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Signs of the Times, Vol. 1, No. 32.

The Sermon

Signs of the Times

Jun 17, 1875

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Jun 17, 1875

The Sermon.

THE LAW OF GOD.—No. 3.

BY ELDER J. H. WAGGONER.

THE SABBATH A SIGN.

An important part of the evidence for the Sabbath is that which presents the Sabbath as "a sign." This testimony is often perverted by the assertion that it was a sign between the Jews and the Gentiles to keep up a distinction between them. This is not true any further than it is true that obedience to God distinguishes his people from others who are disobedient. But in this sense the Sabbath is no more a sign than is any other duty. The Scriptures never present the Sabbath as a sign in any such light. In Ex. 31:17, the Lord said, "It is a sign between me and the children of Israel forever." The Bible never says it is a sign between the Jews and Gentiles. To take the name of God out of this text and insert "the Gentiles" in its place, is as presumptuous as it is to take the name of the Lord God out of the fourth commandment and make it read, "The seventh day is the Sabbath of the Jews." In either case the name of God is taken away to destroy the force of the Scripture evidence for the universal obligation of the Sabbath. Perhaps in this we find a fulfillment of Isa. 30:9-11, which speaks of a rebellious people, "children that will not hear the law of the Lord; which says to the seers, See not, and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, prophesy deceits; get you out of the way, turn aside out of the path, cause the Holy One of Israel to cease from before us." We do not think this is a harsh application of this scripture, for we know of no offense more daring than to expunge the name of the Lawgiver from an instrument of his own writing, and to insert in its stead an epithet of reproach, in order to evade the obligation which his word has so plainly revealed, and for which his own signature is the authority. The Sabbath has the superscription of the Most High.
The most daring would tremble to heap reproach upon it, as is often done, if the name of the "Holy One of Israel" had not been removed from it, and the name of Jew, or Gentile, as most conveniently served the purpose, substituted for it.
Having seen that it is a sign, not between Jews and Gentiles, but, between God and his people, we inquire, Why is it a sign? and, Of what is it a sign? The first question is answered in Ex. 31:17: "It is a sign between me and the children of Israel forever; for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and the seventh day he rested and was refreshed." It is a sign between God and his people because he rested in it from all his work of creation. As a sign it points only to creation. Of its peculiar significance we are informed in Eze. 20:20. "Hallow my Sabbaths; and they shall be a sign between me and you, that ye may know that I am the Lord your God."
When we learn that the Sabbath is a sign of creation, we are prepared to appreciate the declaration that, as a sign, it perpetuates the knowledge of God, the Creator. The power to create is that characteristic which is given in the Scriptures to distinguish the true God from false gods. In Jer. 10:1-9 is found a description of the gods of the heathen, which are "the work of the workman, and of the hands of the founder." The distinction between them and the true God is thus introduced: "The gods that have not made the heavens and the earth, they shall perish from the earth, and from under these heavens. He hath made the earth by his power," etc. When the apostles made supplication to God because of their enemies, they thus addressed him: "Lord, thou art God, which hast made heaven and earth, and the sea, and all that in them is." When Paul would point out the true God to the idolatrous Athenians, he said: "God that made the world and things therein."
Commemorative institutions are the very best means of imparting and perpetuating a knowledge of important events. Books of history and monuments of stone are but feeble reminders compared with a memorial day. Take our own national memorial as an illustration. No other event in our struggle for independence from Great Britain is so well and so generally known as that of the declaration made on the fourth of July, 1776. And this because the fourth of July has been celebrated as a memorial day. And so long as this is celebrated, so long will the patriotism, the sufferings, and the triumphs of our fathers be kept in remembrance.
And so of the Sabbath of the Lord. He declared it is a sign that it may be known that he is the Lord, the Creator of heaven and earth. Had it been universally and uninterruptedly observed, the knowledge of the true God—the Creator of heaven and earth—could never have been lost to the nations of the world.
The significance of the Sabbath of the Lord as a sign of his power, of his supremacy and authority, is lost to all those who advocate the change of the day. No day is a memorial of the Creator but that which commemorates the work of creation—the seventh day. "And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it, because that in it he had rested from all his work." It was blessed and sanctified because it was his rest-day from the work of creation. No other day could be his memorial; no other day was consecrated as such.

THE ABRAHAMIC COVENANT.

The promises which God made to Abraham are often dwelt upon with great emphasis and apparent delight, by some who never inquire on what these promises are based, or how we may be made partakers of the same promises. First, then, we must ascertain why the promises were made to Abraham.
When God renewed to Isaac the promise of the land, he said: "I will perform the oath which I sware unto Abraham thy father; and I will make thy seed to multiply as the stars of heaven, and will give unto thy seed all these countries; and in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because that Abraham obeyed my voice, and kept my charge, my commandments, my statutes, and my laws." Gen. 26:3-5. We have already shown that not only Abraham, but mankind in general before and after his day, had a knowledge of the same precepts which we now call moral law. But this testimony of God's own words to Isaac is still more explicit, as the Scriptures inform us that all God's holy commandments were observed by Abraham. In 1 Chron. 16:14-18, it is said: "He is the Lord our God; his judgments are in all the earth. Be ye mindful always of his covenant, the word which he commanded to a thousand generations; which he made with Abraham, and his oath unto Isaac."
Here is something brought to view entirely distinct from the promises made to Abraham; it is a "covenant commanded." But the scripture continues: "And hath confirmed the same to Jacob for a law, and to Israel for an everlasting covenant, saying, Unto thee will I give the land of Canaan, the lot of your inheritance."
Here again the promise of the land cannot be the covenant commanded, or the law. Both are embraced in the Abrahamic covenant according to this scripture. And this is also shown in Gen. 26:3-5, as above quoted. There the Lord said he would perform the oath which he sware unto Abraham, to give him the land, the Abraham kept his commandments. And in 1 Chron. 16:14-18, the promise of the land is connected with the covenant commanded, even to a thousand generations.
And, as a means of identification, we have not only the promise to Abraham twice based upon the law or commandments, but of this it is said he "hath confirmed the same to Jacob for a law, and to Israel for an everlasting covenant."
We find in the word of God many covenants as promises or mutual agreements. See Gen. 9:8, 13; 17:7; Ex. 19:3, 8; Deut. 5:2; 2 Sam. 23:5; Ps. 89:3, 4; Jer. 31:31-35; Heb. 8:7-13; but only one covenant as a law, or commandment, namely, that upon which the promise to Abraham was based. Every promise of blessing must be based upon some condition or command; for God's gracious purposes are toward the righteous, (doers of right, 1 John 3:7,) and it cannot be determined who are righteous and who are wicked, unless we have a law for a standard of judgment. Rom. 3:20; 1 John 3:4. Whatever may be the opinions of men respecting this covenant commanded, the word of God is safer and more satisfactory, and to this alone we appeal. In Deut. 4:12, 13, Moses said to the children of Israel: "And the Lord spake unto you out of the midst of the fire; ye heard the voice of the words, but saw no similitude, only ye heard a voice, and he declared, unto you his covenant which he commanded you to perform, even ten commandments."
There is a difference between enacting and confirming a law. The covenant commanded, which was kept by Abraham and Isaac, was confirmed to Jacob and to Israel. And Moses said the covenant commanded to Israel was the ten commandments.
We are also informed that God's holy covenant, which he confirmed to Israel and wrote on two tables of stone, contained only ten precepts or commandments. In Deut. 5:22, it is said, "These words the Lord spake unto all your assembly, in the mount out of the midst of the fire, of the cloud, and of the thick darkness, with a great voice; and he added no more; and he wrote them in two tables of stone and delivered them unto me." This shows that God's covenant or law of the ten commandments is not to be confounded with those statutes which were given through Moses, and were not spoken by the Lord nor written on the tables of stone.
The same is referred to in the words of the Lord by the prophet: "For I spake not unto your fathers, nor commanded them in the day that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt offerings or sacrifices: but this thing I commanded them, saying, Obey my voice, having respect to that which he commanded them when he brought them out of Egypt, yet being specifically separated from the ordinances of offerings and sacrifices, is thus referred solely to that which God spake with his voice, the ten commandments.
All this makes it very certain that the commandments which Abraham kept, and by the keeping of which he obtained the promises, were the ten commandments which were afterward confirmed as a law to Israel. And this is still further proved by the words of Paul: "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law; * that the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ." We do not now stop to notice the proof that this text affords of the law having jurisdiction over the Gentiles, a subject for future consideration, but call attention to the one point, that the curse of the law must be removed before we can receive the blessing of Abraham. If the promises to Abraham had no relation to the law, as some say, how could the curse of the law stand between them and the blessing of Abraham?
It must appear plain to all that the curse of the law falls only on the transgressors of the law, and only on account of the transgression. Hence, the curse of the law rests on any one as long as he transgresses. And if the curse be removed by pardon, it will return again if we transgress. This must be true unless the pardon gives liberty to continue in transgression. But the gospel of Christ is not a system of indulgence or license, but of forgiveness, and salvation from sin. Christ died "to put away sin;" not to make the way of sin easy and secure. And as Abraham received the promises by obeying God's commandments, and he would not have received them if he had not obeyed, even so we may be heirs with him of the same promises if the curse of past transgression is removed, and we walk in future obedience.
It may be, and often is, objected that this idea frustrates grace, and rests our salvation upon our obedience; whereas Abraham received the promise through faith. But this objection is based on wrong ideas of the object of grace and of the nature of saving faith. Grace is opposed to sin. "Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound? God forbid." And "faith without works is dead." As the spirit vitalizes the body, so do works give life and power to faith. It was the obedience of faith which justified Abraham; and if we would be blessed with him we must "walk in the steps of that faith" which he had. The steps which he took were in obedience to God's commandments. Sin frustrates grace, and forfeits the favor of God under the gospel, as well as in the past dispensation, for Christ is not the minister of sin, but of righteousness. "Blessed are they who do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city." Rev. 22:14. And every man shall be rewarded according to his works.

Be Earnest.

ARE you a member of the church which Christ has purchased with his own blood? Have you tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come? Your very position before the world indicates what duties should rest on your heart and conscience. The church is, or should be, "the light of the world" and "the salt of the earth." A wise man has said, "the Christian is the world's Bible, and the only one which it reads." Believers should be living epistles, read and known of all men. The world is too busy to read books, either divine or human. But they read men who profess godliness critically, and the judgment they form of us, with a proper opportunity, is usually correct. They are not mistaken in supposing that piety is more than mere belief in divine revelation and outward profession. They know that when the heart is right with God, and full of love, the life will show it.—Sabbath Recorder.

Fool

A FOOL in high station is like a man upon a high mountain—everything appears small to him and he appears small to everybody.

Cross Wearing.

I AM crucified with Christ— With him nailed upon the tree; Not the cross, then, do I bear, But the cross, it beareth me. Solemn cross on which I died, One with him, the Crucified.
Shall I take that blood-stained cross, Cross of agony and shame, Cross of him who fought my fight, Cross of him who overcame? Shall I deck myself with thee, Awful cross of Calvary?
Shall I drag thee through the crowd, 'Mid the slaughter that is there; Whirl thee through the giddy waltz, Bound upon my neck or hair? Awful cross of Calvary, Shall I deck myself with thee?
Shall I make that lowly cross Minister of woman's pride, Drawing eyes to me that should Fix upon the Crucified? Awful cross of Calvary, Shall I deck myself with thee?
Shall I call this glittering gem, Made for show and vanity— Shall I call this gaud a cross, Cross of him who died for me? Shall I deck myself with thee, Awful cross of Calvary?
—H. Bonar.

Tradition.

OPPOSED as we are every step by the influence of tradition, as all reformers have been, it is encouraging to hear now and then, protests against this great evil from those high in religious authority, though they themselves are still more or less blinded by its influence. The following from Rev. S. W. Culver in the Examiner and Chronicle, a leading Baptist paper, is good upon this point:—

"TRADITIONISM.

"Our Saviour met this tendency among the Jews as an element of hostility to his work, gathering to itself whatever of passion or prejudice could be leagued in its support. It followed him with jealous opposition throughout his earthly ministry, and was the chief inspiration of that malignity that clamored so loudly for his crucifixion. The Pharisees and Jewish doctors made more of their Talmud and their Cabala, than they did of the inspired oracles themselves. The result was that many matters manifestly of divine command were set aside, and observances of merely human invention and prescription were practiced with the utmost scrupulosity. As a consequence, the priestly ritual was enlarged, and ceremonies were multiplied, while the spirit and life of godliness declined; till the instances in which there lingered yet some remnant of the old fidelity, and the spirit of true devotion, were exceptions to the general rule.
"One would have thought our Saviour's indignant denunciations of this evil tendency would have been sufficient to prevent any irruption of it into the Christian church. Nevertheless, spite of divine warning and protest thus distinctly announced, the church enjoyed but a brief season of peace and freedom, from its blighting influence.
"Its influence continued to increase in breadth and power, till during the Middle Ages it came to exercise an all but universal ascendency. It is seen at the period of the Reformation impeding the work, and then modifying what it could not wholly prevent; with wily art implanting its leaven of unrighteousness in the churches founded by the reformers, and thus finding a new lease of life in the ranks of Protestantism, we find it at the present time boasting its hoary antiquity and utterly fabulous Apostolical succession, training its neophytes by rubric and ritual, teaching them to worship with breviary and prayer-book, and ever warring as of old, against the supremacy of the word of God.
"It will hardly be disputed by any one who looks at the subject intelligently that this is one of the worst, if not the very worst, of the foes with which Christianity has had to contend. And yet it cannot require much scrutiny to detect the falsehood in this acted lie, this organic mockery of a sound Christianity. What, after all, is this so much vaunted tradition? It is a stream whose waters flow down to us through many a filthy pool, a stream reddened with the blood of ages of persecution, and poisoned with moral degeneracy and spiritual death. Its prescriptive formularies, what are they but just the implements of priestly assumption by which they affect control of the consciences of men, and lord it with a high hand over God's heritage?
"Tradition is traceable in every case, either to an uncertain origin as little reliable as the most shadowy myth, or else to a source that is manifestly and entirely human. In every case, the effect is to turn away the attention and regard from the word of God, and just in proportion as it is received as authority in religious practice and worship, to set that word aside and substitute human for divine authority. The rebuke of the Saviour is as applicable to the traditionism of the nineteenth century as to that of the first, as applicable in America as in Judea—'Ye make the word of God of none effect.' 'Why do ye transgress the commandment of God by your tradition?' "
D. M. C.

Sanctification;

OR THE OBSERVATIONS OF FORTY YEARS ON CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCE.
Jacob and Theodore Schoonhoven were brothers, and strikingly alike in some things; among which was quick and strong perception, which gave them a talent for making property; for honest labor makes property, and shrewd perception takes it.
Jacob and Theodore were strikingly unlike, in what philosophers call conscientiousness. The face of each projected over the eyes, like the cornice of a house; but whether they were alike in the higher organs of the brain, where conscience is supposed to dwell, I cannot tell.
Theodore, who was two years the elder, often said to his brother, "Come on, Jakey, what if mother did forbid it, she will never know it. It is a little thing, and mother is notional." Thus Jacob, by the greater energy of his brother, was often drawn into mischief, for which he lay sleepless and weeping at night, until his pillow was drenched with tears; and he often slipped from his bed in the earliest morning light, to confess faults to his mother of which she had never heard.
They were educated in the sternest Calvinism. Theodore, who, from his peculiar constitution, expected every good thing, and that every advantage belonged to him, was rather pleased with the doctrine of election, having a vague but comforting assurance that he was elected, if anybody was. Jacob, however, who was constitutionally generous and unselfish, felt that if anybody was reprobated, it was most likely to be himself.
When the brothers were sixteen and eighteen, a fatal epidemic prevailed, and many were dying. A general awakening occurred, and religious meetings were held night and day. Theodore was frantic with fear, when his confidence in election was shaken by a doctrinal sermon. He screamed aloud in the congregation, and rent the air with cries for mercy, distressed not so much by reflection on particular sins, and on the bearing of such sins on the law and honor to God, and the welfare of men, as by a general idea that he was a sinner, and exposed to hell. The struggle was not long. He was soon rejoicing in an assurance of pardon. Whether he was influenced by constitutional peculiarity, or not, it seemed comparatively easy for Theodore to be satisfied that he was pardoned and accepted. Jacop wore a serious countenance, sometimes wept, yet said but little, and attracted little notice. He was, however, pained beyond description by a view of his sins, seen in the light of the divine character and law, as seen in their bearing on human welfare, and most of all, as seen in the light of the divine goodness. When he received the "oil of joy for mourning," he put on "the garment of praise" with great meekness, and quietly adored God, the beauty of whose attributes, character, will, laws, and government, he beheld with new eyes; he heard the voice of God with new ears, and his melting heart received every divine impression. Every one said, "What a remarkable display of divine power in the conversion of Theodore Schoonhoven. Jacob is rather thoughtful and may become pious, but Theodore is a perfect Gideon: what a gift in prayer and exhortation, and how he shouts!"
Theodore was foremost everywhere, urged on, flattered, and praised. Everybody knew him. Jacob labored by precept and example to save men, making no display. Few knew him.
Jacob Schoonhoven was asked to give his views of "sanctification." The interrogator walked him into the altar, and each seated himself in a chair. It was the interval between services, and they were alone.
"It is forty years," said Mr. S., "since my brother Theodore and myself experienced religion. Soon after our conversion, he professed sanctification, and urged me to seek for it. I considered the subject. Theodore, after being sanctified, was more foreward, more confident, but no more disinterested. He was greedy of gain, shrewd in speculation, taking advantage of his keen perception to amass wealth; having his constitutional selfishness still strong, still blinding his judgment, and causing him to think he ought to be favored with all good fortune; men ought to work for him cheap; he ought to receive higher wages for public service or mechanical labor; what he sells ought to bring a higher price; what he buys ought to be got for little. My brother has never scrupled to buy property at a low price, which he knew was about to raise in value, and to sell at a high price that which was about to fall; he has not scrupled to buy cheap as possible, young animals of great promise, from men who knew not their value, and to shift off young animals of no promise to men who knew not their worthlessness. All this, he said, was according to law, upheld by public sentiment, and agreeable to his conscience. I considered the subject of sanctification in the light of loving God with all my heart, and loving my neighbor as myself—not so much a work of the emotions as of the judgment—a work not of one moment, but of a life-time; agreement, union, and harmony with God; self-lost in humanity; self-lost in God; living for the honor of God and for human welfare, at all times, seven days in the week, three hundred and sixty-five in the year; in all places, at home or abroad; in the sanctuary, at the mill, or at the market; in all business; laboring, buying, or selling.
"I went into the woods and prayed for sanctification, when the Lord said: 'Jacob, dost thou love my will, my law, and my government with all thy heart?' I said, I do, Lord; and the Lord said: 'Dost thou love thy neighbor as thyself?' I answered, I do, Lord. The Lord said: 'Very well, and now, Jacob, prove thy word in thy life.'
"I went to my house in a happy frame, singing hymns. A week after this, I took down a work on military science, and was reading, having a great ambition for martial fame. The Lord said: 'Jacob, remember thy word.' I saw my ambition was self; I dropped the book, and never took it up again.
"I had made an arrangement to join a lodge of Masons, was on my way, riding fast, when the Lord said: 'Jacob, remember thy word.' I saw that my desire to be a Mason was self; I turned and rode home. I had coveted two colts which I knew would become horses of great value. They were rough and lean, and the owner, not knowing their value, would sell them low. I was on my way to buy them. The Lord said: 'Jacob, remember thy word.' I saw I was not loving my neighbor as myself; I went on, and said: 'Peter, keep your colts; they will make the most valuable horses among all I know.' Peter said, 'I did not think them valuable; but I believe you, for you and your brother know more about horses than any men I ever saw; I would give a thousand dollars for your knowledge. But now Mr. Schoonhoven, the fact is, I must sell them to save my house and land which are mortgaged.' 'I will lend you the money,' I said, 'to save your house; keep your colts.' He did keep them, and finally sold them for five hundred dollars.
"A man came to me to buy some city lots. I was about to take the price which he offered when the Lord said: 'Jacob, remember thy word.' I said: 'Mr. Broderick, I cannot in conscience sell you those lots; that part of the city must fail in a few years.' It did fail, and I turned those lots into a farm.
"Thus my sanctification went on. These lessons were never forgotten; self was banished from my buying and selling; the quick discernment of the value of property, and the foresight of coming changes which the Creator had given me, I no more used for my own increase and wealth. It was evident to me that no man could gain wealth by speculation, and yet love his neighbor as himself. I have instructed hundreds of the honest, industrious poor, and kept them from the gins of speculators. My eye was single, my light increased, and my knowledge of right and wrong, of justice and humanity; my perception became keen to understand what was consistent with loving my neighbor as myself, to understand what it was to do to others as I would be done by.
"One morning I was awakened by the voice of the Lord: 'Jacob, arise, and be sanctified. Remember thy word.' I arose, and, coming from my lodging room, I met a committee of three, informing me that for the part which I took in an anti-slavery meeting, I must recant, or come to trial. I remembered my word, stood my trial, and was excluded. To be separated from the church of my early choice, tore my heart. The Lord said: 'Jacob, lovest thou me more than these?' I answered, 'Yea, Lord, I love thee more than all.' The cause of temperance long before cost me a similar trial.
"I had from early life set apart all of my income, above the plain support of my family, for charity, and with much prayer sought for the most needy. I had passed a day under the clear impression that a sore trial was coming. At evening, I stopped in my barn, and cried: 'Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.' The Lord said: 'Jacob, art thou ready to be sanctified in the loss of all?' I said: 'Yea, Lord, take all. Thou gavest, and if thou takest away, blessed be thy name.'
"I answered a rap by stepping to the door. Three fugitives slaves, a mother and two daughters, were there. The mother mournfully said: 'Will you send us back?' And the Lord said: 'Jacob, wilt thou obey my laws or the laws of man?' I answered: 'I will obey thy laws, Lord.' Come in, I said. I landed them in Canada. I went to jail, and lost all—house, land, herd, and flock. I have gathered a little by hard work in old age. This little cottage is mine, with a few acres of land. My God is reconciled, my peace is like a river, and my treasure, in Heaven.
"'I believe, Bro. Schoonhoven, that you do not profess sanctification. I never heard you speak of it.' 'I never speak of it,' said Jacob; 'the word has become a term of reproach. Selfish, wilful, proud men make high professions of sanctification. My brother Theodore is often referred to as a model sanctified man. He has amassed a fortune of a hundred thousand dollars by speculation, has always sought popular favor and civil office; has ever remained pro-slavery, opposed to the Maine Law, and has gone with the most profane and debauched political party. The judge, by whose decision I was stripped of all my possessions, professed sanctification. I deem it my duty to make no noisy professions. We should, however, be sanctified every day, in all our volitions, motives, purposes, and designs; in our affections, in our tempers and spirit, and in all our business transactions. All other sanctification is mere emotion, excitement, and enthusiasm; and is consistent with selfishness, cruel oppression, and grinding the faces of the poor.'"—Wes. Meth. Magazine.

ENTERING NAZARETH.

I often felt as if it were a kind of violence to ride on horseback into the town where the Messiah lived and labored. Who were we, that we should rush in with our trampling steeds where he had humbly walked? I could understand how that Crusader felt, who refused to be crowned with gold where the Master was crowned with thorns. At our first entry into Nazareth this idea rushed upon me with overwhelming power. The night had come down just as we had finished our long gallop across the plain of Esdraelon, and it was quite dark when we begun the rough scramble up the long rocky glen that winds among the hills up to Nazareth. It was so dark, and the path so narrow and rough, that we trusted rather to our horses than to our own guidance; the solemnity of the place and the night pressed upon us all, and no one had much to say. Suddenly, like a thought unthought before, like a discovery, it flashed upon me, "Down this path the great God-man must have come many a time." I could not keep my tongue from speaking it. I was filled with a melting sense of the meekness and gentleness of Christ. If we ourselves could walk even as he walked! It was easy then and there to become as an infant before God, and to hear the baby song again:— Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child.
Why did I never so well understand before, how he humbled himself and took upon himself the form of a servant? How shameful appears that thing which we call pride, when we consider him! "He shall be called a Nazarene." So he was known among men by the lowest of titles. Jesus of Nazareth was the stigma that pursued him to the cross, and was written upon it. That one good thing that came out of Nazareth hath left a fragrance upon the very name of the Galilean town; a fragrance not to be dissipated by the years of a thousand generations. He was not called a Roman, but a Nazarene. O my Lord, with what weariness of feet didst thou climb these silent, solemn hills? If we could have been with thee then! If we could have put an arm of love around thee, to stay thy trembling steps, or could have spoken a word of love to cheer the sad Nazarene!

THE TOWN AND ITS OUTLOOK.

Nazareth is probably a larger town now than when Christ lived in it. It lies on the warm side of the hills, at a good elevation, and has some life and activity. There can be heard the sound of the hammer on the anvil, and other sounds of honest work. Here and there a new house was going up, seeming to testify that the little city has a future as well as a past. Yet there is nothing at all to keep the place alive; except that all men know that Jesus had here his home. But the name of Jesus is enough. We are told that Schliemann kept his Trojan excavation from being violated by inventing a story about Jesus Christ's having walked down the streets of Troy. If there be such power in the mere sound of the Messiah's name, what power must be in himself! There is a famous view to be had from the top of Nazareth hill. The ancient sea shines clear and broad, and the valley where rolls "that ancient river, the river Kishon." The mountains are round about Nazareth as they are about Jerusalem, and each of these "earth-works" has its own grandeur of outline and solemnity of color against that sweet Syrian sky. Tabor shows his round and shapely top over irregular masses of hills, like a helmeted head shining above a throng of common men. Carmel runs his long line seaward, his flanks shaggy with forests; and a forest-covered mountain is a welcome sight in this bare land, and reminds us of mountains we have seen beyond the sea. But in looking over "all that wide, extended scene," the one thought that blossoms like a flower in the heart, and leaps like a fountain to the lips, is: "The Lord himself looked upon this scene." Yea, that glorious landscape must have been painted in the depths of his pure eyes. What fountains of unfathomed tenderness were stirred within him, what urgent, quenchless fires of ambition to save were kindled as the shepherd's eye traveled from mountain to hill, and from valley to sea! He heard the sound of a prophet's voice, saying: "All Israel like sheep have gone astray; I saw Israel scattered upon the mountains." Then his heart made answer: "I am the good shepherd; I will bring again my sheep from all places whither they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day, I will feed them in a fat pasture, and in the high mountains of Israel shall their fold be." One real and solid delight which a Christian may have while traveling in the Holy Land, is that of thinking the thoughts of Christ after him. Of course, we may do this anywhere; but some of us will perhaps be more stimulated to think as he thought if we stand where he stood, and see what he saw. Farewell, then, to Nazareth, where the Son of God hid himself for thirty years! Farewell to the dun mountains of Israel! Farewell to its azure-flashing seas! Farewell to the rocks where, even in winter, the wind-flower tosses its various brightness! All these things may fade from the fresco of memory; or, like pictures in some dark hall, be lighted only by the rare and fitful fires of imagination. But the deep and gracious thoughts of sympathy with the Nazarene which we there cherished, these are written in the fleshly tablets of the heart, and cannot fail even when heart and flesh fail.

Nazareth.

The following description of Nazareth, by a recent traveler, is very interesting. I have always thought that the village of our Saviour's childhood must possess peculiar attractions to the traveler. The sight of Jerusalem loses in interest by the thought that everything is so changed since the time of the Saviour on earth. But with Nazareth it is different. The same scenery of mountain and sea still remain. The same hills—the same pathways over which he often traveled as a child, a boy, a young man! The thought is almost overwhelming.
But the important point with us is to realize our own relation to his incarnation, and to walk successfully the "narrow path" which he has marked out for his followers of every nation, kindred, tongue, and people.
J. H. W.

Self-Annihilation.

THERE is scarce any one who desires to serve God, but does so for selfish reasons; we expect gain and not loss, consolation and not suffering, riches and not poverty, increase and not diminution. But the whole interior work is of an opposite character: to be lost, sacrificed, made less than nothing, and despoiled of an excessive delight, even in the gifts of God, that we may be forced to cling to him alone.
We are like a patient eagerly desiring returning health, who feels his own pulse forty times a day, and requires his physician to prescribe frequent doses of various remedies, and to give him a daily assurance that he is getting better. Such is almost the only use we make of our spiritual conductors. We travel in a little round of every day virtues, never gathering sufficient courage to pass generously beyond it, and our guides, like the doctor, flatter, console, encourage, strengthen our selfish sensitiveness, and administer pleasant remedies, to the effects of which we soon become insensible.
The moment we find ourselves deprived of the delights of grace—that milk for babes—we are at once in despair; a manifest proof that we were looking to the means, instead of to the end, and solely for selfish gratification.
Privations are meat for men: by them the soul is rendered hardy, is separated from self, and offered in a pure sacrifice to God. But we give up all, the moment they commence. We cannot but think that everything is going to ruin, when, in fact, the foundations are just beginning to be solidly laid. Nothing would give us more delight than that God should do all his pleasure with us, provided it should always be to magnify and perfect us in our own eyes. But if we are not willing to be destroyed and annihilated, we shall never become that whole burnt offering, which is entirely consumed in the blaze of God's love.—Fenelon.
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