Review and Herald, Vol. 24, No. 15. (9/6/1864)

Review and Herald

Sep 6, 1864

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 6, 1864

TOBACCO ON MORALITY

Tobacco - Using. No. 9.

TOBACCO ON MORALITY.

HABITS that tend to degrade the body degrade the soul. A man's moral tastes will keep pace with his physical appetites. By carrying natural appetites beyond their bounds, he weakens his control over those propensities of his nature which are right in themselves, but which become vicious and immoral when suffered to overreach their appropriate limits. Again, by creating and indulging unnatural appetites not furnished by the Creator, but contrary to Nature's laws, he may not only look for the various penalties connected with those laws, but will find a tendency downward in his appreciation of moral obligations.

Licentiousness in eating and drinking prepares the way for licentiousness in other things. The effects of gormandizing on the stomach and brain, call into their immediate sympathy, influences that are besotting and demoralizing on mental tastes and habits. The effects of simple narcotic excitants on the nervous system, create a demand for other excitements, which can only be satisfied at the expense of moral principle and obligations to Divine command. Those very things introduced into the stomach, which fret the nerves, corrode, by sympathy, the finer feelings of the heart. By disturbing the equilibrium of physical action, they make turbid and morbid the disposition of the mind. Thus a licentious body will beget a licentious soul.

See the insanity of mind and heart produced by alcohol, even on those who do not indulge in continued intoxication. See its morbid influences on the disposition, and on the affections. It blunts the finer feelings of the heart, and turns the affectionate husband, brother, father, into a cold, unfeeling, inattentive marble. It makes him prize his drams more than the bread that feeds the inmates of his dwelling. Not less certain is the insanity from tobacco. Nay, its sovereign sway is more unyielding. The dram-drinker possibly may be deterred, by the means of starving children and the tears of a tender wife and mother, from spending the last sixpence to quench his eager thirst; but let the man who daily lays his money on tobacco's burning altar find himself unable to furnish a sum sufficient for this, and the supply of the requisite quantity of bread for his wife and children, and the quenchless embers of that fire would say, "WE MUST BE GRATIFIED." With that monster's grasp unclenched, there are no groans or woes, no fell disease, no withering, gradual, early-coming death, nor tears of widowed wives or hungry orphans' griefs in prospect, that can avail. No present wants of those dependent on his purse; no warm appeals to parental or connubial love; have eloquence enough to quell the riotings of lust, and persuade the worshipper of this god to cease this base idolatry, and this human sacrifice.

Tobacco blunts the conscience. Appetite and conscience would be at war in this affair, but conscience has lost its power; it is now seared with this scorching, scathing poison. To this form of sin its sensibilities are dead—its perceptive faculties are destroyed. The tobacco devotee knows his course is wrong. His judgment, reason, common sense, all conjoin their testimony that this is sin. Yet he heeds it not. Conscience has lost its power of utterance. It takes no just cognizance of the wrong, and therefore has no call to speak. The deacon of the church, who sees, and rightly too, the sin of even moderate steeping of the soul with liquor from the drunkard's cup, disciplines with godly fear his brother for his unchristian walk, but heeds not the Devil's smearings on his own polluted lips. With conscience wide awake to his brother's wrongs with the weaker bane, he himself, with the stronger poison in his mouth, goes on in sin. He lifts his hand to exclude his incorrigible brother for not withholding his lips from the destroying bowl; while he himself, unconscious-smitten, champs the accursed weed between his teeth, and rolls it as a sweet morsel under his tongue.

One excitant, as before stated, creates a demand for some other excitant. This explains the origin of the fact that so many bad physical habits become associated. Tobacco prepares the way for alcohol, by creating a dry, husky, parched feeling in the mouth and throat; and by creating also a sensation of faintness, and what is often called "a goneness" at the pit of the stomach. Alcohol creates a demand for tobacco, or some other excitant, in a similar way. This mutual relationship existing between these articles, makes it extremely important, that when a reform is entertained in regard to any of these, all others of this associated family should also be abandoned.

Tobacco greatly retards the progress of temperance; and in my opinion that cause can never make much further advancement, until the men who advocate it shall put away this deadly thing out of their mouths.

Men who quit their cups, and still hold on upon their chewing and smoking, are only about half reformed. They give up their drams, but take the more tobacco. What stimulus they deny themselves in one form, they supply in another. What is lost in alcohol, is gained fully in tobacco. And there is a close resemblance, in some points, between the two. Delirium tremens has been known to result from the use of tobacco. And while this excitant is continued, there is less certainty of the steadfastness of the reformed inebriate. There is great danger that the parched and hankering thirst produced by it, will draw him back to the intoxicating bowl.

Wrong physical and bad moral habits cluster together. They bear a kindred relation to each other, and generally appear in family groups. Rum and Tobacco long have been associated. They may certainly be called twin-brothers,—nay, more appropriately, twin-devils. And not these two evils only, join their hands: too often are there three that go together in triplet union, especially in the West and South. The three are Rum, Tobacco, and Profanity; indeed, another might be added, which is gambling. Not all who use the one indulge in the others; but generally the foulest words come from the foulest mouths. And from extensive observation through these United States, my settled conviction is, that RARELY CAN A PROFANE OATH BE FOUND ISSUING FROM A CLEAN MOUTH AND A PURE BREATH. As a general rule,—a rule with too few exceptions—the more reckless the bodily habits, and the larger the quantities of unnatural stimulants, the more reckless and profane the words that give utterance to the soul.

One bad habit makes a pathway for another. And after a second, there follows a third, a fourth, and onward, till a chain is formed, whose clanking sounds make known the residence of a spirit blackened with the stains of varied sins. The general standard of virtue will rise or fall with the comparative elevation or degradation of physical habits. The physical habits of individuals and of nations will grade the general level of their virtues. Intelligence and civilization have important bearings on the morals of any people; but by no means govern them. A people may be, and have been, very intelligent, and at the same time very wicked. But any people who will discipline their physical habits into obedience to natural laws, and practise self-denial on unlawful appetites, will be found to practise discipline and self-denial in other things. While those who know not self-denial, in their bodily habits, and let the reins of government fall into the hands of unrestrained indulgences of the mouth, are apt to know no self-denial, and no self-control in other matters. When animal appetites sway the sceptre in one case, the way is preparing for this sway to be carried in another, and another, till their government becomes universal. Hence, when we see individuals who do not practically recognize the duty of self-denial in their physical appetites, we may safely conclude that the standard of moral integrity is in a state of declension—that they do not practise self-denial upon habits which relate to moral character.

If parents, especially mothers, to whom is committed, in a large degree, the physical, intellectual, and moral growth and soundness of the rising generation,

would secure in their children right moral habits, let them watch diligently over their physical habits. If they would have them become more eminently moral, they must see that they are accustomed to obedience to their physical laws—that they use themselves to right physical habits. The more they are taught to regard the laws which the Creator has given to their bodies, the more they will be likely to regard his moral laws. They will also avoid those habits of body which draw after them practices that degrade moral character.

Let the mother remember, that while she neglects proper physical education of her children, she is neglecting her main foundation on which she may expect to edify them by intellectual and moral training; while she even indulges their right appetites and digestive organs with unnatural things, or with good things in an unnatural way or degree, she is paralyzing their susceptibilities to moral culture. An irritated stomach will beget an irritable disposition, and blunt the finer sensibilities of the soul. While children are allowed by their parents, or in after life allow themselves, to treat their own health and life in a reckless manner, they prepare the way for being reckless toward their fellow-men.

This accounts, in a fearful degree, for the apparently low and declining standard of virtue among us. Who can look upon the present standard of morality and integrity among the people of our own country, in comparison with what it was half a century or more since, without feeling convinced that it has not risen, but much declined? Did not the early history of our country give far greater signs of a healthful and vigorous state of moral feeling and sentiment, than can be found now? Where are the men who are ready to endure self-sacrificing toils and hardships for the salvation of their country? Where those ready to dedicate to its welfare "their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor?" Where are the men—where their rising race? and echo answers—where? But few and far between are they who seek not more the promotion of self than their country's good. If we look for moral honesty and political integrity among the ranks of politicians, we search for commodities of rare value, because of their great scarcity. Look at the rapid increase of thefts and robberies committed on the treasury of the country, by men holding offices of state. Look at the bickerings of party factions, growing hotter and hotter with human wrath.

If our country's rights were invaded—if her civil rights and religious freedom were threatened with ruin by an inimical nation—it is to be feared that few would be found, among the statesmen of this day, who would as devoutly lay themselves upon their country's altar, from motives of pure patriotism, as did the pioneers of the Revolution. There are men enough who would go to the battle-field,—men enough to perpetrate the horrors of war, whether that war were right or wrong, offensive or defensive, avoidable or unavoidable,—men enough ready to fight; for their habits of life have been such as have promoted the warring propensities of their natures. Their habits have been adapted to give an over balance of action to the combative and destructive organs of the brain.

But the momentous inquiry returns; where are the men like our country's fathers, who purchased our freedom with their blood? where the men who would come to rescue; not because they love the fight, but because they love their country's rights? Where are the men of high moral worth—men with large souls—men in whom the animal instincts are held in subjection, and sanctified by the higher powers of human nature? These are few, very few, compared with the men who lived half a century ago. And where need we look for the cause? Where, but to the physical depravity of the age? Here lies the great, if not the sole cause, of this moral declension. By degrading the physical, they have degraded their moral nature.

This physical cause does not consist alone in tobacco-using, but in various other unnatural indulgences. The Teas and the Coffees resemble in their nature and effects the articles Alcohol and Tobacco. They are as truly harmful, but are not so powerful. Tea intoxicates the nerves, but not to the same degree as spirituous liquors. Coffee possesses a large amount of sedative poison, but not the potency of tobacco. There is no habit of the age, there is no unnatural luxury attached to this generation, that is so deadly—so at war with human vitality—as depreciating to the physical, intellectual, and moral soundness of men, as that now under consideration. It is the major-general, leading the great army of invaders which array themselves against human life and human virtue.

Our country is increasing in Intelligence, but not in Virtue. These two form the basis of any successful republican government. These are the two great pillars on which such an organization must be founded in order to endure. One of those is increasing in strength; but, with all due charity, and due allowance for difference of circumstances, are we not compelled to think the other is too fast losing its power? Look not only at men in political life, but men in business life. In these days, where shall we find an honest man? We are almost hourly shocked with the most unlooked for developments of wickedness lurking where we least expected it. We meet with sudden wrecks of honor here, and of virtue there, which shake the foundations of all human confidence.

If there is a decline in the moral standard, the question comes, and should be well considered, what are the causes? To show one cause, and a certain one, must now suffice. It is the disregard which the American people pay to the laws of physical life. Their recklessness of the laws of their own animal life leads to recklessness of social and moral obligations, while they trample fearlessly upon their own vitality, they grow heartless and improvident of the vital interests of all others. There probably is no nation, considering the light they have, where the standard of moral honesty is so low; and there certainly is no nation, civilized or uncivilized, that is living in so extensive violation of natural law as the Americans. When our fathers made bean-porridge their luxury, they enjoyed not only the fruit of that simplicity in their bodily soundness and longevity, but maintained sound and healthful morals. So, if we would bring back to us the sunny days of that favored period, we must bring back its simplicity of living. Parents must accustom their sons and daughters to such physical habits as will, under Providence, give them sound bodies, and they will have comparatively sound minds and sound morals. Men and women must put away their artificial excitants, that embarrass the healthful functions of nature, and mar their bodily, mental, and moral soundness.

Tobacco is a prominent member of the family of excitants. It may be said that our fathers used it, and lived a moral life, and to old age. So they did use it to some extent; but their other habits were far better than ours; and they used less in quantity, and fewer in number were devoted to it, in proportion to the population. One bad habit may not at once destroy body or soul. But now, this deadly article stands at the head of an army of unhallowed agencies. It enslaves with a more inveterate grasp, and binds with more enduring bands, than any other; and draws into its wake many coadjutors in its work of physical, mental, and moral degradation. To reform these, we must first slay the tyrant that heads the army of our physical foes.

Prayer, Sweet Prayer.

WHEN torn is the bosom by sorrow and care, Be it ever so simple, there is nothing like prayer; It eases, soothes, softens, subdues, yet restrains, Gives vigor to hope, and puts passion in chains. Prayer, prayer, oh, sweet prayer! Be it ever so simple, there's nothing like prayer.

When far from the friends we hold dearest, we part, What fond recollections still cling to the heart; Past converse, past scenes, past enjoyment are there; Oh how hurtfully pleasing, till hallowed by prayer. Prayer, prayer, oh, sweet prayer! Be it ever so simple, there's nothing like prayer.

When pleasure would woo us from piety's arms, The siren sings sweetly, or silently charms, We listen, love, loiter, are caught in the snare; On looking to Jesus, we conquer by prayer. Prayer, prayer, oh, sweet prayer! Be it ever so simple, there's nothing like prayer.

While strangers to prayer, we're strangers to bliss; Heaven pours its full streams through no medium but this: And till we the seraph's full ecstasy share, Our chalice of joy must be guarded by prayer. Prayer, prayer, oh, sweet prayer! Be it ever so simple, there's nothing like prayer.

On Prayer.

By Jos. Clarke

“PRAYER is the burden of a sigh: The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.”

We would speak reverentially of prayer, the greatest privilege granted to mortals, the hope of fallen man, the means by which alone he can approach to God through Christ. Prayer is the refuge of the oppressed and afflicted, the comfort of the mourner, and the strong hold of the defenceless. And while mercy extends her arms, prayer is the appointed channel of reconciliation between God and man.

But like every thing else with which man is connected, this has become corrupted, and few now fully understand how properly to approach God under all circumstances. At the present time, a pulpit prayer, is a kind of set speech to God, so framed as to charm and please the ear of man; and often when persons from formal churches embrace present truth, they bring these relics with them.

I cannot describe their prayers, they are fulsome mockery, hypocritical adulation, often delivered in a tone which is enough to disgust and fatigue a congregation ununed to such things, in a short period of time: how much more when spun out to a hopeless length, extending, enlarging, comprehending Jew, Gentile, Hindoo, and Turk, islands and continents, until like the breath of a feverish volcano, in full blast, they deaden and suffocate the congregation. Alas, alas! the minister arises from his knees apparently much edified with his effort, and self-deluded, supposes his audience in the same complacent state of mind.

Then in social prayer, often the same spirit manifests itself in some degree, and deadness, leanness, coldness is the result. Some will not be corrected, and persist in long addresses to God, alike disgusting to man, and abominable in the sight of him whom they address.

My own views of prayer have been greatly modified since embracing present truth, and associating with those who had long been under its influence, and submitting my own preconceived views to such as I saw were under a holy influence, and wielding a mighty power for good. When with such a people, I have tried to learn their ways, and thus far I have found them safe and sure examples of correct principles. Therefore I leave the decayed platform of tradition, and find that wisdom points to a pleasant path, in her common sense way, avoiding everything tiresome and disgusting.

I am tired of long prayers, and tedious beginnings and endings, and terrific, sulphuric, exhortations, and frightful representation of the burning ever-present hell of the immaterialist; and I warn those who have been in the habit for many years of giving such heathenish discourses, against bringing such leaven into the third message. Our experienced messengers are free from it, thank God. Let us all be free from it; for be sure that those who come out under the call of the third message, have a fine ear for detecting all such demonstrations.

A short prayer in public is generally the best. Indeed I never heard a long prayer from the lips of any of our experienced and devoted leaders; and I wish I could say as much of all the humbler ones; or at least those who should be humble.

A man who fears God shows this reverential fear in his tone and manner; while another by his tone and manner, not only drives away good angels, but shocks his fellows by his coarse, hollow, familiar, mode of address, and by his endeavors to polish his sentences, and enlarge upon ideas.

An ancient and excellent writer says, that a good man has always with him a holy fear in all he does. Oh for this holy fear! to come with it before God! to have it in such a degree, as to be in a teachable position. Those coming from a fallen decayed church have everything to learn. Oh for a childlike disposition, teachable, and mild.

I aim at no particular one in this essay, but know that it will apply to many. Especially will I test myself. And permit me here to repeat the best rule I have yet heard for prayer. In secret prayer hold on long, and embrace all within the scope of your desires;

but in public, seek for a present blessing, and do not wander far from the present company, and their especial wants. Be fervent, brief, sententious, and to the point. Jos. CLARKE.

Drunkenness in the Army

An army correspondent speaking of drunkenness in the army, says: It is no secret that Gen. Ledlie, who has been recently relieved, is a very intemperate man; so much so that the soldiers complain bitterly that they should be led to slaughter to appease his whisky courage. There are other division commanders, one from Pennsylvania, whom I would particularly mention, whose drunkenness is so notorious that his troops expect to find him intoxicated on every occasion. His orderly is frequently obliged to take his horse by the rein and turn him away from the purpose of hurling himself madly into the hands of the enemy.—Sel.

"Who Shall be Able to Stand?"

By J. Morrison

"For the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able to stand?"—Rev. vi, 17.

READER, 'tis a solemn question. It concerns you and me, and every one of us. Read it again; think well about it before you attempt to answer it. It cannot be answered thoughtlessly, if considered prayerfully. Oh, reader, think me not trifling when I ask you to ponder this deeply solemn question. "Who shall be able to stand"—"to stand" the terrors of that day of wrath; "to stand" the all-searching eye of God; "to stand" the test of the judgment; "to stand" when the unconverted shall be banished from God's presence forever; "to stand" when you shall hear the sentence "depart from me ye cursed," (see Matt. xxv, 41-46); "to stand" when this world shall be wrapt in flames of fire, (see 2 Pet. iii.,) "to stand" when the wails of the damned shall sink deeper and deeper in perdition, and the songs of the redeemed rise higher and higher in glory! Will you—oh will you "be able to stand?" Can you say from your very heart—

"Bold shall I stand in that great day, For who aught to my charge shall lay! Fully absolved from these I am, From sin, and fear, and guilt and shame."

That "great day" of "God's wrath" to the wicked, but of "redemption" to the righteous, is coming fast; "it hasteth greatly;" it will soon be here. "That day," dreaded by sinners, hated by devils, scoffed at by skeptics and worldly-minded professors of religion, will soon, very soon, be here. That "great day," "longed for" by prophets and apostles, sighed for by martyrs, and wished for by all true saints, will soon, very soon be here. Are you a scoffer of this solemn and awful truth? Then you would not be able "to stand." Are you a Sabbath-breaker, a blasphemer, a liar, an adulterer, a pleasure-seeker, a covetous man, a drunkard?—in short, are you yet unconverted? Have you never been born again, your sins forgiven, and your wicked heart changed? If not you would not be able "to stand." Are you a backslider, minister, or church member? Are you feeding yourself, and not "the flock?" Are you a dead formalist, or poor moralist? are you a worldly-minded professor, instead of being a "heavenly" minded Christian? Are you "cold," instead of "hot?" Are you "dead in trespasses and sins," instead of living "in Christ?" If so, if you are indulging in any sin, you will not be able "to stand."

Great God! who then, shall be able "to stand?" Only "the righteous," only the "sin forgiven," only the "blood washed," only "the redeemed," only sinners "saved by grace." None there shall "stand" and say, I "saved myself," or boast, saying, "our works and deservings saved us." Oh no, thanks be to God, the swelling chorus, loud as mighty thunders, will then ascend "forever and ever:" "For thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people and nation." And then hear the glorious refrain: "Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." Rev. v, 9-12. Amen and amen.

Reader, if you are unsaved, come to Christ, where you are, as you are, and take "the gift" of salvation. Christian, a word to thee: cling to Christ. Minister, a word to thee: hold up Christ, preach Christ, and so doing, thou shalt "stand" now and evermore. Great God! shall I, even I, be able "to stand?" Holy Spirit, enforce the solemn question to every reader's conscience, and lead us all to "the blood of Christ," which "cleaneth from all sin." Amen.—J. MORRISON, in Advent Herald.

The Summer of 1864.

The New York Commercial Advertiser has the following in reference to our hot, dry summer: The summer of 1848 was known in Europe as the "Battle Summer." Many conflicts then took place, indeed, all over Europe, and among them the ferocious struggle of society itself for life, in the streets of Paris, which will forever blaze in history as the "Days of June." The summer of 1848 was also one of the most intolerably oppressive summers in respect of heat which the century has known.

The summer of 1864 has been a "Battle Summer" in America. In no year of the war have so many and such sanguinary conflicts taken place during the summer months as in this; and the summer of 1864 is also destined to be remembered for the burning fervor of its atmosphere. Whether there be any subtle connection between gunpowder and human passions on the one hand, and the aspirations of the thermometer on the other, we cannot pretend to say.

It is certain that since the year 1834, no summer of such intense and continous heat has been known in the Eastern States of the Union. The "spears of the far-darting Apollo" is scarcely a metaphorical phrase to describe the effect of the sun's rays, striking steadily down upon the earth through long days and weeks of drought, parching the earth and smiting man and beast with disease, exhaustion and death. The heat has been like the heat of Syria, and it sunbeams like swords.

From the 10th of June to the 16th of August the average temperature of the North Atlantic States has been greater than the mean temperature for the same period at Cairo.—Detroit Tribune.

The Christian's Path.

I WALK as one who knows that he is treading     A stranger soil; As one round whom the world is spreading     Its subtle coil.

I walk as one but yesterday delivered     From a sharp chain; Who trembles lest the bonds so newly sever'd     Be bound again.

I walk as one who feels that he is breathing     Ungenial air; For whom as wiles the tempter still is wreathing     The bright and fair.

My steps, I know, are on the plains of danger,     For sin is near; But looking up, I pass along, a stranger,     In haste and fear.

This earth has lost its power to drag me downward;     Its spell is gone; My course is now right upward and right onward,     To yonder throne.

Hour after hour of time's dark night is stealing     In gloom away; Speed Thy fair dawn of light, and joy, and healing,     Thou Star of day!

For Thee, its God, its King, the long-rejected,     Earth groans and cries; For thee, the long-beloved, the long-expected,     Thy church still sighs!                                         [Bonar.]

God in Nature.

By Prof. Shedd

When Napoleon was returning from his campaign in Egypt and Syria, he was seated one night upon the deck of the vessel under the open canopy of the heavens, surrounded by his captains and generals. The conversation had taken a skeptical direction, and most of the party had combatted the doctrine of Divine Existence. Napoleon sat silent and musing, apparently taking no interest in the discussion, when suddenly raising his hand, and pointing at the crystalline firmament, crowded with its mildly shining planets and its keen glittering stars, he broke out in those startling tones that so often electrified millions: "Gentlemen, who made all that?" The "eternal power and godhead" of the Creator are impressed by "the things that are made;"; and these words of Napoleon to his atheistic captains silenced them. And the same impression is made the world over. Go to-day into the heart of Africa, or into the center of New Holland; select the most imbruted pagan that can be found; take him out under a clear star-lit heaven, and ask him who made all that, and the idea of a Superior Being, superior to all his fetiches and idols, possessing eternal power and godhead, immediately immerges in his consciousness. The instant the missionary takes this lustful idolater away from the circle of his idols, and brings him face to face with the heavens and the earth, as Napoleon brought his captains, constitutional idea dawns again, and the pagan trembles before the Unseen Power.—Prof. Shedd.

An Every-day Christian.

"YOUR minister is very popular ; if his meeting-house was large enough, I suppose it would swallow the other congregations of the town."

The sarcastic tone and manner of utterance indicated the ill feeling of the speaker, as he addressed these words to a servant-girl of the minister's family, with the design of drawing from her a spirited perhaps angry reply. But she modestly made answer, "If people will come to hear our minister, is it his fault that he is popular? I do not presume to judge of his sermons; but this I can testify, he is an humble, every-day Christian."

"How interesting our young brother C. is in our prayer-meetings! How clearly we can perceive his growth in piety!" remarked a lady to a Christian sister, as they met one day. Her reply was: "I have for a long time been unable to attend evening meetings, but C. boarded in my family some months, and I observed his principle in little things. I know him to be an every-day Christian!"

This pastor, this brother, were members of the same church, and I wondered if like blessed testimony could be borne concerning all the members of that flock.

An every-day Christian! To me the expression seemed full of significance. Then I thought of some homes I knew, where, though both parents are professedly followers of Jesus, there is no family altar, no recognition of God in the gifts of his providence, no talking of Christ and of the things of his kingdom.

I thought of other homes where forms of family devotion are strictly observed, yet all the life, fervor, and cheerfulness of true piety are lacking ; and one would almost fail to discern likeness to Jesus in the character of either father or mother, bearing that precious title, Christian.

Oh, when we shall each learn fervently to pray that we may "walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing," then shall we receive grace to become, in truth, every-day Christians.—Tract Journal.

Preaching.

Be simple in your preaching, Jesus was—Paul was—and all successful preachers have been so.

Be not too rapid, such preaching is like the hasty shower, rather imitate the steady rain, which soaks, softens, fructifies.

Preach down sin, and preach up holiness.

Preach down self, and preach up Christ.

Preach prayerfully as before God.

Preach to the conscience and the heart.

Aim to please God in every sermon, and in every sentence.

Never let the flock stray for want of pasture; let there be food for the soul in every sermon.

It is grievous to think how many go away from sermons with the word of grace in their ears, but not the work of grace in their hearts.—Ex.

Detroit’s Growing Crime

The Detroit Tribune speaking of a recent terrible murder in that city, says: ‘Detroit is fast becoming notorious for homicides, robberies and other crimes of more or less magnitude, and if she keeps on, will soon rank with other cities of larger population, where heinous crimes are of common occurrence. Our citizens have been taught to regard a murder perpetrated in their midst, with a sort of thrilling horror, and we are happy to say that but few such occurrences have taken place. We have recently had one on Mullet street, one on Woodbridge street, one on Waterloo street, and one that happened about two weeks ago, and now we have another, which for brutality—if we may be allowed to use the phrase—exceeds all the others.’

Questions.

By John Norton Loughborough

Will Brn. Smith or Loughborough, explain the following passage: Dan. xii, 6, 7.

1. "How long shall it be to the end of these wonders . . . It shall be for a time, times, and an half." What were "those wonders" that were to end with the 1260 years?

2. "And when he shall have accomplished to scatter the power of the holy people all these things shall be finished."

What does the pronoun he denote? In what consists the power that is scattered?

REPLY.—On the first of the above questions we would say: that we understand that the wonders which were to end with the 1260 years were the wonderful blasphemous works of the little horn—the Papacy—especially as presented in chapter xi, 31-36;—"And arms shall stand on his part, and they shall pollute the sanctuary of strength, and shall take away the daily sacrifice, and they shall place the abomination that maketh desolate. And such as do wickedly against the covenant shall he corrupt by flatteries; but the people that do know their God shall be strong and do exploits. And they that understand among the people shall instruct many; yet they shall fall by the sword, and by flame, by captivity, and by spoil, many days. Now when they shall fall, they shall be holped with a little help; but many shall cleave to them with flatteries. And some of them of understanding shall fall, to try them, and to purge, and to make them white, even to the time of the end; because it is yet for a time appointed. And the king shall do according to his will: and he shall exalt himself, and magnify himself above every god, and shall speak marvelous things against the God of gods, and shall prosper till the indignation be accomplished; for that that is determined shall be done."

On the second question: We understand the he spoken of as scattering "the power of the holy people" is the Papacy. The scattering of their power seems to be a work limited to the 1260 years during which time the Papacy has indignation against God's people. The scattering of their power is not as some have claimed the spreading of the truth; for more of that work has been accomplished this side the 1260 years than before, but this scattering seems to be limited to the 1260 years the time in which God's people are falling by the hand of their persecutors.

On the third question as to "what constitutes the power that is scattered," we would say: We understand the great aim of the Papacy was to break up the efforts of God's people to unite and concentrate their efforts. In union is the strength of God's people, but the Papacy denounced and persecuted their assembling together and called all extravagant mad men who dared to menace their anathemas. Thus the power of God's people was crippled and scattered. And indeed as the Saviour testified except those days had been shortened no flesh should have been saved. "When he shall have accomplished to scatter the power." That is, when its great predicted work of persecution and war against the church, its indignation against the covenant and desolating of God's sanctuary, its corrupting of many of God's people with flatteries and thus causing them to cleave to her;—when this work shall cease then the power of the holy people shall be no longer scattered. Then, these great wonders would cease. So we understand it.

Topsham, Aug. 24th, 1864.

Do You Want the Paper?

By Editor

Brethren sometimes write stating that they must stop the paper as they are not able to pay for it. We take all such declarations to be an honest statement of facts; that is, that the individual through some means, misfortune, sickness, failure of crops, or some good cause, finds himself in reality unable to spare an amount equal to the subscription price of this paper, without embarrassing him in relation to the actual necessaries of life. Now, brethren, need the pay be a question with such ones at all! Shall it not rather be, Do you want the paper? Shall not the same liberal terms be continued, that have heretofore been held out, that delinquents would be settled with on their own terms; that we would take any proportion of their indebtedness which they were able to pay, or if they were not able to pay anything, and still wanted the paper, their indebtedness would be canceled; always excepting of course, those who would feel at liberty to take the amount with which they otherwise might have paid for the Review, and expend it for some unnecessary indulgence.

We repeat the question therefore, Do you want the paper? Do you love the truth it advocates? Is your heart in sympathy with the work of which this paper is the exponent; and is it a help to you in endeavoring to live the Christian life? Then you ought to have the paper. And there are thousands in the land we believe who would make almost any sacrifice, rather than that one sincere honest soul should be deprived of the benefits of this publication. There are thousands who take the correct views of this subject, namely—that any dollar retained to swell a hoarded pile, which is needed in the cause of truth in any manner, does not add a particle to the wealth of that individual; for the blessing of God will not follow the investment of that dollar in any other manner; and any business which does not have the approbation and blessing of God, is a losing business. Will not such see that the lack is fully made up caused by sending the Review free to the worthy poor?

Therefore even in these times of high prices, when, in order to continue the Review at its present price, it is necessary that an equivalent should be received for every copy sent out, and when some papers that do not present more than two-thirds the reading matter of the Review, have raised their subscription price to three dollars a year, do you not say, brethren, Let the Review be circulated, and let all have it, who sincerely wish it, and would be benefited by it? And would you not rather send in donations to send the Review to two unworthy ones, rather than that one who is worthy should be deprived of it? And would you not further respond, Let no feelings of delicacy deter any one from calling for the Review because they are honestly unable to pay, if they feel that they can receive it, and peruse it to the glory of God. Then we trust that you will see that this department of the treasury is well supplied. See remarks by Bro. White on "What shall be done?" in another column.

Continue reading: The Times in which We Live!