Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, Cal. · Feb 16, 1882
General Articles.
By W. H. Littlejohn
Constitutional Amendment.
BY ELD. W. H. LITTLEJOHN.
ONE of the marked features of our time is the tendency toward the discussion of the Sabbath question. Nor can this subject be treated with more indifference in the future than it is at the present. Agitation, ceaseless, unrelenting, excited, and finally, severe, is rendered certain by the temper of all the parties to the controversy. On the one hand, the friends of Sunday observance are dissatisfied with the laxity of the regard which is paid it, and are loud in their demands for statutory relief; denouncing upon the nation the wrath of God, in unstinted measure, should their petition be set at naught. On the other hand, the enemies of the Sabbath institution in all of its phases, are becoming bold in their protestations against a legalized Sabbath, as something extremely oppressive and inexpressibly intolerable in its very nature.
In all parts of the country, activity characterizes the camps of both these contending hosts. Everywhere the elements of strength—hitherto unorganized, and inefficient to the accomplishment of great results because of that fact—are being brought out and employed in effective service.
Cincinnati, Chicago, New York, Boston, San Francisco, in their turn, become the theaters where the skirmish lines of future combatants, on a larger scale, are brought into occasional collision. The ordinary appliances of dinners, processions, national and State conventions, city, town, and district societies, are rapidly becoming the order of the day, while those who are brought within the range of their influence are stimulated and aroused, on the one hand, by earnest appeals to the Bible and religion, and on the other, to natural rights, and individual conscience. So far has the matter now proceeded, so much has already been said, so fully has the contest been opened, that retrogression means defeat to either the one or the other party. And as to compromise, this can never be attained, from the fact that the position, from which both parties are now seeking to emerge is that of toleration. Why, says the ardent advocate of the Sunday law, it is not sufficient that I observe the day of rest with strictness and fidelity in my own family. I owe a duty to the public; I am a member of a great Commonwealth, which God treats as a personality, and if I do not see to it that the statute laws of the land are in harmony with, and enforce the requirements of, the law of God, this nation, like all others which have ignored their obligations to legalize and enforce his will in matters of this nature, will be devoted to a ruin for which I shall be accountable, and in which I shall be a sharer. Moved by such considerations as these, his purse is open and his labors untiring for the accomplishment of that which now appears to him to be in the line of both individual interest and religious duty.
Again, his neighbor across the way being, perhaps, of the free-thinking order, and an ardent admirer of the complete separation of Church and State, wonders that he has so long consented to that abridgment of his personal liberty which has been made by statutory provision, and which has hitherto compelled him to surrender much of what he calls natural right to the whims and caprices of those with whom he differs so widely on all questions bearing upon the relation of man to his God. Henceforth, says he, I pledge my means, my influence, and my untiring effort, to a revolution which, if need be, shall shake society to its very center, rather than to consent to the legalized perpetuation of an institution which requires on my part an acknowledgment of a faith which I have never held, and of doctrines which I detest.
Of course, all do not share alike, either in the enthusiasm or the animosity which characterizes certain individuals when entering upon a conflict like the one in question. In every party is found more or less of the aggressive and the conservative elements. Especially is this true in the incipient stages of its history. Some men are necessarily more earnest than are others in everything which they undertake. Some are bold, headlong, defiant; others, cautious, slow, and timid. One class leaps to its conclusions first, and looks for its arguments afterward; the other moves circumspectly, and, while it gives a general assent to the desirability of results, finds a world of trouble in deciding upon what means ought to be employed in securing them. One is forever foaming because of delay, and fears defeat as the result of hesitation; while the other protests against too rapid and ill considered action.
Such is, at present, the condition more especially of the positive side of the Sunday movement in this country. The strong men and the weak men, the resolute men and the undecided men, are struggling for the mastery of the policy in the camp. One sort discovers no difficulties in the way of immediate and complete success. Lead us to the front, say they, our cause is just, and all that is necessary to the success is the courage and inspiration of battle. But hold, say the others, not too fast; public sentiment is not prepared for the issue. And besides, we are not so clear in our minds as are you respecting the lengths to which this controversy should be carried, and the line of argument which ought to be pursued. Why, say the first, What need can there be of more delay? Nothing is more manifest than the means which we ought to employ for the accomplishment of our purpose. Our work is simply that of enforcement. Has not God said in so many words, in the decalogue, "Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work: but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work?" Is not this language explicit? Is it not a part of that law which nearly all Christians acknowledge to be binding? Do we not enforce the observance of the remaining commandments by statutory provision? And is it not equally clear that this should be treated inlike manner? Why delay, then? Why not move upon the enemy's works with the inspiring battle-cry of "God in the Constitution?" Why not at once clamor for the amendment of that instrument, and for the passage of statutes by which the better observance of the Christian Sabbath can be secured? Give us these and our victory is won. Our Sunday mails, and trains, and travel, and public amusements of every name and nature, can be removed at a single stroke. As a result the nation will stand higher in the estimation of God; and the people, having acknowledged his supremacy, will have taken a long step in the direction of final renovation and conversion.
But wait, says another, not too fast in matters of so great moment. Please bear in mind the fact that this contest is to be one of words and arguments. Your danger is that of underrating the capacity and intelligence of our opponents. If you expect to meet them successfully, it must be by a logic which will bear criticism and examination. As an individual I am by no means certain that the Bible authority for our movement is so clear and abundant as you seem to imagine.
The law which you quote in justification of our course is truly a Sabbath law, and its import is unmistakable; but, unfortunately, instead of making for our cause, it is diametrically opposed to your efforts, and plainly declares that the seventh day of the week is the Sabbath of the Lord, whereas you are unmistakably occupying before the world a position no less awkward than that of insisting that the first, and not the seventh, is the one which should be enforced by legal enactment. While, therefore, I am in full sympathy with the general purposes of this movement, I am convinced that, before we shall succeed, we must rest it upon a different basis than the fourth commandment. So far as my individual preferences go, in order to avoid the difficulties which lie along the line of Scripture justification for our conduct—I suggest that we rest it upon the broad principle of social necessity, relying for our success upon the generally conceded fact that rest upon one day in seven is indispensable to the well-being of individuals and communities.
But, says a third party, while I agree with you in condemning the proposition that the fourth commandment, as originally given, furnishes us warrant for the observance of the first day of the week, I can never consent to the idea of its unconditional repeal; for without it in some form we are entirely without a Sabbath law; a condition of things which would be deplorable indeed. I therefore conclude that that law has been brought over into our dispensation, and so far changed as to adapt it to the enforcement of the observance of the first day of the week, agreeably to the example of Christ and the apostles. With this view I can safely predict power and triumph for the grand scheme upon which we have entered. Give us a Sabbath of divine appointment and backed by a sacred precept, and victory is certain. But so sure as we lower the controversy to one which is merely corporeal in its nature and results, and pecuniary in its considerations, defeat is written upon our banners, since you have taken from us all the inspiration of the contest, and dried up the very springs of our enthusiasm and courage.
What the final result of such discussions will be, there is little room for doubt. That a revolution is fairly inaugurated in the minds of the people, it is now too late to question. What remains to be done, therefore, is simply to execute the grand purpose for which it has been instituted.
That this cannot be accomplished by a merely negative policy, has been illustrated too many times in history to require further demonstration. Men, having once entered the field of conflict, universally become less and less scrupulous in regard to the means employed to secure the desired object. In the primary meetings of a great movement, the voice of the conservative may be listened to with attention and respect; but should he give expression to the same prudent counsel upon the battle field, when the sword of the enemy is red with the blood of his compatriots, his utterances would be silenced in a storm of indignation such as would threaten his very existence, and consign his name to the list of those whose fidelity was at least questionable, and whose sympathy with the common foe was far from being impossible.74
So, likewise, with the half-way men in this incipient struggle, which is about to throw open the gates of controversy upon one of those religious questions which, above all others, is sure to be characterized, first, by uncharitableness, and finally, by bitter hate and animosity. With each advancing month, their hold upon the confidence of their associates will grow less and less, and the counsels of their party will come more and more fully under the control of those positive, nervous spirits, who are swept along by convictions so deep and strong that they will bear down everything before them.
Nevertheless, candid reader, it is by no means certain, that there may not be much of truth in the positions assumed by the more moderate men in the existing issue. At all events—since we have not as yet entered into that impassioned state of the public mind from which calm deliberation is banished by the necessity of immediate action—let us pause here for a moment, and carefully weigh the correctness of the suggestions presented above.
Is it worth the while to enter the lists in the approaching struggle, in order to secure the results proposed?
I say proposed, because, of course, the result is as yet more or less uncertain; nevertheless, we incline to the opinion that the end desired will be substantially realized, so far as appearance is concerned. Yet this will not be brought about in a moment, nor will it be accomplished without a hard fight. It must, from the very necessity of the case, be a contest which will enter, divide, and distract families, and which will alienate a large portion of the community from the other. But, with a united and well-drilled ministry, on the one hand, backed by the compact organization of their respective churches, and opposed by a heterogeneous mass of discordant elements, there can be little doubt as to final success.
First, then, let us suppose that the policy inaugurated shall be that of the class represented above as desiring to strip the subject of its religious garb, and to array it in the habiliments of mere policy and temporal considerations. Are the benefits reasonably to be expected from such a course such as would warrant the enthusiasm now manifested by the advocates of the proposed reformation?
We believe not. In fine, so certain are we of it, that we should not hesitate to predict immediate and perfect paralysis to their efforts, so soon as they should inscribe this doctrine upon their banners. How many of the gentlemen in question are really so profoundly interested in the social status of the working-man that their zeal in his behalf could be wrought up to the point of sacrificing time and money, and of devoting voice and pen to the mere work of giving him a septenarian day of physical rest? What satisfaction would be afforded them by the reflection, that, as the result of legal enactment, the carefully-appointed police in our great cities should be able to meet each other on the boundary lines of their respective beats, on the morning of Sunday, with the accustomed salutation, All is quiet! and cessation from labor is complete in all parts of the great metropolis? Who would highly prize a coerced rest of this sort? What particular gratification would be afforded to the religious world, as they gather, in their costly churches, by the thought that the great mass of the people were quietly sleeping, or lazily lounging in the various places of their retirement?
Certainly there is nothing in such a state of things which offers results sufficiently desirable either to reward them for the great sacrifices with which it would be necessary that they should be purchased, in the first instance, or to secure that patient continuance in vigilant perseverance which would be required to insure the perpetuity of an order of things at once so compulsory and so precarious. We say, therefore, that to rest the contest upon this issue would be simply to falsify the facts. It is not the physical consideration of rest, in any large degree, which animates the mind and strengthens the resolve of those engaged in the newly organized reform. No; there is something behind all this. The informing soul, that which electrifies, stimulates, and nerves to action, is the profound conviction that this is a religious movement; that which is sought in the honoring of God by the observance of a Sabbath such as is found in his word. If this be not so, if the higher idea of Christian worship as the primary one is not paramount in this matter, then the whole thing is a farce, from beginning to end. Not only so; if what is sought is merely the improvement of bodily condition, then the plan suggested is, in many cases, far from being the best which might be offered. Take, if you please, our over-populated cities, with the dense masses of human beings who are there crowded together, under most unfavorable circumstances, many of them perishing for lack of pure air, and others pale and sickly for want of exposure to the vivifying rays of the sun, which is continually shut out from their gaze by the massive piles of masonry by which they are inclosed; who will not say that, leaving the spiritual out of consideration, and setting aside the idea of the sanctity of the day, it would be a blessing incalculably greater for them, should provision be made, whereby this should become to them a day of recreation, while wandering amid flowers, and over hills, and through groves, instead of one in which, either from necessity or choice, they should still perpetuate the confinement which has already nearly proved fatal in their cases?
WE WAIT FOR THEE.
We wait for thee, all-glorious One!
We look for thine appearing;
We bear thy name, and on the throne
We see thy presence cheering.
Faith even now
Uplifts its brow,
And sees the Lord descending,
And with him bliss unending.
We wait for thee through days forlorn,
In patient self-denial;
We know that thou our guilt hast borne
Upon thy cross of trial.
And well may we
Submit with thee
To bear the cross and love it,
Until thy hand remove it.
We wait for thee; already thou
Hast all our hearts' submission;
And though the Spirit sees thee now,
We long for open vision;
When ours shall be
Sweet rest with thee,
And pure, unfading pleasure,
And life in endless measure.
William Miller's Conversion.
"In 1812, Elisha Miller, an uncle of the subject of this memoir, was settled over the church in Low Hampton, and a small meeting-house was afterwards erected. On Mr. Miller's removal to Low Hampton, he became a constant attendant, except in the absence of the preacher, at that place of worship, and contributed liberally to its support. His relation to the pastor, and the proximity of his house, caused it to become the head-quarters of the denomination on extra as well as on ordinary occasions. There the preachers from a distance found food and shelter; and though fond of bantering them on their faith, and making their opinions a subject of mirth with his infidel friends, they always found a home beneath his roof.
"In the absence of the pastor, public worship was conducted by the deacons, who, as a substitute for the sermon, read a printed discourse, usually from 'Proudfoot's Practical Sermons.' Mr. Miller's mother noticed that, on such occasions, he was not in his seat, and she remonstrated with him. He excused his absence on the ground that he was not edified by the manner in which the deacons read; and intimated that if he could do the reading, he should always be present. This being suggested to those grave officials, they were pleased with the idea; and after that, they selected the sermon as before, but Mr. Miller did the reading, although still entertaining deistical sentiments.
The time had now come when God, by his providence and grace, was about to interpose to enlist the patriotic soldier in another kind of warfare; when, to his mind, so fond of those departments of truth which appealed only to reason and sense, was to be opened a more inspiring field; when the persevering and delighted student of history was to see and appreciate the connection between the most stirring scenes and mightiest revolutions in this world's affairs, and God's great plan of redemption, to which all the events of time are made subordinate.
"Detecting himself in an irreverent use of the name of God, as before related, he was convicted of its sinfulness, and retired to his beautiful grove, and there, in meditation on the works of nature and Providence, he endeavored to penetrate the mystery of the connection between the present and a future state of existence.
"As a farmer, he had had more leisure for reading; and he was at an age when the future of man's existence will demand a portion of his thoughts. He found that his former views gave him no assurance of happiness beyond the present life. Beyond the grave, all was dark and gloomy. To use his own words: 'Annihilation was a cold and chilling thought, and accountability was sure destruction to all. The heavens were as brass over my head, and the earth as iron under my feet. Eternity!—what was it? And death—why was it? The more I reasoned the further I was from demonstration. The more I thought the more scattered were my conclusions. I tried to stop thinking, but my thoughts would not be controlled. I was truly wretched but I did not understand the cause. I murmured and complained, but knew not of whom. I knew that there was a wrong, but knew not how or where to find the right. I mourned but without hope.' He continued in this state of mind for some months, feeling that eternal consequences might hang on the nature and object of his belief.
"The anniversary of the battle of Plattsburg—September 11—was celebrated in that region, for some years with much enthusiasm. In 1816, arrangements had been made for its observance, by a ball, at Fair Haven. The stirring scenes of the late campaign being thus recalled, Captain Miller entered into the preparations for the expected festivities with all the ardor of the soldier. In the midst of these, it was announced that Dr. B. would preach on the evening previous to the ball. In the general gathering to that meeting, Captain Miller and his help attended, more from curiosity than from other actuating cause.
"They left Captain Miller's house in high glee. The discourse was from Zech. 2:4: 'Run! speak to this young man!' It was a word in season. On their return, Mrs. M. who had remained at home, observed a wonderful change in their deportment. Their glee was gone, and all were deeply thoughtful, and not disposed to converse in reply to her questions respecting the meeting, the ball, etc. They were entirely incapacitated for any part in the festive arrangements. Other managers of the ball were equally unfitted for it; and the result was that it was indefinitely postponed. The seriousness extended from family to family, and in the several neighborhoods in that vicinity meetings for prayer and praise took the place of mirth and the dance.
"On the Lord's day following, it devolved on Captain Miller, as usual in the minister's absence, to read a discourse of the deacons' selection. They had chosen one on the Importance of Parental Duties. Soon after commencing he was overpowered by the inward struggle of emotion, with which the entire congregation deeply sympathized, and took his seat. His deistical principles seemed an almost insurmountable difficulty with him. Soon after, 'suddenly,' he says, 'the character of a Saviour was vividly impressed upon my mind. It seemed that there might be a Being so good and compassionate as to himself atone for our transgressions, and thereby save us from suffering the penalty of sin. I immediately felt how lovely such a being must be; and imagined that I could cast myself into the arms of, and trust in the mercy of, such a One. But the question arose, How can it be proved that such a Being does exist? Aside from the Bible, I found that I could get no evidence of the existence of such a Saviour, or even of a future state. I felt that to believe in such a Saviour without evidence would be visionary in the extreme.
"I saw that the Bible did bring to view just such a Saviour as I needed; and I was perplexed to find how an uninspired book should develop principles so perfectly adapted to the wants of a fallen world. I was constrained to admit that the Scriptures must be a revelation from God. They became my delight; and in Jesus I found a friend. The Saviour became to me the chiefest among ten thousand; and the Scriptures which before were dark and contradictory, now became the lamp to my feet and light to my path. My mind became settled and satisfied. I found the Lord God to be a rock in the midst of the ocean of life. The Bible now became my chief study, and I can truly say I searched it with great delight. I found the half was never told me. I wondered why I had not seen its beauty and glory before, and marveled that I could have ever rejected it. I found everything revealed that my heart could desire, and a remedy for every disease of the soul. I lost all taste for other reading, and applied my heart to get wisdom from God.
"Mr. Miller immediately erected the family altar; publicly professed his faith in that religion which had been food for his mirth, by connecting himself with the little church that he had despised; opened his house for meetings of prayer; and became an ornament and pillar in the church, and an aid to both pastor and people. The die was cast, and he had taken his stand for life as a soldier of the cross, as all who knew him felt assured; and henceforth the badge of discipleship, in the church or world, in his family or closet, indicated whose he was and whom he served.75"His pious relations had witnessed with pain his former irreligious opinions; how great were their rejoicings now! The church favored with his liberality, and edified by his reading, but pained by his attacks on their faith, could now rejoice with the rejoicing. His infidel friends regarded his departure from them as the loss of a standard-bearer. And the new convert felt that henceforth, wherever he was, he must deport himself as a Christian, and perform his whole duty. His subsequent history must show how well this was done.
"To the church, his devotion of himself to his Master's service was as welcome as his labors were efficient. The opposite party, especially the more gifted of them, regarded him as a powerful, and therefore, desirable, antagonist. He knew the strength of both parties. 'That of the former he had often tested, when, in his attacks, though they might have been silenced, he had felt that he had a bad cause; and the weakness of the latter had been forcibly impressed on him in his fruitless efforts to assure himself that they were right. He knew all their weak points, and where their weapons could be turned against them. They were not disposed to yield the ground without a struggle, and began their attack on him by using the weapons and assailing the points which characterized his own former attacks on Christianity; and to this fact, under God, is probably owing his subsequent world-wide notoriety.—Life of Miller.
Habit and the Man.
How often the remark is heard, "If I had A's money, what an amount of good I would do with it, and how much better I should know how to enjoy it than he does;" or, "If I had B's talent, how I would make it tell, instead of frittering it away as he does;" or again, "If I had nothing to do all the day in and out, no family cares, like Mrs. C, what service I would give to visiting the sick and relieving the distressed." Such expressions are so common that they may be said to be "always in stock," as certain lines of staple goods are at the stores. But there is a very simple test of them, and a very sure one. Just ask the one using them, What are you doing with your income, whatever it is? How are you making tell the talent God has given you? How many moments are you stealing from your limited time and manifold cares, that you may do good to those who need your thought?
In other words, What is the habit of your heart, the spirit of your life? That will tell the whole story. What you do with the little you have of money, and talent, and time, is the sure index of what you would do with these if they were suddenly and indefinitely increased. And what you do with these, moreover, as God gives them to you, is all you will have to answer for. It is to be remembered that you have not to shoulder the responsibility of A's fortune, B's talent, or C's time and opportunity. The servant who made right use of the two talents which his Lord intrusted to him, received the same recognition for faithfulness as the one that had received five. And it would have fared as well with the possessor of one, had he but followed the course of the others and made the use of it that was intended. But he belonged to the class who say, "If I had been given the five talents, I would have made far more of them than did even the faithful servant." Whereas, the important truth is, that had he been given the five talents, in the same spirit he would have buried them, and pleaded at last the pitiful story of the hard master as his excuse.
This is indeed a most important truth. It is practical, coming close to every Christian's life. The simple fact is that the man who, when asked to contribute to a charitable or a church object, pleads poverty, and in addition says, "If I were as well off as Blank now, I would do it with delight," would not give though he had Blank's wealth ten times over. On the other hand, the man who says cheerily, "It's but little I can do, but that I will do with all my heart, only wishing it were more," is a philanthropist, and would be a great one should he ever find himself face to face with great opportunity.
The question is, then, not what you would do with what you have not, but what you actually do and are doing with what you have, whether of outward possessions or of mind and heart. The late Mr. Morgan, who died honored and beloved by all who knew him, never would have been the philanthropist he was had he waited to be benevolent until his fortune was made. He began giving in small sums when his means were small. The habit of giving was a part of the man. The number of his known and larger gifts is reckoned, but the constant and smaller liberalities and beneficences that brightened and blessed thousands of poor, struggling souls, who shall reckon them? And what was true of him is true of all philanthropists whose inner life becomes revealed to us.
It is the same in Christian work. The pastor does not come to rely upon those ambitious members who are watching for large opportunities, and lamenting limited capacity and chance. He knows they would not see or be ready for the great chance if it came. But he looks to the faithful, willing, every-day workers, who have the spirit of the Master in all their work, and count it all worthy and sacred because it is his service. No one can measure to what large work and influence they may attain; but we know of a surety that they are the ones who will attain, because they are in the line of growth. It was a broad law, working itself out in human experience everywhere, that Christ formulated when he said, "Unto every one that hath shall be given, but from him that hath not, even that which he hath shall be taken away from him." No truth can be learned that should tell more powerfully on the Christian heart, than the blessed truth that God's service is one that ever enlarges and enriches by faithful performance of it as it comes day by day. Let every one do this with what he hath, and unto him God shall give, and give abundantly. The habit of service is the index of the man.—Examiner and Chronicle.
The Happiness of Queens.
THERE is nothing of which we hear oftener than this. When we are children our nurses charm us, and make us envious with their marvelous stories of life in the palaces. Can we ever forget the Prince Charming, and what the princess wore—her dress the color of the sun; how she rode in a carriage ornamented all over with big rubies; that her scepter was a single diamond, and her crown made of stars snatched from heaven.
Later the Almanach de Gotha recalls these golden fables of our infancy, and we see again the queens with their blonde hair and bright eyes, their crowns high upon their heads, and their great cloaks of velvet trailing from their shoulders. They smile with the smile of tranquil goddesses; they are beautiful among the beautiful, happy among the happy; before them one bows or goes upon his knees; the earth is made sweet by the caress of their feet; men only breathe as they nod: joy is everywhere about them.
O sovereigns! O rulers! look what destiny has done for you.
Queen Victoria reached the throne—adorable, charming! Crowned at Westminster when just sixteen, she married the husband of her choice, one of those Coburgs, who were the handsomest men of their time. She loved so passionately that she poisoned her own life and that of her husband, who was a martyr to her idolatry. Her jealous imagination saw infidelity everywhere and always; ladies once her dear friends became odious to her. She drove away the ladies of honor, and at a court ball she slapped the face of a pretty girl to whom Prince Albert had addressed a few words.
A day came when death called this husband, so fondly loved, and on that day died also England's queen. The heart had gone out of the body of the woman, and nothing was left. Everything seemed to have been brusquely torn away, and so great was her despair, and so long did it last, that, years afterwards, they discussed a regency in Parliament. The motion was defeated, but after the living corpse of her who had been Victoria came from time to time to open Parliament, the English, who respect the dynasty, lowered themselves before the eternal grief of the old woman, for they saw still the crown of the queen above the widow's cap, but she never smiled save when the name of Prince Albert was mentioned.
The Queen of Belgium has an only son. This child of ten years is as sweet and exquisite as a cherub. This royal infant is sick. It is night, and he suffers, for he burns with fever. He tries to smother his cries of pain. The queen, notwithstanding his agony, worn out with long watching, and obeying the supplications of her ladies, retires for a little repose. But she cannot sleep. She leaves her bed and returns in haste to her son. She approaches softly. The prince appears to be soundly sleeping. His breathing is equal and easy. The pale face of Maria Henriette lightens with happiness. The boy is then saved, since he can sleep. She goes out. Then the royal baby calls to the doctor. The doctor bends over him. "Do not tell mother," he says, "it makes her so happy to think that I sleep."
The child will never be a king. To-morrow, in the evening, he is dead.
It is ten years since the Belgian prince is dead, and no other child has come to the queen. At Brussels they seldom see her. She is always with herself. If she goes out she hears nothing, sees nothing. Her hair is white. Her dress is always black. Her ladies of honor are old and ugly, and made still more ugly by the ugly ennui of this court in lethargy. No one dare smile before the queen, who still weeps, who weeps always, and who cries, "For me there is nothing more in the world!"
All alone the Empress of Russia plunges into the intoxication of her tears. She knows that for a long time the true crown of the empress is not that which she wears. She has always with her the portrait of the emperor—the likeness of the man who loves her no more.
Margaret of Italy dies slowly with a terrible malady. She knows that her days are numbered.
The Empress Eugenie lies upon the ground with the seven spears driven right through her heart. Throne, husband, son, beauty—are all gone.
For having touched the crown of Spain, two young queens fall as if struck by lightning. The duchess of Aosta flies to Italy, and wastes in sickness and agony to death. Mercedes, that queen of eighteen years, for whom life seemed so full, is cold as marble in her tomb.
Christina of Austria hears nothing but the noise of the pistol, sees nothing but the gleam of the dagger.
Maximilian went to Mexico, and paid for his ambition with his life. When the grave closed over him it held also the world for Carlotta. Since then her present is the past. Her brain is blinded, and she does not even know that she suffers.—From the French.
THE KING IN HIS BEAUTY.
By Roswell F. Cottrell
R. F. COTTRELL.
The King in his beauty is coming, ere long,
Prepare ye, prepare ye to meet him!
To share in his glory, and sing the "new song"—
Who, who will thus joyously greet him?
Then wake thee! and haste to arise,
Already the day-star is beaming!
Let slumber depart from thine eyes—
No time now for indolent dreaming.
O, get ready!
The King in his beauty to see!
He comes not an infant in Bethlehem born,
He comes not to lie in a manger;
He comes not again to be treated with scorn,
He comes not a shelterless stranger;
He comes not to Gethsemane,
To weep and sweat blood in the garden;
He comes not to die on the tree,
To purchase for rebels a pardon.
Oh, no! glory,
Bright glory environs him now!
With chariots celestial behold him descend,
With glory ineffable beaming!
And all the blest angels around him attend,
In Heaven's bright panopy gleaming.
The trumpet of God sounds, Arise!
They wake from their short, dreamless slumber,
And straightway mount up to the skies,
A multitude no man can number.
Shouts of Glory!
And Victory! now fill the air.
And now, safely standing upon the glass sea,
They form the triumphal procession;
To celebrate duly the grand jubilee,
Of captives now freed from oppression.
Then, lift up your heads, O, ye gates!
The King in his glory will enter;
His army victorious waits,
Fair Zion's redeemed to present her.
Ope, ye portals!
The King in his glory comes in!
Earth's captives now rescued will sorrow no more,
Nor hunger nor thirst shall annoy them;
No pain shall afflict them, their sufferings are o'er,
No sickness nor death shall destroy them.
But freed from mortality's woes,
Eternity opens before them;
Its pleasures are never to close—
God's glory forever beams o'er them.
Glory! Glory!
The King in his beauty is there!
Love the Creator, Not the Creature
To love the creature more than the Creator is idolatry. Who, then, is not an idolater? Examine thy heart.