that despitefully use you; you must, in short, live a Christ-like life, and manifest outwardly as well as feel inwardly Christ-like spirit, and must walk among men as he walked among them. This, dear friends, is what it is to be one with Christ. And if this is not your life according to your measure, then you are not one with him, no matter how ecstatic or exalted your feelings may be. This is my lesson of warning.

The lesson of comfort comes next, and is addressed to the unemotional natures among my readers.

The grief of your life is probably just the fact that you have so few good feelings. You try your hardest to get up the feelings which you hear others talking about, but they will not come. You pray for them fervently, and are often tempted to upbraid God because he does not grant them to you. And you are filled with an almost unbearable anguish because you think your want of emotion is a sign that there is not any interior union of your soul with Christ. You judge altogether by your feelings, and think there is no other way to judge.

Now my advice to you is to let your feelings go, and pay no regard to them whatever. They really have nothing to do with the matter. They are not the indicators of your spiritual state, but are merely the indicators of your temperament, or of your present physical condition. People of very low states of grace are often the subjects of very powerful emotional experiences. We know this from the scenes we have heard of and witnessed at camp-meetings and revivals. I myself had a colored girl once who would become unconscious under the power of her wonderful experiences, whenever there was a revival meeting at their church, who yet had hardly a token of any spiritual life about her at other times, and who was, in fact, not even moral. Now surely, if the Bible teaches nothing else, it does teach this, that a Christ-like life and a walk must accompany any experience which is really born of his Spirit. It could not be otherwise in the very nature of things. But I fear some Christians have separated the two things so entirely in their conceptions as to have exalted their experiences at the expense of their life, and have come to care far more about their emotions than about their character.

A certain colored congregation in one of the Southern States was a plague to the whole neighborhood by their open disregard of even the ordinary rules of morality,—stealing, and lying, and cheating without apparently a single prick of conscience on the subject. And yet their nightly meetings were times of the greatest emotion and “power.” Some one finally spoke

to the preacher about it, and begged him to preach a sermon on morality, which would lead his people to see their sins. “Ah, missus,” he replied, “I know dey’s bad, but den it always brings a sadness like over de meetins when I preaches ’bout dem things.”

I am afraid this paper of mine may bring a “sadness like” over some who will read it. But I cannot help that. The truth must be told, and souls must be warned of their danger, unwelcome as it may be to them at first. And for you, dear friends, who are so devoid of emotions, and are so grieved over it, let it comfort you to know that the vital thing, after all, is character and not emotions, and if you have the first you may well afford to do without the last, if God does not see fit to grant them to you. You are helpless as to your emotions, but character you can have if you will; for God always responds with his divine help to any honest reaching out after righteousness. You can be sweet, and gentle, and true, and upright, and forgiving, and long-suffering, and yielding, and unassuming, and self-sacrificing; you can be delivered from a judging and critical spirit; you can be filled with a Christ-like love for humanity, and with that charity that “suffereth long and is kind;” that “envieth not, vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”

What you have to do, then, is to let your feelings and experiences go, and turn your attention to your character and your life. Seek to be Christ-like, and not merely to feel that you are. Commit the regulation of your frames and feelings to him, and let him give you such as he sees best for you. Let your only concern be to obey him and walk in his footsteps, for this is the only important thing after all. Your feelings may be a matter of great moment to you, but they are of no account to God, and do not in the least touch the question of your relations with him.

I am sure if you will only look at the matter in a reasonable way, your own common sense will tell you that all I have said is true, and you will see that to be one with Christ is too wonderful, and solemn, and mighty an experience to be reached by any overflow or exaltation of mere feeling. He was holy, and those who are one with him will be holy also. There is no escape from this simple and obvious fact.

When our Lord tried to make us understand his oneness with God, he expressed it in such words as these, “I do always the things that please him.” “Whatsoever he saith unto me, that I do.” “The Son can do nothing of himself, but what he seeth the Father do; for what things soever he doeth, these also doeth the Son likewise.” “I can of mine own self do nothing: as I hear I judge, and my judgment is just; because I seek not mine own will, but the will of him that sent me.” “If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not. But if I do, though ye believe me not, believe the works; that ye may know and believe that the Father is in me and I in him.” The test of oneness then was the doing of the same works, and this is the test of oneness now. And if our Lord could say of himself that if he did not the works of his Father he did not ask to be believed, no matter what professions or claims he might make, surely his disciples must do no less.

It is forever true in the nature of things that “a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.” It is not that they will not, but they cannot. And a soul that is one with Christ will just as surely bring forth a Christ-like life, as a grape-vine will bring forth grapes and not thistles.

Not that I would be understood to object to emotions. On the contrary, I believe they are very precious gifts when they are from God, and are to be greatly rejoiced in. But what I do object to is the making them a test or proof of spiritual states, either in ourselves or others, and depending on them as the foundation of our faith. Let them come or let them go just as God pleases, and make no account of them either way. But always see to it that the really vital marks of oneness with Christ, the marks of likeness in character, and life, and walk, are ours, and all will be well. For “he that saith I know him, and keepeth not his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him. But whoso keepeth his word, in him verily is the love of God perfected: hereby know we that we are in him.”—Mrs. Hannah Whitall Smith.

Think of Something to Say

—Some one writes to a paper, excusing his silence in the conference meeting by saying: “I have always had a prejudice in favor of waiting until I had something to say, and thought I knew what I was going to talk about.” This habit may induce what Sydney Smith calls “brilliant flashes of silence;” but instead of a habit of waiting, is not the habit of thinking of something to say better?

POOR FARMING.

By Dudley Marvin Canright

BY ELD. D. M. CANRIGHT.

I once knew two farmers in Kinderhook, Mich., where I lived, who farmed it on opposite plans. Mr. A. was a very ambitious, energetic man. He was always anxious to do large things, —to have big fields of grain, and run a large business. But in his haste, he did not do his work well. He would only skim over the top of the ground, when he ought to have plowed deep. He would put in fifty acres of corn, when he was able to cultivate properly only twenty-five. In consequence, the corn would be left to grow among weeds. He would get but half a crop, and this of a poor quality. His teams were overworked and often injured. Everything was done in a hurry and behind time. Hence the profit of labor and land was largely lost. The result was that he finally lost his farm and became a poor man, all by trying to do too much, and so doing it poorly.

Mr. B. took an entirely different course. He did all of his work well, extra good. He would plough deep, narrow furrows, and put in only fifteen acres where A. had fifty; but this he would have in on time and in the most careful manner. Not a weed was allowed to grow, nor too many stalks in a hill. He would get double and treble as much per acre as A. Then it was of such an extra quality that he would get an extra price for it. There was not only some pleasure in such farming, but much profit. B. became wealthy.

Now it appears to me that the same principle holds good in planting and training churches. Where we try to do about two or three times as much as we can do well,—to plant more acres than we can cultivate,—how can we expect anything but weedy fields and poor crops? Where we raise up churches and leave them largely to shift for themselves, how can we expect them to grow strong and bear much fruit? Such hopes are vain, and the fruit of much of our labor proves it to be so. Strong, healthy, working churches,—churches out of trial and growing in numbers,—are the exception with us; while weak, run-down churches, churches in trial, are the rule.

It is positively discouraging to think of raising up new churches to be left in turn to run down like the old ones. Do we not sin against God, his truth, and the souls of our people, by doing such work? Let us plant less and cultivate more.

The Jews Since A. D. 70.

By M. E. Steward

BY MRS. M. E. STEWARD.

(Continued.)

Judea had not entirely surrendered to the Roman power, though its metropolis had fallen. When Lucilius Bassus took command of the Roman army, he found three strong-holds still in arms,—Herodion, Machaerus, and Masada. Herodion immediately capitulated. Machaerus, a place of great natural beauty, was built on the top of a very high, rocky hill, surrounded by valleys of very great depth. The one on the west ran down seven and a half miles to the Dead Sea, while on the north and south they were impassable, and the eastern one was one hundred and seventy-five feet deep.

Machaerus was built by Alexander Janneus, king of the Jews, to repel the Arabian robbers. Herod the Great, considering it a very important point of defense on account of its natural strength, built a city around the rocky citadel, enclosing it with strongly fortified walls, within which he built very beautiful palaces. He then fitted it up to sustain a long siege, putting into it a large quantity of implements of warfare and building a great many reservoirs of water, though Machaerus had natural fountains, hot and cold, bitter, sweet, and medicinal. According to Josephus, it was here that John the Baptist was beheaded. Bassus determined to lay the siege of this place on the east, and accordingly went to work to fill up the valley. And now the garrison retired to the lofty towers on the top of the hill, leaving the strangers who had fled to Machaerus for safety in the lower town. The Jews frequently sallied out of the citadel against the Romans, but with unequal success; sometimes being repelled with loss; and again, when the Romans were off their guard, killing many of them.

A young man named Eleazar, of a noble and numerous family, especially distinguished himself at these times. But once, remaining carelessly behind his retiring companions, conversing with the men on the wall, Rufus, an Egyptian, ran from the Romans and carried him off in his arms to the Roman camp. Bassus ordered him to be stripped and scourged before the city, at sight of which his associates mourned so greatly that Bassus, surprised that they should grieve so for a single man, resolved to see if he could not, through their sympathy for him, get possession of the city. He commanded a cross to be erected as though he were about to execute Eleazar. The wailings in the city greatly increased, and through his own pleadings for life with those of his countrymen, and the influence of his powerful friends, the Jews agreed to surrender on condition that Eleazar should be saved, and they should all be permitted to depart undisturbed. The terms were accepted, and the treaty with the garrison was faithfully kept. The strangers, hearing of the capitulation, and that no provision had been made for them, attempted to cut their way out and escape in the night; but when they opened the gates the besiegers rushed in. While some of the foremost and bravest made good their flight, those found within the walls were slain, amounting to seventeen hundred, and the women and children were made slaves.

Many fled to the forest of Jarden, where were also fugitives from Jerusalem, some of whom had escaped through the underground passages. Bassus surrounded this forest with horsemen. The Jews, seeing no alternative, made a fierce assault on the enemy. Both sides fought desperately, but the Jews, numbering three thousand, were all slain, while of the Romans there were but twelve killed and a few wounded.

About this time Bassus died, and Flavius Silva succeeded him in command. One stronghold on the south-western side of the Dead Sea still held out against the Romans. It stood, like Machaerus, on a very high rock, and was surrounded by the deepest chasms, being accessible in only two places,—one on the east leading up from the Dead Sea, a rocky stairway called the Serpent from its winding course, often turning back almost upon itself, and so narrow that, were the foot to slip, one must inevitably be dashed into the abysses below. This path extended nearly four miles, opening into a very beautiful, fertile plain on which stood Masada.

The western ascent which was somewhat more gradual, was fortified in its narrowest place by an impregnable tower. Jonathan, the high priest, first built the fortress of Masada; but Herod had spared no pains in rebuilding and fortifying the place, looking to it as a place of refuge either in case of foreign invasion, which he feared from Egypt, as Cleopatra had often begged Antony to give Judea to her; or a revolt from his own subjects, to whom his cruelties had made him very odious.

Herod had built a wall of white stone around it twenty-two feet high and fourteen broad, having thirty-eight lofty towers. He also built within it a magnificent palace surrounded by a high, strong wall having at its four corners towers sixty cubits high. The furniture throughout this edifice was very costly and of great variety. Large reservoirs were constructed for water, besides the natural supply from fountains. (In our temperate climate we do not so much realize the inestimable value of water as they did.)

Herod had laid up in Masada a great quantity of provisions, oil, wine, grains, vegetables, and fruits, which, though nearly one hundred years old, were in a state of perfect preservation, owing, Josephus thinks, to the pure atmosphere of the place. Herod had also deposited here weapons enough to supply ten thousand men. At the time of the siege a powerful man by the name of Eleazar with a band of banditti had obtained possession of this fortress. He was a descendant of one Judas who had many years before violently opposed the taxation imposed upon the Jews by the Romans and led away much people with him. Eleazar was staunch in the principles of his ancestor, believing it the height of impiety to submit to any other authority than that of God himself.

Silva built a wall entirely around the city, having towers in which he stationed garrisons so that no one might escape, and, seizing a broad rock on the west, called the White Promontory, he built upon this, being all the place where he could approach the town, a bank of earth three hundred and fifty feet high. Then upon this embankment he constructed another bank of enormous stones, and placing on the latter a Helepolis, he brought it to bear on the walls of the city. Soon a breach was made; but the besieged had built another wall inside, of great parallel timbers in two rows, united together by transverse beams, and filled in between all with earth.

The harder this wall was struck, the more compact it became. Silva, comprehending this, ordered it to be burned. His men threw upon it fire-brands and it immediately flamed up; but the wind drove the fire upon the Romans, who greatly feared their machines would all be destroyed. Suddenly, however, the wind changed to the south, and the wall, now completely on fire, was soon burned down. The Romans, after stationing a strong watch to prevent the flight of the besieged, retired to rest, resolving on an

attack the next day. But they did not know Eleazar; he could die, but he would not disgracefully flee or permit others to do so. Assembling all his followers in the palace, he reasoned and plead with them a long time never to allow themselves to fall into the hands of the Romans. Said he: “We were the first who revolted from them (referring to Judas in the taxing), and we are the last that fight against them.” He continued: “It had been proper, indeed, for us to have conjectured at the purposes of God much sooner, . . . and to have been sensible that the same God who had of old taken the Jewish nation into his favor had now condemned them to destruction.” The ruin of his holy city and the temple, and lastly his changing the wind in favor of their enemies, so conquering their otherwise impregnable fortress, all proved to Eleazar that God had deserted them. Said he, “This was the effect of God’s anger against us for our manifold sins; the punishment of which let us not receive from the Romans, but from God himself, as executed by our own hands.”—Josephus.

He then proposed that they should all slay one another, and burn the fortress and all their wealth except their provisions; which he said would testify that they were not starved into submission, but that they preferred death to slavery. Some caught his heroic spirit; others with tears looked upon their wives and children. Seeing this, he began again in a loftier strain, enthusiastically discoursing on the immortality of the soul, the blessedness of its life when freed from mortality and brought into a state of purity.

He dwelt on the horrors of slavery; the cruelty the Romans had shown their race; the scenes of the amphitheaters—how some had been “tortured with fire and whipping, and so died; some have been half devoured by wild beasts and yet have been reserved alive to be devoured by them a second time in order to afford laughter and sport to our enemies.”—Josephus. “Let us die,” he ended, “unenslaved; let us depart from life in freedom, with our wives and children. This our law demands, this our wives and children entreat. God himself has driven us to this stern necessity; this the Romans dread above all things, lest we should disappoint them of their victory. Let us deny them the joy and triumph of seeing us subdued, and rather strike them with awe at our death and with enforced admiration of our indomitable valor.”—Milman.

It was enough. He was interrupted by the clamors of the entire multitude, who, with a demonical fury, vied with one another in their haste to demonstrate their courage in the work of self-sacrifice. “They embraced their wives; they kissed their children even with tears; and at the moment, as though they had been the passive instruments of another’s will, they stabbed them to the heart. Not a man declined the murderous office. But they thought that they should wrong the dead if they survived them many minutes. They hastily drew together their most valuable effects, and heaping them up, set fire to these sumptuous funeral piles. Ten men having been chosen by lot as the general executioners, the rest, one after another, still clasping the lifeless bodies of their wives and children, held up their necks to the blow. The ten then cast lots; nine fell by each other’s hands; the last man, after he had carefully searched whether there was any more work for him to do, seized a lighted brand, set fire to the palace, and then with resolute and unflinching hand, drove the sword to his own heart.”—Milman’s History of the Jews.

One old woman, and another woman who was a relative of Eleazar, distinguished for her learning and judgment, with five children, were all who escaped. They had crept into caverns below the ground, and remained hid during the awful work of death.

The next morning the Romans, in close array, well armed to attack the fortress, scaled the walls and rushing into the city, were astonished at the profound silence that reigned everywhere. At length they gave a shout as they did when about to drive the battering-ram; no response; but the women crept out of their hiding places and told them all that had happened, the wise one repeating everything that had been said. Their story could hardly be credited; but extinguishing the fire enough to go within the palace, they were convinced of the truth. They beheld the multitude of the slain, numbering nine hundred and sixty persons, with amazement and pain, while admiring at the same time their courage; scarcely comprehending such lofty though fierce fanaticism.

The Lord had said, “I will destroy your high places.” “Then shall ye know that I am the Lord, when their slain men shall be . . upon every high hill.” Eze. 6. “And he shall besiege thee in all thy gates, until thy high and fenced walls come down, wherein thou trustedst, throughout all thy land.” “All these curses shall be upon thee for a sign and for a wonder.” Deut. 28.

With the overthrow of Masada terminated the subjection of all Judea.

(To be continued.)

Free to Serve

By Frances R. Havergal

—Let Him write what He will upon our hearts With His unerring pen. They are His own, Hewn from the rock by His selecting grace, Prepared for his own glory. Let Him write! Be sure He will not cross out one sweet word But to inscribe a sweeter—but to grave One that shall shine forever to His praise, And thus fulfill our deepest heart-desire. The tearful eye at first may read the line, “Bondage to grief!” but He shall wipe away The tears and clear the vision, till it read, In ever brightening letters, “Free to serve!” For whom the Son makes free is free indeed. —Frances R. Havergal.

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