Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Feb 8, 1883
General Articles.
By Mrs. E. G. White
Brotherly Love.
BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.
(Concluded.)
"Be ye therefore followers of God as dear children; and walk in love, as Christ also hath loved us, and hath given himself for us an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savor." Man by wicked works alienated himself from God, but Christ gave his life that all who would, might be freed from sin and re-instated in the favor of the Creator. It was the anticipation of a redeemed, holy universe that prompted Christ to make this great sacrifice. Have we accepted the blessings so dearly purchased? Are we following God as dear children, or are we servants of darkness? Are we worshipers of Baal? of the living God, or of idols?
No one may be visible, there may be no image for us to rest upon, yet we may be practically worshiping. It is as easy to make an idol of cherished thoughts and objects as to fashion gods of wood or stone. Many minds have a false conception of God and his attributes. They are as verily serving a false god as were the servants of Baal. Are we worshiping the true God as he is revealed in his word, the Christ, in nature, or are we adoring some philosophical idol enshrined in his place? God is a God of truth. Justice and mercy are the attributes of his throne. He is a God of love, of pity, and tender compassion. Thus he is represented in his Son, our Saviour. He is a God of patience and long-suffering. If such is the being whom we adore, and to whose character we are seeking to assimilate, we are worshiping the true God.
If we are following Christ, his merits, imputed to us, come up before the Father as sweet odor. And the graces of our Saviour's character, implanted in our hearts, will shed around us a precious fragrance. The spirit of love, meekness, and forbearance, pervading our life, will have power to soften and subdue hard hearts, and win to Christ bitter opposers of the faith.
"Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others." "Do all things without murmurings and disputings; that ye may be blameless, and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world."
Vainglory, selfish ambition, is the rock upon which many souls have been wrecked, and many churches rendered powerless. Those who know least of devotion, who are least connected with God, are the ones who will most eagerly seek the highest place. They have no sense of their weakness and their deficiencies of character. Unless many of our young ministers shall feel the converting power of God, their labors will be a hindrance rather than a help to the church. They may have learned the doctrines of Christ, but they have not learned Christ. The soul that is constantly looking unto Jesus will see his self-denying love and deep humility, and will copy his example. Pride, ambition, deceit, hatred, selfishness, must be cleansed from the heart. With many, these evil traits are partially subdued, but not thoroughly uprooted from the heart. Under favorable circumstances they spring up anew, and ripen into rebellion against God. Here lies a terrible danger. To spare any sin is to cherish a foe that only awaits an unguarded moment to cause our ruin.
Ministers should see that their own hearts are sanctified through the truth, and then labor to secure these results for their converts. It is pure religion that ministers and people need. Those who put away iniquity from their hearts, and stretch out their hands in earnest supplication unto God will have that help which he alone can give them. A ransom has been paid for the souls of men, that they may have an opportunity to escape from the thralldom of sin, and obtain pardon, purity, and Heaven. God hears the cry of the lowly and contrite. Those who frequent the throne of grace, offering up sincere, earnest petitions for divine wisdom and power, will not fail to become active, useful servants of Christ. They may not possess great talents, but with humility of heart, and firm reliance upon Jesus, they may do a good work in bringing souls to Christ. They can reach men through God. Ministers of Christ should ever feel that a sacred work engages all their souls, their efforts should be for the edification of the body of Christ, and not to exalt themselves before the people. And while Christians should esteem the faithful minister as Christ's ambassador, they should avoid all praise of the man.
"Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him show out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom." My brethren and sisters, how are you employing the gift of speech? Have you learned so to control the tongue that it shall ever obey the dictates of an enlightened conscience and holy affections? Is your conversation free from levity, pride and malice, deceit and impurity? Are you without guile before God? Words exert a telling62power. Satan will, if possible, keep the tongue active in his service. Of ourselves we cannot control the unruly member. Divine grace is our only hope. Those who are eagerly studying how they may secure the pre-eminence, should study rather how they may gain that wisdom which is "first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy." He who has Christ formed within, the hope of glory, will "show out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom."
Peter exhorts the believers: "Be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another; love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous; not rendering evil for evil, or railing for railing; but contrariwise blessing; knowing that ye are thereunto called, that ye should inherit a blessing. For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile; let him eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace, and ensue it. For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers; but the face of the Lord is against them that do evil."
When the right way is so plainly marked out, why do not the professed people of God walk in it? Why do they not study and pray and labor earnestly to be of one mind? Why do they not seek to cherish compassion for one another, to love as brethren, instead of rendering evil for evil, and railing for railing? Who does not love life and desire good days? yet how few comply with the conditions, to refrain the tongue from evil, and the lips from speaking guile. Few are willing to follow the Saviour's example of meekness and humility. Many ask the Lord to humble them, but are unwilling to submit to the needful discipline. When the test comes, when trials or even annoyances occur, the heart rebels, and the tongue utters words that are like poisoned arrows or blasting hail.
Evil-speaking is a two-fold curse, falling more heavily upon the speaker than upon the hearer. He who scatters the seeds of dissension and strife, reaps in his own soul the deadly fruits. How miserable is the tale-bearer, the surmiser of evil! He is a stranger to true happiness.
"Blessed are the peacemakers." Grace and peace rest upon those who refuse to join in the strife of tongues. When venders of scandal are passing from family to family, those who fear God will be chaste keepers at home. The time that is so often worse than wasted in idle, frivolous, and malicious gossip, should be given to higher and nobler objects. If the professed followers of Jesus would indeed become missionaries for God, visiting the sick and afflicted, and laboring patiently and kindly for the erring--in short, if they would copy the Pattern--the church would have prosperity in all her borders.
The sin of evil-speaking begins with the cherishing of evil thoughts. Guile includes impurity in all its forms. An impure thought tolerated, an unholy desire cherished, and the soul is contaminated, its integrity compromised. "Then, when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death." If we would not commit sin, we must shun its very beginnings. Every emotion and desire must be held in subjection to reason and conscience. Every unholy thought must be instantly repelled. To your closet, followers of Christ. Pray in faith, and with all the heart. Satan is watching to ensnare your feet. You must have help from above if you would escape his devices.
By faith and prayer all may meet the requirements of the gospel. No man can be forced to transgress. His own consent must be first gained; the soul must purpose the sinful act, before passion can dominate over reason, or iniquity triumph over conscience. Temptation, however strong, is never an excuse for sin. "The eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayers." Cry unto the Lord, tempted soul. Cast yourself, helpless, unworthy, upon Jesus, and claim this very promise. The Lord will hear. He knows how strong are the inclinations of the natural heart, and he will help in every time of temptation.
Have you fallen into sin? Then without delay seek God for mercy and pardon. When David was convicted of his sin, he poured out his soul in penitence and humiliation before God. He felt that he could endure the loss of his crown, but he could not be deprived of the favor of God. Mercy is still extended to the sinner. The Lord is calling to us in all our wanderings, "Return, ye backsliding children, and I will heal your backslidings." The blessing of God may be ours, if we will heed the pleading voice of his Spirit. "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him."
COME AND SEE.
By Anna L. Price
Master, where dwellest thou? He saith unto them, Come and see!—John 1:38, 39.
COME and see where He dwelleth,
And the love that there excelleth;
Peace to calm the troubled waters,
O, ye weary sons and daughters,
Come and see!
Come and see the strength to bear you
Through the toils that else would wear you;
Pity for those sorrows hidden,
Help to do the "all things" bidden.
Come and see.
Wisdom that mistaketh never,
Fellowship death cannot sever;
Patience whence your soul may gather
Quietness in vexing weather.
Come and see.
Come and see compassion written
On a heart for others smitten;
Visage marred, but now resplendent,
Far beyond all earth transcendent.
Come and see.
Come and see a Friend that clingeth
Closer when the storm-cry ringeth;
Listen to the voice so cheering,
Of a better time that's nearing.
Come and see.
Come and see the promise graven,
Of remaining rest in Heaven;
Peace I leave you, peace bequeath you,
Crosses now, but crowns shall wreathe you.
Come and see.
Come and see, 'tis Christ, none other,
Jesus, Master, Elder Brother,
Who lived, who died, who liveth for us,
And o'er all shall reign victorious.
Come and see! —Anna L. Price.
The Hand on the Head.
By Charles S. Robinson
THE question is often asked, How much did devout people under the old dispensation know of true evangelical piety? Ought they in any proper sense of the word to be called Christians? It is even thought to be very witty occasionally to test the forms of modern phraseology upon Old Testament cases. Did Rahab ever "experience religion"? Did Solomon have reason to suppose he had "met with a change"? Did Job ever "take a stand for Christ"? Was Abraham successful in seeking "the evidences"? Is it anywhere stated in the history that Naomi really "obtained a hope"?
One thing at least is clear; the believers of the former dispensation were carefully trained under teaching which more openly laid hold of every-day life and character, even if it did have something less to say about mere emotional experience than that which is in vogue in these restless times of ours. The grand doctrines of justification by faith, pardon on the ground of an available and meritorious sacrifice, the imputation of personal guilt to a vicarious victim dying as a substitute,—these were the staple instructions of Old Testament saints and their children. We can find only this in the ritual and the prophecy, in the history, in the proverb, in the psalm. From the earliest day of inspired revelation, when clothing of skins was provided for Adam and Eve; from the morning when Abel's offering was accepted and Cain's was refused, only one theory of human salvation can be discovered. A blood-atonement alone avails for each transgressor's redemption from the law's curse.
Hence it makes no difference how far back in the Bible we begin our study of theology; the gospel in Leviticus is the same as the gospel in the Apocalypse. The ceremonies were in all cases sermons. They were not designed or intended to be specifically local or exclusive in their reach. Moses only pictured what Paul preached.
Now here in the chapter which describes the burnt-offering ordained for Israel, we have what at first sight seems a somewhat repulsive ceremonial: A bullock is slain, and its body torn into pieces, its head, inwards, legs, and fat being distributed in a rough way around the door of the tabernacle, afterwards to be burned upon the altar, while its blood is sprinkled over almost everything in the place; and this is declared to be "a sweet savor unto the Lord."
We have no relish for such exhibitions. In order to relieve the story of repulsiveness we are positively forced to inquire what it means. Explanations are given too plain to be mistaken. The entire scene was imaginative and picturesque. The priest Aaron must be understood as vividly putting a spiritual significance forth into a sensuous ceremonial. Here is a condemned sinner in process of restoration by a bloody sacrifice to divine favor and pardon. It is worth our while to press our way through the multiplied details, and we shall find a New Testament doctrine in the form of object-teaching employed in this familiar Old Testament act.
The first thing to be settled in every case was the guilt of the individual. If he were not a sinner, he would have no need of an atonement. This he must see and confess for himself. Conviction of sin, penitence for sin, longing to be rid of sin, cannot be bestowed or wrought by another man. And just here is the significance of the expression we find in the commandment. Leviticus 1:3. Each person might choose his own gift to bring to the altar, but must offer it "of his own voluntary will." This is just the gospel put into utterance for the first time: "Whosoever will, let him come." The man's act of coming to the priest, with an intention to make a sacrifice, was an open acknowledgment that he was a guilty sinner.
Next in order to this must be the providing of a victim which might take the sinner's place as a substitute. The law had said in unmistakable terms: "The soul that sinneth, it shall die." Death can be inflicted only upon a living being; so the sacrifice must be of a creature which was alive. "It is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul." Lev. 17:11. So the New Testament: "Without shedding of blood is no remission." Hence Cain's offering in the early sacrifice failed, while Abel's succeeded; for Cain brought only vegetable first-fruits, but Abel brought animal; these last had life, the others had not. If a sinner were to be relieved from dying, then something which could die must be put in his place. Here in the chapter we see that a fair and generous margin for choice of substitutes was to be allowed, according to one's poverty or wealth. It might be a bullock, or it might be a turtle-dove; it might be an offering from the herd or the flock, or a young pigeon. The essential thing was that it should be a perfect creature without blemish, and that it should be alive. We all understand now that in these particulars an immediate reference was made in a figure to "the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot."
Look, then, upon our picture: An Israelite stands before the priest with his victim for sacrifice; he knows and confesses he is guilty, and he now seeks relief; this animal is to suffer in his behalf. Of course, the next step in the process must be the identifying of the man with his offering. The grace and profit of the act did not at all reside in the principle of surrender of property to God; the individual was not credited with the merit of becoming the poorer by a lamb, a bullock, or a pigeon. It was the life of an animal in itself sinless and altogether unoffending before God, now taken in the place of the life of a transgressor already forfeited by rebellion and lying under condemnation of the law, which gave the whole transaction its significance and value. So these two living creatures, the man and the victim, must be made publicly to assume some sort of relationship to each other, in order that a transference of judicial condition could be effected between them.
For this there was chosen a slender ceremonial as simple as it was effective. See verse 4. The person who offered the sacrifice must "put his hand upon the head of the burnt-offering; and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him." The meaning of an impressive gesture like this was instantly clear; it was as if the man said: "I constitute this animal my representative; whatever is hereafter done to it is done to me. I pass over my penalties under the law to it; I take my sins with my own hands and lay them on its head; it now stands for me, and becomes my substitute in life and in death; it makes my atonement for all the past sins I have done."
Too much, therefore, cannot be made of this part of the ceremonial. Indeed, it can be followed all around through the ritual of the old dispensation. When the priests were consecrated (Ex. 29:10, 15), Aaron and his sons were to "put their hands upon the head of the bullock," and afterwards "put their hands upon the head of the ram." When the peace-offering was ordained, the same ceremonial must be observed. Lev. 3:2, 8, 14. The victim might be a bullock, it might be a lamb, it might be a goat; but whatever it should be, the command was unwavering: "He shall lay his hand upon the head of his offering." So in every case, from the sacrifice for inadvertence up to the awful ceremony of the great day of atonement, when the scapegoat was sent away into the wilderness, the laying on of hands was prescribed as an indispensable thing.
Most of us are familiar with forms of evangelical expression growing out of this custom, and will easily recognize its meaning. One of the choicest of all our hymns has a verse embodying it thus:—
"My faith would lay her hand on that dear head of thine,
While like a penitent I stand, and there confess my sin."
Faith vividly, vigorously conceives of Jesus Christ as the Lamb of God. This victim seems to be at the moment standing before us; he is the authorized victim set apart just for this end: God himself "hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin: that we might be made the righteousness of God in him." When our act of identification is complete by which we lay over our guilt upon him, then whatever is done to him is officially done to us; he is our substitute.
Now comes the next step in the process. Verse 5. The priest immediately slew the bullock before the Lord. He positively put the creature to death. All the lookers-on would understand that this was necessary, the moment the animal became the substitute for the sinner. This was the punishment for transgressions of the divine law. Hence, under the literal formula of covenant redemption, Jesus of Nazareth had to die upon the cross. It was not enough for him just to seem to die. If human sins were imputed to him, then he inevitably would be killed as a victim of sacrifice. So the New Testament writers agree in pronouncing this the very central truth of the whole gospel. 1 Cor. 15:3. When he died for us, then we died.
It does not seem very wise to attempt to follow with any further strictness of analysis this scene of sacrifice. The pieces of the bullock were now laid upon the altar, and with fire burned absolutely to ashes. The man who brought the offering remained standing by; he saw the entire transaction. How clearly he understood its reach we cannot say. . . . But some sort of suggestion must surely have been in his mind concerning the terrible punishment sin deserved. There was a meaning to those people found in the psalm David gave them so long afterwards: "But the wicked shall perish, and the enemies of the Lord shall be as the fat of lambs; they shall consume; into smoke shall they consume away." The lesson is all the more significant just because it is so full of unexplained mystery. We never can know every particular of the suffering we have escaped by the death of our Lord Jesus in our behalf; thank God! we never need to inquire.
The main thing, then, is the hand on the head. We admit our sin, our exposure, and our need. We bring our hearts to Christ in acceptance of his sacrifice. We seem to put out our faith as we instinctively gesture with our hand. Then the Saviour becomes the accepted substitute, and the sinner goes eternally free.—Charles S. Robinson, D. D., in S. S. Times.
God's Law a Delight.
By A. W. C.
"THY law do I love." Ps. 119:113. How many professed Christians, down deep in the heart, can say as much? David seemed to take great delight in talking and thinking about God's holy law. It was his delight, his meditation day and night. He was loyal to God and his government, and, therefore, knew that the law with its momentous sanctions were so many pledges of his eternal good. An alien would feel very differently; feel that the law was not good to him; so an alien and a loyal citizen, in contemplating our arsenals and navies, the defense of freedom, would have very different feelings. The former says, "I do not like the looks of those large guns; I tremble at the thought of them." "No man has a good opinion of the law when he feels the halter draw." The loyal citizen, with different feelings, would say, "Oh how I love those grand old monuments. They are so many pledges of my country, that all my rights are secure." He would feel secure in proportion to the strength of his government. So the psalmist felt, and so may all God's children feel now, in contemplating his law. Though its penalty may seem exceeding severe, it only expresses the determination of God to maintain his government and secure the highest good of all his obedient subjects. "The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul." "Thy commandments are exceeding broad." "His truth (law) is my shield and buckler." Surely, the psalmist did not think that the law of the Lord was liable to pass away.—A. W. C., in Sabbath Recorder.
Victory Over Insults and Sorrows
He who gains the victory over great insults is often overpowered by the smallest; so it is with our sorrows.
The Submission of Great Souls
Great souls are always loyally submissive to what is over them; only mean souls are otherwise.
Human Sympathies.
By Rev. Geo. E. Horr, Jr.
WHEN we speak of “saints” we are apt to think of those who were never touched by the little circumstances that make up so much of our lives. But we think of them so because we know so little about them. How they were offended and touched by a harsh word or a causeless rebuke; what a joy the companionship of their friends gave them; how they were down-hearted when fatigued or unwell, and how, when refreshed and in good spirits, the aspect of everything changed for them, their biographers do not notice. Of course it would be too much to expect any biographer to give an account of all these little details. But it is the mixture of discouragements and brightnesses that really makes up the greater part of life, and knowledge of them and their causes that brings us to the truest knowledge of the men themselves. We are fortunate in having in the New Testament many hints that show us that Christ himself had to a remarkable degree the sympathies of human nature, and that he was encouraged or cast down by the same circumstances that act upon us. We know that he loved birds, and flowers, and children; that he loved to sit with his disciples talking over the events of the day—or with them in the consciousness of companionship without conversation—upon the hills about Jerusalem. We know that he loved the lonely grandeur of the mountains, and that he chose such surroundings as best for prayer and meditation. We know that it was an added burden to the weight of agony in Gethsemane that his disciples could not watch with him one hour. And what a human touch it is, when Luke tells us that he could steal upon his disciples as they were walking to Damascus, play the stranger, and hesitate at the door to draw out a more cordial welcome! These little touches, and many more, show the sympathetic mind of Christ, responsive to outward impressions—to the aspect of nature—to the love of his friends, and to the needs and feelings of those whom he met.
We are fortunate, too, in having so many hints that show us what Paul’s feelings underlaid. He was a man responsive to impressions from his surroundings (as some are not), in whose sermons there is scarce an allusion to the beauty of earth or sky; there is not a single appreciative reference to the works of Greek art, or the cities with which he must have been very familiar in Athens and Ephesus and Rome. But he was especially responsive to human sympathy and dependent upon it. In the second chapter of Second Corinthians and the thirteenth verse, we find Paul saying that though he had preached in Troas and had some measure of success there, as implied by the phrase “a door was opened unto me in the Lord,”
“I had no relief for my spirit because I found not Titus my brother.” Also in the seventh chapter and fifth verse of the same letter he says, speaking of his work in Macedonia, “our flesh had no relief, but we were afflicted on every side; without were fightings, within were fears. Nevertheless, God, that comforteth the lowly, comforted us by the coming of Titus.”
It had been a great sorrow to him in his joy to be deprived of the companionship of his dear friend. It was a great comfort to him when discouraged to have Titus with him. There is, too, an undertone of deep sorrow vibrating in the words he writes in his last letter to Timothy: “Demas forsook me, having loved this present world.” And in the twenty-eighth chapter of the Acts, and the fifteenth verse, there is another striking evidence of this great apostle’s dependence upon human sympathy. He was journeying to Rome, despondent, dispirited, after the unusual perils of shipwreck he had undergone, and doubtful what the result of his appeal to the Emperor would be. But we find him becoming suddenly encouraged, full of hope and thankfulness, because some thoughtful Christian brethren had come down from Rome forty miles, to the Market of Appius, to meet him and give him a warm Christian welcome, whom, when Paul saw, he thanked God and took courage.
A good many people, good Christians, too, wonder if they are not wrong in being as dependent as they are upon outward circumstances—upon the aspect of nature, upon their own health, upon their friends—for their enjoyment of life, and for the brightness with which they look into the future. They feel as if they ought to rise above these influences and be independent of them. Undoubtedly we make too much of the world, we are too dependent upon secular circumstances for our religious enjoyment. We ought to have more of the spirit of Paul who “rejoiced in bonds,” was “more than conqueror” in a prison. But when we remember that this man who could say so proudly, “I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therein to be content . . . I have learned the secret both to be filled and to be hungry, to abound and to be in want,” also had this singular dependence upon human sympathy and friendship, the believer may well appropriate a lesson from him, and neither be surprised nor doubt his own Christian life if at times he shall crave human sympathy, and cry with Paul, “Demas forsook me, having loved this present world,” or even give utterance to the reproach of the Master himself, “Could ye not watch with me one hour?”—Rev. Geo. E. Horr, Jr., in Christian at Work.
A Word on Preaching.
SOMEONE, we believe it was the late Dr. Bacon, of New Haven, once remarked that a young minister will do more harm than good during the first five years of his ministry. However this may be, it is quite sure that he will learn many things during the first five years, the knowledge of which at the outset would have saved him from not a few more or less unhappy mistakes of judgment. Among other things, the sooner young preachers find out that what the people most need from the pulpit, and what as a rule they prefer, is the good news of salvation presented with essentially the simplicity of the Scripture narrative, the better it will be for them and their usefulness. As a rule, speculations and guesses are out of place in the pulpit. "Gentlemen," said Dr. John Hall to the theological students at Yale, "we are not heathen philosophers finding out things; we are expositors of a revelation that settles things." To speak with authority, yet simply, the magnificent and ever-inspiring truths that Jesus has committed to our testimony, is the substance of the preacher's work. With authority, and yet simply, as did Jesus, whether beside Gennesaret or within the precincts of the temple; almost as if speaking to children; with whatever scholarly grace and refinement and intelligence, and whatever wealth of illustration drawn from the stores of history, art, science, experience, yet simply. A young preacher once asked Dr. Dwight, "What is the best method of treating very difficult and abstruse points in mental philosophy?" "I cannot give you any information upon the subject," replied the Doctor; "I am not familiar with such topics; I leave them for young men."
—Morning Star.
Yoke of Bondage.
By William M. Healey
BY ELD. W. M. HEALEY.
It is quite generally conceded that one day in each week, set apart as a day of rest, is beneficial to humanity. But if the seventh day is mentioned as the day set apart for such rest, many persons say: “No, not that day; it is not convenient for us to keep it; it conflicts with business and our associations generally; it belongs to the old dispensation, but was taken away, nailed to the cross, because it is a yoke of bondage; but the first day we can keep without so much trouble.”
We ask why it is more difficult to keep the seventh than the first day. Every one knows that custom makes the one more convenient than the other, and if everybody kept the seventh day, it would be less trouble to keep it than any other. Let us go back to the cross, and see what day was observed at that time. It was the seventh day. Then suppose a sect arose at that time, and taught the observance of a day which differed from the general custom; which would be held as a yoke to observe? Of course it would be the new day. How then could the seventh day have been a “bondage,” and another day of “liberty,” at the cross? Dear reader, are you not in bondage to custom and to sin, in observing a day for which there is no authority in the sacred word, instead of that which the Lord says we must obey and call “holy,” “honorable,” “a delight,” not doing our own pleasure? Isa. 58:13.
Do you keep Sunday, instead of the seventh day, to please self, or to please God?
Deaf to an Alarm.
By Christian Observer
Not many years ago, a student in Princeton Seminary desiring to rise early in the morning, bought an alarm clock. For a few days it worked well. But one morning, after being aroused by its alarm, he turned over and went to sleep again. On subsequent mornings the clock failed to awake him. He placed it under the head of his bed in close proximity to his ear. There it awoke him till the next time he disobeyed its summons; ever afterward it was a failure. He slept through its call with perfect regularity. Yet, on the other hand, many a mother wakes on the faintest voice of her child, and many a watcher on the slightest movement of the patient. They have trained themselves to heed such calls. In like manner the conscience may be deadened or trained. Let the Christian disregard its voice, and soon it will become unable to arouse him at all. Let him carefully heed its remonstrance, and it will become to him a most valuable mentor. Take good care of your conscience; it is a most delicate apparatus.—Christian Observer.
William Miller.
"WILLIAM MILLER, the well-known but greatly-defamed lecturer on the prophecies, was (till they excluded him for his faith) a member of the Regular Baptist Church. Mr. David N. Lord, in a critical notice of his Memoirs, pronounces him ‘a man of vigorous sense, ardent, resolute and upright,’ who ‘had the fullest faith in the Scriptures as the word of God, and gave the most decided evidence that he understood and felt the power of their great truths,’ while ‘his teachings, evangelical, practical, impressive, were made the means, there is reason to believe, through the blessing of God, of leading many to the saving knowledge of the Redeemer.’”—Theological and Literary Journal, Vol. 6, p. 170.
Every Little Helps
"Every Little Helps."—This old adage is not only true in financial affairs, but likewise in religious matters. Many would be glad to do gospel work if they could only make a great move, but because of inability to do something that will astound men on every side, they fold their arms and do nothing. If a thousand such men should go to work in earnest, and do the little that they are capable of doing, and give God the glory, it would do as much good as though one man, possessing a thousand times the ability of any one of them, should do it all; and there would be far less danger of having the glory given to man, than when one man accomplishes so much, and gets lionized by men till weak human nature is so inflated, that the man himself is endangered, if not ruined, as the result. Give God the glory. Let every one act an earnest part in the great work, though it may be seemingly a trifling part, by exhortation, by inviting people to the meeting, by showing an interest in every possible way.
RISE! AWAKE TO-DAY.
Rise! for the day is passing,
And you lie dreaming on—
And others have buckled their armor,
And forth to the fight have gone.
A place in the ranks awaits you,
Each man has some part to play;
The past and the future are nothing,
In the face of the stern to-day.
Rise from your dreams of the future,
Of gaining some hard-fought field,
Of storming some airy fortress,
Or bidding some giant yield.
Your future has deeds of glory,
Of honor (God grant it may!)
But your arm will never be stronger,
Or the need so great as to-day!
Rise! If the past detains you,
Her sunshine and storms forget;
No chains so unworthy to hold you
As those of a vain regret.
Sad or bright, she is lifeless forever;
Cast her phantom arms away,
Nor look back, save to learn the lesson
Of a nobler strife to-day.
Rise! for the day is passing.
The low sound that you scarcely hear,
Is the enemy marching to battle;
Arise! for the foe is near.
Stay not to sharpen your weapons,
Or the hour will strike at last,
When, from dreams of a coming battle,
You may wake to find it past!