Review and Herald, Vol. 22, No. 14.
The Tent Meeting in Memphis, MichPage 1
The Tent Meeting in Memphis, Mich.
By R. J. Lawrence
BRO. WHITE : Thinking that the readers of the Review would be glad to hear something from me concerning the interest attending tent-labor this season, I avail myself of this opportunity to write. We came to this place June 22. We made our business known, and inquired for a place to set the tent; but we did not get one, and get the tent erected on it, until Friday, the 26th. We, however, commenced meetings in the Baptist meeting-house Wednesday evening, the 24th. There were about eighty present the first evening, and the second nearly two hundred. The people began to be interested, and our congregation increased to about seven hundred. The interest increased with the congregation. The people began to say, "These men know their own business, and know how to keep it to themselves." As we advanced on the chains of prophecy, showing our whereabouts in the world's history, by the prophetic periods, the two-horned beast, modern Spiritualism, the signs of the times, &c., the people listened with an eagerness and seeming relish that would characterize a hungry man when sitting down to a well-furnished table; for they began to say, "We never saw it so before, how plain it is! Why have we not seen these things before? We have read them over and over, but could not understand them. But now, O how plain! We have learned more about the Bible since these men came here, than we ever knew before." The time had now come to bring out those truths that would test their faithfulness to the word of God, such as the mortality of man, no future life without a resurrection. Some reported that we preached that man had no soul. Others resorted to those familiar texts commonly advanced, such as the rich man and Lazarus, the thief on the cross, Paul's desire to depart and be with Christ, the souls under the altar, &c., notwithstanding the numerous positive texts to the contrary, such as, the dead know not anything; man dieth, his breath goeth forth; in that very day his thoughts perish; the Saviour's declaration that we shall be rewarded at the resurrection of the just; Paul's crown at the last day; Peter's inheritance, to be received at the last time, &c. But a few weighed the testimony, saw a beauty in it, and endorsed it. Then came the law of God, in harmony with the gospel, and the perpetuity of the seventh-day Sabbath as God's mighty cleaver, to bring out a people that should be holy, without spot or wrinkle, prepared for translation at the coming of Christ. Then resort was had to the arguments (if arguments they may be called) that the world is round, and the same time cannot be kept as a Sabbath, time has been lost, and you cannot tell what day is the Sabbath; the Sabbath has been abolished, and there is no holy time in this dispensation, sustained by Paul's meats and drinks and sabbath-days, &c. O, how hard it is for some persons to yield to plain truth, especially when it crosses their former views. What an inclination there is to fix up for themselves a seemingly better way. The Pharisees and Sadducees are not alone in offering to God the doctrines and commandments of men for religious worship. Neither are Papists alone in thinking to change times and laws. But Protestant ministers and people are in sympathy with those changes, and do not seem to realize the force of that declaration of the Saviour's, "In vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men;" a conclusive proof that such worship is not acceptable to God. But to return. The interest in our meetings continued to increase. Men who labored hard in the hay and harvest-field, have told us that they were so tired when it came night, that it seemed to be their duty to stay at home; but they wanted to hear what was said on the different subjects presented at the tent, therefore could not bear the thought of staying away. And they have attended regularly from evening to evening, coming from one to six miles around. We established prayer and social meetings at the tent evenings at half-past 6 o'clock, which were quite well attended. Some began to talk out their convictions of truth and duty. We gradually brought out the strait testimony before them, which made the way look so narrow that some began to say, "It is too straight for us, we cannot walk in it." But selfishness and pride began to give away, and the deep emotion manifested by many gave evidence that the Spirit of God was performing its work in their hearts. Baptists, Methodists, Congregationalists, and non-professors, are bowing to its peaceful scepter. Last Sabbath, Aug. 1, there were about three hundred present, forty-five testimonies were given; and at the close an expression was taken to know how many had decided to keep the Sabbath, when one hundred and nine arose to their feet and stood long enough to be counted. The Lord is doing a great work here through his servants. Many are being brought to see the light of truth as revealed in his word. Great interest is manifested to obtain books and tracts, treating upon the various subjects of Bible truth. This gives us courage, and we feel to labor on in the cause, striving to do our duty, that we may become free from the blood of souls, and stand acquitted at the appearing of our Lord. Yours in hope of life. R. J. LAWRENCE. Talk It to Me, Father.
By George Wright, Jr.
"THERE is no one of us but can find something of interest to write. The little things of human experience are the warp and woof of the most interesting books ever written, the Bible not excepted." The above from the pen of another, I heartily endorse. And the Poet has written truthfully, "Little deeds of kindness, little words of love,
Make this earth an Eden like the heaven above." I think I was never more forcibly reminded of my duty to my children than by a little incident small in itself, yet one which I trust has taught me a life long lesson. A few months ago I was reading 1 Samuel iii, to my little daughters. After reading, one of them said, with her countenance lighted up with interest, "Now talk it to me, father." This fully opened the way to explain how the Lord called to young Samuel in the night, and gave him that fearful message for Eli the fallen priest, because he restrained not his wicked sons. The chapter seems full of instruction and warning, both to parents and children. One of the most lovely sights in this age of disobedience is a well regulated household, where each one strives to contribute to the happiness of the others, united in serving the Lord. Then his ministering Spirits gather around and fill the place with light. On the other hand where there is disobedience, darkness reigns, evil angels triumph, and such a state of things must result at last in one common ruin. A beloved Bro. in the ministry, once questioned my children on some of the plainest Bible subjects, and they were scarcely able to answer anything correctly. Our feelings as parents can be better imagined than described. As professed followers of Jesus it was a shame to neglect so plain a duty and what added keenness to it, this brother had some of these facts, with others of a similar nature where he traveled, published, generously withholding names. When we read it, little Helen who now sleeps in Jesus, said, "Pa, that means me," and began to weep. This was all right. In our hearts we thank the Bro. for it all to-day. We have all tried to profit by it, and it was especially blessed to Helen who began to read and love God's blessed book, which she continued to do more and more, until she fell asleep. Sweet thought to have the blessed assurance, that they will be brought from the land of the enemy; to know that the Lord is soon coming to unlock the dark prison house of the dead, and bid106our loved ones come forth, and clothe them with immortality and eternal youth in the paradise of God! Amid the care and toil incident to this mortal life we are apt to forget our duty, or at least to excuse ourselves, and seem to need something to stir us up. The child-like request of my little daughter, "now talk it to me father," like the still small voice keeps ever and anew whispering to my memory of my duty. Let us turn to that never falling source of instruction and we find here a little and there a little all through the book of God, what the Lord requires of us. Speaking of his statutes and judgments it says thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house," at all times, and in all places, when we lie down and when we rise up. Now is a special reason. Now the Lord is turning the hearts of the fathers to the children and the hearts of the children to their fathers. Now God's ministers feel a special burden for the children of the remnant. Gather the children, saith the Lord by the prophet Joel, looking down in vision to to the closing scenes. Says the Saviour, He that gathereth not with me scattereth abroad. Suffer them to come unto me and forbid them not. O, then let us lead them to Christ by a good example. Pray fervently and earnestly for their conversion. Carry them to the Saviour in the arms of faith and love, cultivate cheerfulness in our home, enter into the joys and sorrows of our children. In this way we shall get a strong hold of their affections and thus lead them on to the Saviour. Talk of the goodly land, the bright inheritance just before us. Mention them one by one around the family altar. Are we not too general in our prayer for our households. I remember our departed child a few mornings before her death, after family prayer said to her mother, Pa didn't pray for me this morning. That low plaintive voice of rebuke—methinks I can hear it yet. If the above little incidents in my experience shall admonish or encourage any dear soul to greater diligence in the instruction of their children in the way of righteousness, I shall be richly paid for writing out these passing thoughts. "How can we see the children, Lord,
In love whom thou hast given,
Remain regardless of thy word,
Without a hope of heaven?" Lapeer, Mich., Aug. 16, 1863. "FATHER in heaven! gently bend
To hear the cry thy children send
Up to thy throne!
The language of each voiceless sigh,
The lifting of each tearful eye
To thee are known. O thou, upon whose kingly brow
Resteeth the crown of glory now,
Saviour divine!
The rugged road we fainting tread,
On its most cruel crags, is red
With blood of thine. O! aid us in this darkened hour,
Above us angry tempests lower;
Snares are beneath;
Bleeding and sick, with inward smart,
Oppressed with doubts and dreads, the heart
Could pray for death. To lift our load of guilt was laid
On thee a weight of woe, in dread
Gethsemane. O Saviour—man! our brother priest!
To whom shall mourners turn for rest,
If not to thee ? All blind and helpless would we come,
To seek in thee peace, comfort, home;—
Our only plea,
Thou didst the form of mortals wear—
Thou didst the griefs of mortals bear
On Calvary." The Almost Christian.
By Cuyler
THERE is a vast difference between longing to be better, and resolving in God's strength to become better. The gamester may go home after midnight from the scene of his insane excitements, cut to the heart with remorse. He may make the most piteous confessions to his heart-broken wife. But he does not burn up his pack of cards, or set his face like a flint against that door which is to him the gateway to the pit. The inebriate, waking out of his debauch, curses his bottle and curses himself. He envies his temperate and prosperous neighbor, and says in bitterness of spirit, "Would that I were a sober man again!" But this longing is not enough. This sighing after reform does not bring it. The gamester must stop gambling, or else he is not saved. The inebriate must stop drinking—must quit the company of drinkers, and must pledge himself before his Maker to touch not or taste not the sparkling poison. The almost reformed are not reformed. They are still on the Devil's side of the dividing line between right and wrong. It is well for them that they come back toward that line; but they must cross it, and have their feet planted firmly on the side of virtue, before they are safe. Precisely so is it with the impenitent soul. The almost Christian is not a Christian. He is not where Christ bids him be; he is not where he confesses himself that he ought to be. There is a clear, distinct line of difference between the believer in Christ and the unbeliever; between him that serveeth God, and him that serveeth him not. On one side the heart is alienated from God. The affections are now money-getting, or pleasure-seeking, or some sort of sin and selfishness—perhaps with a somewhat loosened grasp, but still on something lower than God. There is no faith in Jesus, or loathing of sin, or crucifixion of self. And to all those who are on the wrong side of that dividing line, the grieved Saviour says: "He that is not for me is against me; he that gathereth not with me scattereth abroad." Perhaps the reader of this article is one of the almost Christians. Many a time he has melted under a moving sermon, or trembled when the truth threw its broad glare into the very depths of his soul. He was troubled. He went home thoughtful, and wondered how others around him could seem so frivolous and trifling. He did not care to speak to any one; he sought retirement; he opened his Bible, and perhaps attempted to pray for forgiveness, and for help to lead a better life. But he did not repent and forsake his favorite sins. He did not flee to Jesus. He did not give his heart to the Saviour. He did not run as Christian ran from the City of Destruction, stopping his ears with his fingers, and crying out, "Life—life—eternal life!" The seriousness ended with the setting of the Sabbath sun. The week rose on him and found him just as worldly as ever, and the world just as clamorous as before. His business demanded all his thoughts, and would have them, and he let it have them. He gave way to his old tempters, his old thoughts, his old habits of carelessness, unbelief, and sin. He was almost persuaded to become a Christian; but if he were to die to-night he would meet the doom of a rejecter of Christ. Every community is full of almost Christians. They know their duty. They intend at some day to do their duty. They often reproach themselves bitterly for their neglect; but there they are. Some of them are fathers, and confess that they are not setting the right example to their children. Some of them are mothers, and have often heard how beautiful and blessed it is for a mother to call her little ones around her and teach them the way to Jesus. But alas! they have not gone to Jesus for themselves. And so they linger. Conscience says, Go to Jesus; go now; give him thy heart. But the world-love within says, "Not yet, not yet; it will not do to incur the ridicule of being 'pious;' live close enough to the world to enjoy it, and yet close enough to the church to step in when you hear the footsteps of approaching death." Conscience says, "Now is the accepted time." Sloth says, "Time enough yet; you can flee to Christ any day you choose." And so the soul floats along through the daily mercies of God, floats through Sabbaths innumerable, floats past the light-houses which God has kindled to guide sinners to heaven—floats on, almost, but not entirely, persuaded to become a Christian. The Devil makes no objections to this. It is precisely what he wants. The world makes no objections. It is not likely to give itself any uneasiness if every one of its devotees went down to perdition. Good friend! there is no promise to you in the Bible while you remain only an almost Christian. God offers everything to the true believer and the follower of Christ; but not one iota for this world or the next to the mere intender to become a Christian. Nor will it mitigate your condemnation in eternity in the slightest degree that you were once almost within the kingdom of heaven. It will increase your remorse, and the intensity of your self-torment. Oh, that almost! To be realizing that you were almost within the gates of glory—almost among the happy bands of the white-robed and the rejoicing ones—almost before the throne of God and the Lamb—almost saved—oh! will not that word "almost" bite you like a serpent and sting you like an adder? Friend, heaven was not reared for the almost Christian. If you never become more than that, be assured that you can never reach it. And if you miss heaven, where, in the name of a dying Saviour, where will you go?—Cuyler. I don't like Professions.
By Nevins
THIS is the reason which many give for not acknowledging Christ. They say, when urged upon the point, that they "don't like professions." A strange reason this for not obeying the express command of the Divine Saviour! What if they do not like professions, do they equally dislike obeying commands? If so, they had better say, "I don't like obedience to the commands of God." But they profess to be well disposed to obey: it is only to professing that they object. Well, then, let them obey all the precepts which they find in the Bible, and we will not trouble them about a profession. Why should we? In that case they will obey the precept which enjoins a profession; they will do the thing appointed in remembrance of Christ. But "I don't like professions." And who does like mere professions? Who ever contended in favor of a man's professing to have what he has not? Professions are very different from mere professions. Suppose a person has what he professes to have, what then? What is the objection to a profession in that case? I see none. If a man loves the Lord Jesus, I can see no harm in his professing or declaring his attachment to him. It is very natural to declare it. We profess attachment to others—to relatives, friends, benefactors, pastors, civil rulers. Why not to Christ? How does his being the subject of the profession constitute such an objection to it? Is he the only being to whom we may not profess attachment? "Don't like professions?" Why yes, they do. Professions of friendship, of patriotism, and of loyalty they like. Why not of religion? Why should not religion be professed as well as other things? Are attachment to the Gospel, love to Christ, regard for the authority of Jehovah, and adherence to his government, the only things never to be professed? I do not see any objection to professions, but I see propriety and utility in them, even if it were optional with us to make them or not. If it were left to our choice, it strikes me, we ought to choose to profess love and obedience to Christ. But suppose it is required, does not that alter the case? Will these persons say they do not like what God requires? And does he not require a profession? His inspired apostle twice exhorts Christians to hold fast their profession. Does not that imply that it is made, and ought to be made? How is a person to hold on to that of which he has never taken hold? Is not the public confession of Christ required when it is made a condition of salvation? Rom. x, 9. "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." Does not divine authority require it, when to the doing of it is made one of the most precious promises in the whole Bible? "Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven." Is not that duty, against the omission of which, such a threatening lies as this, "But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven?" Matt. x, 32, 33. It is very plain that God requires professions, though some men do not like them. "You don't like professions!" Then Joshua, a man that followed the Lord fully, falls under your censure, for he professed the service of God. "As for me and my house," said he, "we will serve the Lord." Are we to think the worse of him for this? Some ask what is the use of a profession. If they will observe what followed Joshua's profession, they will see the use of it. They will see that it brought out all Israel. "We will also serve the Lord," said they, and they entered that day into a covenant to serve him. Nor did their practice belie their profession, for it is recorded that "Israel served the Lord all the days of Joshua, and all the days of the Elders that outlived Joshua." So much for a profession. It is agreed on all hands that107that professing generation, in piety and devotion to God, surpassed any other during the national existence of Israel. We read in 1 Tim. ii, 10, of certain things which are said to become women "professing godliness." It would seem from this to be the duty of women to profess godliness. And if of women, of men also, I suppose. What case of real subjection to the Gospel of Christ do we read of, which was not also a case of "professed subjection" to it? Paul, in 2 Cor. ix, 13, speaks of some who glorified God for the "professed subjection" of others unto the Gospel of Christ. It appears then that God is glorified by these professions. And I should presume, from certain passages in the Bible, that he is not glorified when a profession is withheld. There were in primitive times some who did not like professions. It is no new thing not to like professions. In John, xii, 42-43, we read that "among the chief rulers many believed on him, but" as they did not like professions, "because of the Pharisees they did not confess him—for they loved the praise of men more than the praise of God." It is no honorable mention which is intended to be made of another, of whom it is said that he was "a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews." John, xix, 38. Fear made him decline a profession for a time, but at length he came out openly on the side of Christ, and besought Pilate for the body of Jesus. If they who say they do not like professions, mean that they do not like false, or loud, or ostentatious, or barely verbal professions, let them say so, and we will agree with them; but let them not mean this, and say, without qualification, they "don't like professions." It is truly strange, because some now, as in apostolic times, "profess that they know God, but in works deny him," that others will never profess to know him. Because men have professed friendship, and have proved no friends, therefore they will not only not profess friendship, but they will abstain from certain acts and expressions of friendship, because they involve a profession of it! It is a pity that men who are going to give an account of themselves to God, should reason and act thus. Well, they must do as they please; but of one thing I am sure. The hour is coming, when, however they may now dislike professions, they will like them. They may not now like to confess Christ before men, but they will then like to have Christ confess them before his Father. They may not like to call him now the beloved of their souls, but they will like to have him call them, on that day, the blessed of his Father. Impressions of Gettysburg.
[The following description of a battle-field is taken from the correspondence of the "American Messenger," and presents to the reader a picture of some of the terrible scenes incident to war. G. W. A.] After spending some days in Gettysburg and the hospitals around it, during the week following the great battle which occurred the first three days of July, I wish to put upon record some thoughts which were deeply impressed upon me there. The awfulness of war, in its attendants and results, is beyond description. The most vivid imagination in its picturings comes short of the reality, and words seem feeble to convey any adequate conception of the facts. Here lies before you a field of battle, six or seven miles in length and from two to three in breadth, over which 140,000 men had for three days been engaged in deadly conflict, surging backward and forward as victory perched upon this or that banner. The ground is furrowed with ploughing balls, and strewed with tons of metal thrown from hundreds of cannons; the trees are denuded of their limbs, and their trunks starred all over with bullet marks; the surface of the battle-field is covered with slain horses, in many places more thickly strewn than are shocks of wheat in the newly reaped harvest-field; graves of men isolated or in groups meet the eye every few rods for miles upon miles; while here and there lie, now a week after the battle, some bodies unburied and fast decaying. Broken gun-carriages, muskets by the thousand, blankets, haversacks, caps—every thing belonging to an army, are strewed over the whole area traversed by the contending hosts. And this is but the outside view. Go into the hospitals. They are the most populous places about the city. The theological seminary, the college, the courthouse, the churches, the public halls in the city, the large farm-houses and capacious barns surrounding Gettysburg, are full of wounded and dying men; and the groves in the rear of the Federal battle-field are filled with men lying upon the ground without even the shelter of a tent. Ten thousand wounded men are yet here, it is said, groaning under the agony of ghastly wounds, and some of them deadly wounds, away from friends and home comforts; many of them will die for want of the medical and nursing care which a good home would afford. The surgeons' operating-tables are in full view, and human limbs are lying about them, so that you can scarce pass near without stepping upon them. J. M. S. The Spirits in Prison.
By Uriah Smith
Bro. Smith: Will you please answer through the Review the following question on 1 Peter iii, 19? At what time did Christ preach to the spirits in prison? Yours in search of truth. Wm. J. Wilson. Answer. Our views of the passage referred to are given in "Which mortal or immortal," pp. 70, 71. As you may not have the work at hand, I transcribe the paragraph touching this point. 1 Pet. iii, 18, 19: "For Christ also hath once suffered, &c., being put to death in the flesh but quickened by the Spirit, by which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison." A paraphrase of this passage will, we think, make all plain. Thus, being put to death in the flesh but quickened in the Spirit, by which Spirit, also, he went [not when he died, but] when once the long-suffering of God waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was preparing, &c., and preached to the spirits, or persons, in prison. Dr. Clarke remarks on this passage, "He went and preached by the ministry of Noah, one hundred and twenty years." Thus he places Christ's going and preaching by his Spirit, in the days of Noah where it evidently belongs, and not during the time that his body lay in the grave. Again he says, "The word πνεύμασι, spirits, is supposed to render this view of the subject improbable, because this must mean disembodied spirits; but this certainly does not follow, for the spirits of just men made perfect, Heb. xii, 23, certainly means righteous men, and men still in the church militant; and the Father of spirits, Heb. xii, 9, means men still in the body; and the God of the spirits of all flesh, Num. xvi, 22, and xxvii, 16, means men, not in a disembodied state." But, it may be asked, does it not speak of the spirits' being in prison? and does not that expression denote a state of death, and show that men are conscious, and can be preached to, in death? Answer. We have seen that the preaching took place in the days of Noah, to men in this present state; and if the spirits, or persons, were in prison while they were hearing the preaching, that expression must mean their detention under the arrest of divine justice, their days being limited to a hundred and twenty years. Thus detained, and their doom appointed, they might be represented as being in prison, the judgments of God waiting either for their repentance, or for the expiration of the time allotted to them, that they might suffer the threatened doom. But if the preaching to them did not take place while they were in prison, and this expression denotes the state of death into which they have since fallen, and now are, then the passage furnishes no sort of proof for the conscious state; for it simply affirms that Christ, by his Spirit, went in the days of Noah and preached to those who are now in prison, or in a state of death." Dr. Adam Clarke was preaching to a large congregation in Ireland, and after dwelling in glowing terms upon the freeness of the Gospel, and telling them that the water of life could be had "without money and without price," at the conclusion of the sermon a person announced that a collection would be made to support the Gospel in foreign parts. This anouncement disconcerted the worthy doctor, who afterwards related the circumstance to the lady of the house where he was staying. "Very true, doctor," replied the hostess, "the water of life is free, without money and without price, but they must pay for pitchers to carry it in." The conclusion of the anecdote was followed by cheerful smiles and a clapping of hands, and the children showed that they understood its import by the readiness with which they contributed to the collection.—Sel. “Illustrating,” without “Enlightening.”
It is well known that Rev. Thomas Scott, the celebrated commentator on the Bible, published an edition of Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, with expository notes. A copy of this work he benevolently presented to one of his poor parishioners. Meeting him soon after, Mr. Scott inquired whether he had read it. The reply was, “Yes, sir.” “Do you think you understand it?” “Oh, yes, sir,” was the answer; “and I hope before long that I shall be able to undersand the notes.” There is a moral in the above reply, which some of the writers of our day, and some of the occupants of the pulpit would do well to study.—Sel. It is said of a certain inferior Latin poet (Codrus), that he actually burst with envy. Whether this is a correct statement or not, I do not say; but it seems that other poets so far excelled Codrus that he was very unhappy, and according to ancient records, he was the victim of incurable envy. Now when I see an envious disposition, I often think of Codrus. And it is very sad indeed to see how Envy works herself along. People are very foolish in nourishing this disgusting passion. Why, look at it a moment. Suppose that in a society, or church, all the members were of second-class minds, and all were as ignorant and uninformed as myself, or yourself, for instance. How we should long for some capable, thorough-going men to be brought in, that they might take the helm. Would you exchange the object of your envy for some stupid dolt? Would you like to belong to a church where all were inferior to yourself, so that you might be a kind of Grand Lama among them? Would you be very proud of reigning over a thousand apes? or would you like to flourish as the chief of some clan, whose minds bowed with reverence at your speeches, and trembled at your anger, or smiled at your pleasure? Wouldn’t it be grand? Suppose that the object of your envy were to-morrow a lifeless corpse, and you were elevated to fill his place, wouldn’t you feel well, especially if you knew the Supreme Ruler had done it in partiality to you? Would you not have a high opinion of Him who rules events, if he should thus stoop to your desires? Would not this be a happy universe, if the Ruler were influenced by your counsels? Wouldn’t you take it kindly? Oh, godless Envy! thou hateful, foul bird! flee from every mind that courts the friendship of Wisdom, who dwells with Prudence. Away with thy blasting, withering, debasing presence. Oh, blind, insane Envy! begone from the house of God and the society of his people. The Coming Rest.
By Z. W. Kemp
“There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God.” Heb. iv, 9. How encouraging and soothing the thought that there is yet a rest reserved for the children of God. Yes, dear reader, God is always anticipating the interests of his people. He has gone to prepare a place for them, and soon he will come again and receive them unto himself. O then let us count all things here on earth as loss and dross, and give our whole hearts unreservedly to the Lord; let us lay hold on the precious promises that are now being offered, that we may be admitted into the kingdom of God, where the weary will be at rest. Let us ever bear in mind that Jesus died for us all. “He died for you, he died for me,
He died to set poor sinners free.” Then let us take the yoke of Christ upon us, and learn of Jesus, who is meek and lowly in heart. We must not be idlers in the vineyard of God. Let us do all we can for the cause of Christ, that we may not hold back from casting in our mite for Jesus. I once knew a little boy of some six or seven years who had such a desire for contributing for the Sabbath-school paper, that he would not eat any butter on his bread if his mother would give him a few pennies to put into the box the next Sabbath. I hope he is not the only little boy that has a desire to cast his mite into the Lord's treasury. I think if all do like this there will be a rest remaining for them. “Thine holy Sabbaths Lord we love,
But there's a nobler rest above;
To this our longing souls aspire,
With ardent hope and strong desire.”