Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 21, 1869
ON CONFESSION.
By George I. Butler
The Bible says much about confession. It makes very positive promises to those who will confess and forsake their sins. Thus we read in Prov. xxviii, 13, “He that covereth his sins shall not prosper; but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall find mercy.” And John says, “If we confess our sins he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John i, 9. In the old dispensation, confession was insisted on as a necessary preliminary to forgiveness. When a man made an offering to God for his sins, he must confess them over the head of the animal. The confession was always expected. On the day of atonement the high priest confessed all the sins of the people, over the head of the scape-goat.
The idea of confession is reasonable as well as scriptural; but it is very hard to the natural heart. It seems strange that a person should not be too proud to do wrong, and yet be too proud to confess it. Yet thousands are in that position. Not too proud to bring guilt upon themselves; to grieve the God of love; to bring ruin upon their souls; but too proud to take God's appointed way to remove them. Why should it be thought hard to confess our sins before our fellow-men, which have been committed before them? Nothing but wicked pride would hinder us from doing so—a desire on our part to appear better than we really are.
A confession may be defined as an acknowledgment of wrong committed on the part of the person committing it. The first step after we are made acquainted with our sin, should be to confess it. In most cases the endeavor is, to cover it up. A frank confession is demanded of us, first to God. His word requires it. The sin committed was mainly against him. Confession is the first outward act by which the individual shows to God, or man, that he is conscious of having done wrong. An unwillingness to make it, manifests a desire to receive pardon for something that we are not willing to admit we are guilty of.
Confession is the first step by which we manifest a sorrow for sin. When we pursue a course of conduct contrary to the will of God, our Creator, or wound his cause, and thus stand in the way of the salvation of others, or injure our fellow-men in any way, it is necessary before we can gain God's approbation, and be on the road to salvation ourselves, that we should realize it, and feel it. The first way we can manifest this is through confession to the party grieved by our course. This always includes God, as every sin is against him, and often includes our fellow-men. We may wrong them pecuniarily. Of course restitution must be made, and will be made, if we are truly penitent; and we shall desire to restore what we have gotten wrongfully, to the rightful owner. We shall not desire to have it in our hands, in the day of Judgment, to sink us to perdition, as it surely will, if we persist in keeping that which we know belongs to another.
We may wrong others by our evil example. Example is powerful. Its influence can scarcely be realized. The great mass of mankind live by the influence and example of others. This is the foundation of custom and fashion, which we all know is mighty. It is the duty of every person to live so that his influence will be salutary and right. When we become aware that ours has been injurious to others, the first step is confession. Reason and Scripture say so. It is due to those who have been injured, private persons, or the community. If we propose to cease to do wrong and commence to do right, if we realize the iniquity of our past course, is it not right, and a duty, that we should say so to those who know what that course has been? Most certainly, and the Scriptures make it obligatory, and make forgiveness contingent upon it.
Why should it be thought a hardship? It seems to strengthen us as we try to carry out our resolutions of amendment, and closes up the avenues of approach to the enemy. It should be esteemed a privilege to confess, and would be, but for wicked pride, and a cunning adversary, as it is God's appointed way by which to remove that wrong, the condition of pardon being to acknowledge and forsake. Both are necessary; and we have no right to say one is good for anything without the other. We should esteem it a privilege to confess, and then remove as far as we can the effect of our example upon those liable to be injured by it, and not pass along in silence while the inevitable conclusion of observers would be, that we approved of our wrong course in the past. Confession sets us right in our words, and reformation, in our actions, and both should always be in harmony. We shall be judged by our words and actions. The words precede,
the actions should follow to show them true. The same as in the commencement of a religious life; the profession comes first; the religious life should follow to show the profession genuine. Both are required.
When a man has sinned, how reasonable that he should go with an honest and sincere heart to the party against whom he has offended, to God and man, and, so far as words can do it, take it out of the way; then, by a changed life, manifest his sincerity therein. It is astonishing that this can be considered a hardship. A desire to have people think we are better than we are, hinders many of us from doing it.
If this were not so serious a subject it would be almost amusing to see the dodges and turns people take to excuse themselves from making a square statement of their own fault or sin. How many we hear in meeting or in church trials: “If I have done anything wrong, or injure the feelings of anybody, I am sorry for it, and I want you to forgive me.” That little word, if, becomes very important in the confession. It is very small, only composed of two letters, but it is large enough for self, pride, and a sin-polluted conscience, to dodge behind, and screen themselves. What is the use of such confessions? I have heard so many of them that I have become sick, even to nausea, at hearing them. After laboring long and hard to make people see their wrongs, the anxiety of all wrought up to the utmost for the good of the individual, it seems almost insulting to have the person get up and shield himself behind an if. It looks like trying to get credit for a confession where none was made. The if spoils it. It becomes no confession at all. That little word covers the very point desirable to be brought out in a confession, viz., whether there was any sin committed at all. If there were, how much more manly and sensible to say so, plainly. How much more respect would a person command in the eyes of all sensible people than to leave it in such a shape. If there were no sin committed, why insult the common sense of the hearer by pretending to make a confession, and really not doing it. Better keep still, than appear to confess with an if.
Another very troublesome habit often seen in attempted confessions, at the present time, is the endeavor to bring in all the mitigating circumstances and excuses that can be thought up that have the least relation to the subject, and many that have none; so that the statement intended for a confession really becomes a full justification, and therefore no confession at all. It is the effort of poor self, covered with sin and pollution, to make itself appear all right after all. Confession is an acknowledgment of wrong committed. Now if a long list of circumstances, brought in to justify, amounts to anything, it shows that no confession is needed, and if they do not amount to anything, they certainly are out of place. So, in either case, they should be left out.
Yes, it is worthy of being remembered that excuses, and the why we did so-and-so, are entirely out of place in a confession. They are only presented before our minds at the time by the devil, and seized on by us to keep poor self from the death it must die if we ever get into the kingdom of God. We need not fear about the extenuating circumstances, God has nowhere commanded us to talk about them. He will make all the allowance they deserve. But he has told us to confess98our faults one to another. Let us be sure to do that. There is no danger about the other.
Another common habit with those who have confessions to make, is to bring in just as many as possible to keep them company. It is generally the case where there is a trial or difficulty, that more than one is at fault, and when churches are cold and backslidden, many are to blame, and sometimes the wrong course of another may lead us to sin. But when we confess, we have nothing to do with the sin others have committed. That don't help us any, nor answer for the one we have committed. Our confession is but to acknowledge our fault, and crave forgiveness for the same, and leave it for others to do the same with theirs. I consider it decidedly out of place to refer in our confessions to the others who have sinned, especially if they have sinned against ourselves. That course will never heal difficulties or trials between ourselves and others—to refer to them and say, if they had not done so-and-so, I should not have done so-and-so. We have nothing to do in confessing their sin for them. Their sin was a hundred times more against God than against us, and it will in nowise clear us. We are, however, especially interested in having our sins confessed before the Judgment shall sit upon our cases. That must be done, or we are lost. Whenever a person will follow this course in a complicated church difficulty, it will straighten one of the tangled threads, and have a great moral influence in helping others to straighten theirs. This desire to bring in others into our confessions, all arises from the tenacity of life there is in the old man of sin. Self hates to die, and if he can shoulder quite a portion of the guilt off upon others, he has to take so much less himself, and how he struggles to do it.
Another point that looks objectionable in confessions, is winding up with an exhortation. An exhortation is an excellent thing in its place. It is well to exhort our brethren and sisters to faithfulness and perseverance, to speak of the glorious reward, the joys of Heaven, the golden city, the society of angels, the plan of salvation, and many other interesting themes; but somehow they always seemed to me out of place in a confession of sin. The spirit of confession and exhortation hardly seem akin to one another. When we have wrongs to confess, calling for sincere contrition, and heart-felt penitence, and a broken spirit, a lively exhortation don't seem to harmonize well with it, and the time to call upon the brethren to arouse and be more earnest for God, hardly seems to be when we are standing in the attitude of a wrong-doer craving forgiveness for our sins. We are hardly standing then in the proper position to exhort or encourage others. Many poor souls don't realize it, of course; but it is only the effort of poor self to have the blame rest as lightly as possible upon it, and have the attention of the observer drawn away to a more pleasing subject, and thus prolong life as long as possible. Self hates to die. Self hates to be blamed. When shall we all realize it?
A confession of words, with no real sorrow for sin in it, of course is entirely useless, and even hateful in the sight of God. But a confession coming from a broken, contrite heart, direct, straight to the point, covering our own sins with no excuses, or self-justification in it, is a mighty means of grace to ourselves and to others. There is rejoicing in Heaven at the sound. Angels rejoice. It is certain to bring the tender Spirit of God in return. The strong man bends before it. Enemies are made friends by it. In short, it is not in the heart of man to stand before such a confession, and hold a grudge or feeling of animosity. Every sensible man can but respect that person who, when convinced of wrong, makes a humble confession of it. It is a work of honesty, and true manhood. None but fools think otherwise.
Every true confession will be followed up by an effort to reform. The heartier the confession, the more earnest the effort. “He that confesseth and forsaketh shall find mercy.”
Shall I be there in the ransomed throng?
Shall I strike the harp and chant the song?
Shall I help to echo the glad refrain,
“Glory, glory to Him who was slain?”
Shall I place my feet on that crystal sea?
Will those gates of pearl open wide for me?
Shall I, so poor, so unworthy, stand
With the blood-washed throng in the heavenly land?
Will this trembling heart, so stained by sin,
In that precious blood be washed and clean?
Will Jesus accept me for his own,
When his jewels stand before the throne?
Oh! shall I drink of the crystal fount?
Shall I stand on Zion’s hallowed mount?
Shall I eat of the golden-fruited tree,
Whose leaves shall for life and healing be?
Oh! shall I be safe in those jasper walls,
When the threatened storm of vengeance falls?
Shall I see the reward on the sinner bestowed,
But have a right in the City of God?
Oh! let me make Jesus my refuge here;
Soon, soon will his sign in the heavens appear!
Oh! then may I find my worthless name
Graved in the life-book of the Lamb!
R. C. BAKER.
THE WORLD ON FIRE.
While “the bow in the cloud in the day of rain” is the sure pledge of Jehovah’s covenant with Noah that “the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh,” the cry of “Fire” has rung along the ages from the days of Moses till the present time. God said by Israel’s lawgiver: “A fire is kindled in mine anger, and shall burn unto the lowest hell, and shall consume the earth with her increase, and set on fire the foundations of the mountains” (Deut. xxxii, 22), and Peter, fifteen centuries later, but echoed the strain when he said: “But the heavens and the earth which are now, by the same word [of God which brought the flood] are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men.” 2 Pet. iii, 7. The fire, of which the apostle here speaks, must be as literal as the water of the Noahic flood mentioned in the preceding verse. Consistency of interpretation requires that if we allegorize the “fire” of verse 7, we must do the same with the “water” of verse 6, and thus the flood becomes a fable, and the fire a phantom. But we have not so learned to set aside the plain, simple utterances of the Holy Spirit, whether made through the shepherd of Midian, or the fisherman of Galilee; and notwithstanding the world has been longer now without a visible manifestation of Deity than ever before, and the scoffer in his pride and prosperity may tauntingly inquire, “Where is the promise of his coming?” our faith grasps the announcements respecting the day that shall be “revealed by fire” (1 Cor. iii, 13; 2 Thess. i, 7, 8), and we confidently expect that “the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in the which the [atmospheric] heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth also, and the works that are therein shall be burned up.”
What a day that will be! A stately building wrapped in flames amid the silence and darkness of the night, with some of the inmates unable to escape, or a ship on fire at sea, with passengers left to choose between the fiery billows and a watery grave, must be terrific sights; but what is a burning building or vessel to a burning world? what the perishing of a few, to “the perdition of ungodly men” in the day of Judgment? Yet as sure as the Bible is the book of God, that day comes on apace when there will be seen “our God in grandeur, and our world on fire.”
Fellow Christian, say not that this subject is speculative and unworthy of serious consideration. That it is a fearful one to contemplate, we admit; and that there are things connected with it respecting which we now see as “through a glass darkly,” is undeniable; but the truth that there will be a dissolution of the heavens and earth by fire, is announced on the pages of inspiration in the simplest terms, and so thoroughly practical is it that the apostle inquires, “Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hastening unto the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat?” Oh, if we did but believe as we should in the fiery doom that awaits the world, what effect it would have on our thoughts, words, spirit, plans, and actions. How much less importance would we attach to earth’s glitter and glory! How its grandeur would fade before us, and its treasures sink into insignificance!
Reader, are you insured? As a man of business you attach importance to having your property insured against losses by fire. You seek the best company—the most reliable association, and take the necessary steps to obtain a policy. Why not act with equal wisdom in relation to the great future of eternity? God has given notice beforehand of what he intends to do. The land on which your house stands, or which constitutes your farm, is destined to the fiery flames; sooner or later it will share in the general dissolution. Whether you live to see that time or not, your interests will be affected by the day of doom. If you are among the wicked, you will be forever cut off from the earth; but if you are a child of God, you are insured against loss or damage, as Wesley expresses it, “Nothing has the just to lose
By worlds on worlds destroyed;
Far beneath his feet he views
With smiles the flaming void,—
Sees the universe renewed,
The grand millennial reign begun,
Shouts with all the sons of God
Around the eternal throne.”
Seek, then, an interest in Christ, and though your body may be burned—like the martyr’s at the stake, and this mighty globe tremble and fall amid the fires of the day of God, yet are you secure; beyond the weakness and corruption of death will be found the glory of the resurrection, beyond the sorrow and sighing of time, the joy and praise of eternity,—beyond the losses of this life for Christ’s sake, the infinite gain of the life to come,—beyond the fiery storm of the millennial morning, the calm and sunshine of Immanuel’s land, the renewed earth. Oh! impenitent reader, haste to the Saviour by faith and prayer, and “give glory to the Lord your God, before he cause darkness, and before your feet stumble upon the dark mountains, and while you look for light, he turn it into the shadow of death, and make it gross darkness.”—Advent Herald.
A BELIEVER’S ESTIMATE OF THE BIBLE:
“Thy word is power—thy word is life.”
I LOVE the Bible. As the storehouse of religious knowledge; as the instrument of ministerial usefulness; as the test of Christian experience; as the guide of social order, and guardian of civil freedom; as the only sure barrier against the desolating inroads of fanaticism, Socinianism, and atheism; as the friend of the people, irrespective of condition or class; and as the “world’s best hope,” I love the Bible. I love its testimonies, for their truthfulness and moral grandeur. I love its arguments, for their fairness and cogency. I love its invitations, for their condescension and freeness; I love its promises, for their appropriateness, vastness, and certainty. I love its prayers, as models of filial freedom and believing reverence. I love its songs, for their solemn gladness and their godly bearing. I love its precepts, for their equity and chasteness, their accordance with the principles of grace, their affinity with the promises, and their applicability to the vicissitudes of my heavenward pilgrimage. I love it for its Author and authority; for the evils it rebukes and removes; for the good it does and designs; for the goodness it reveals and requires; for the fellowship it creates, and the friendship it sanctifies and cements; for the happiness it diffuses, and the prospects it unfolds. I love it as a record, a memorial, a standard, a treasure, a companion, and a guide. As a law book, it is the cheapest and safest; as a prayer book it is full and infallible; as a hymn book, alike faultless are its theology, poetry, spirit, and style; and as a school book, it surpasses every other for fixing the attention, feeding thought, controlling the imagination, informing the judgment, training the conscience, educing the superior affections of the heart, and in every respect fitting for society. Therefore I love it in the study, the pulpit, and the pew; in the counting-house and the workshop; in the garden and the field; in the sitting-room and the bed-chamber; in the railway-carriage and the steamboat; in the morning and the evening; in sickness and in health. In every case and place, be it near me for reading or hearing, for counsel or comfort.
Because of its divine origin and originality, it is the best of books; and in religion is the sole authority, infallible and absolute. It needs not, and will not sanction a companion volume, as being equally with itself a test of truth, or rule of practice. To “the Bible, the Bible only,” every one who would learn “the good and the right way,” must apply his mind and yield his conscience. He must resort to it, not to obtain support to opinions previously adopted, but to receive meekly, unreservedly, and unhesitatingly, whatever is really taught therein. “For instruction, for conviction, for reformation (or restoration), and for education in righteousness,” the Scriptures “given by the inspiration of God” are “profitable” and sufficient. No tenet is true, no principles are sound, no motives are pure, no conduct is correct, no99hope is well founded, no precepts are binding, no ordinances, rites, or ceremonies, are becoming, and no worship is acceptable, except in harmony with this sacred volume. It alone is the standard of morals and prescriber of piety. It is not a book of science; yet every science is false that is contradictory to it. It is not a book of politics; yet all politics which are adverse to its principles are unjust and mischievous. It is a book for time, to guide through it; a book for earth, to lift above it; a book for society, to regenerate and elevate it. It is a book for man, in relation to man his brother—and for man the sinner, in relation to “God the Saviour.” It is “the book of Jehovah,” because it, and it only, teaches us of the one eternal Being, who of himself alone is immutably existent; who in himself alone is absolute perfection; who is the first cause of all things good, and the end of all things, both in the way of terminating what is to be concluded, and of consummating what is to be completed. It is “the word of Christ,” because “the testimony of Jesus,” the God-man Mediator, the appointed Redeemer of sinners and Lord of saints, is its alpha and omega—beginning and end. It is “the word of truth,” because its records are facts, its gifts are substantialities, its requirements are righteousness, and its predictions and promises are but anticipations of Providence, which, without exception, in due time and order, become verities. It is a book of purposes, not experiments; of realities, not fancies; and of positivities, not possibilities. It is “the book of the law,” because it admits of no appeal from its decision.
No other book is so wide in its range, so lofty in its aim, so benevolent in its spirit, so dignified in its character, and so happy in its influence. Its depth is the mystery of truth; its hight is the splendor of purity; its mission is the mercy of love; its course is the path of wisdom; its sphere is the world of fallen mankind, and its end is the glory of God. It is, therefore, and it only is, of universal utility. The philosopher, by the study of it, may extend his knowledge of the laws of matter and the properties of mind; the statesman may learn from it, precedents and principles applicable to national government; the poet may find in it, inspiring aids to his noblest conceptions; the painter may depict from it scenes of loftiest grandeur and holiest awe, and portraits of goodness and beauty affording the fullest scope to his artistic genius; while the ploughboy and “the maid behind the mill” may, by means of it, learn the most exalted lessons, and attain unto the divinest skill.
Whoever is humbly led by it, is safely led to Heaven. It confounds the conceited, baffles the speculative, rebukes the proud, frowns upon the formal, denounces the ungenerous, dooms the profligate and the impenitent, smiles upon the meek and self-denying, assures the fearingly contrite, and refreshes the way-worn follower of Christ with living water from the crystal fountain of eternal love. Like all the works of God, his word is diversified and harmonious, plain and profound, simple and sublime, suitable and serviceable. It contains the developments of the eternal will, the thunderings of righteous and reasonable wrath, the benefactions of unmerited favor, the rebukes of fatherly fidelity, the beauties of holiness, the glowings of love, the counsels of wisdom, and the index of futurity. By it, faith unto gratuitous salvation is authorized, penitence is evoked, prayer is instructed, hope is uplifted, love is attracted, obedience is guided, affliction is irradiated, zeal is animated, praise is inspired, and death is conquered. It is the dissector of the human heart, the charter of the Christian church, the speculator of the Deity, and the telescope of eternity. This is the book—the one book of my heart. “Oh, how I love thy law,” Father of lights and God of truth. “The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver.”
“Dear to my soul the ‘truth and grace’
Unfolded in this book;
Grant, Lord, the beamings of thy face,
When through its leaves I look.
“From Christ that I may not depart,
Nor yield to sin or sense,
Engrave thy word upon my heart,
By gracious influence.
“In every trouble let me find
Thy wise directions bless;
Let truth support and cheer my mind,
When sore afflictions press.”
—Shining Light.
Self-Interest and Duty
REMEMBER that self-interest is more likely to warp your judgment than all other circumstances combined; therefore look well to your duty when your interest is concerned
WHAT IS THE PROMISED LIFE?
By R. F. Cotterill
We answer, life, simply life, that which we all understand by the word in its primary signification; that which is the foundation of all enjoyment, and without which, there is no conscious happiness. This continued eternally, is eternal life. “And this is the promise that he hath promised us, even eternal life.” 1 John. ii, 25.
But our friends of the contrary faith tell us the soul is naturally immortal; that all men are sure of eternal life, in its first sense, that is, of eternal, conscious existence; and, therefore, the life that is promised to a class is not life in its first sense, but happiness. Say they, It is a happy existence, a glorious immortality. This they hold is the “eternal life” which is “the gift of God.”
We have no doubt but that life will be happy and glorious, though the Scriptures do not qualify life and immortality with these, or any like terms; but we are expressly told that there shall be no sorrow, pain, or curse, in the world to come. Then all that are there will be blessed, or happy.
But when is the gift of eternal life given? Not in this world, but in the world to come. “He shall receive an hundred fold now in this time, . . . and in the world to come eternal life.” Mark x, 30. The giving of “the crown of life” is consequent upon faithfulness “unto death,” Rev. ii, 10, therefore, it is not given during the present life. “When he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life.” James i, 12. The period of trial is the present life; hence, the crown pertains to the life to come.
It is evident to every Bible reader that the “crown of life,” the “crown of glory,” and the “crown of righteousness,” are identical—that these are three expressions to signify the same thing. The victors are crowned after the battle is fought and the victory won. When is the crown given? Not in the present life, as we have shown. Not at death, the end of this life. Not between death and the second coming of Christ—“the day of Christ,” “the day of the Lord”—the time when the dead shall be raised, when “the Lord himself shall descend from Heaven,” “the trump of God” shall sound, and “the dead in Christ shall rise.” In proof of this, we refer to the Scriptures. “When the chief Shepherd [Christ] shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory.” 1 Pet. v, 4. “Henceforth [from the time when the conflict is ended and the course is finished,] there is laid up for me [not given] a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day; and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing.” 2 Tim. iv, 6–8. The reference to the Lord, as “the righteous Judge,” shows that the Judgment sets, and these crowns are awarded by it. The Judgment decides who shall receive the crowns; then they are given. “That day” is “the day of the Lord,” the time of “his appearing.” The crown is given when the chief Shepherd appears. Immortality is given at the last trump, when the dead are raised. Then death is swallowed up in victory by Christ, at his coming, and the resurrection. See 1 Cor. xv, 51–54.
This is the one, harmonious, scriptural answer to the question, When is the promised life given? Hence, the promised life is a literal life—a living again from the dead. Life departs at death; it is given again at the resurrection. The resurrection life continued is eternal life. When the saints that “sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake,” they awake “to everlasting life.” Dan. xii, 2. The wicked awake, but not to live forever. “The wages of sin is death,” while “the gift of God is eternal life.” The wicked do really live again by a resurrection from the dead, else there would be no “second death.” When the righteous come forth from their graves, it is “to the resurrection of life”—they “awake to everlasting life.” But when the wicked come forth, it is “to the resurrection of damnation,”—they are damned, that is, condemned, to the second death.
To oppose to this view the text, “He that hath the Son hath life,” to prove that eternal life is given at conversion, is like the Romanist contending for “the real presence” in the sacrament, from the text, “This is my body.” The believer, in the present life, has eternal life in a sense similar to that in which he is said to have Christ. He has Christ by faith. “That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith;” and by his Spirit, the pledge of his future inheritance with Christ.* So he has eternal life by faith—faith in the sure promise of him that hath “promised us” “eternal life.”
In the light of the above scriptures, let us analyze the opposing view—that the promised life is not literal life (a life which they say all have, and will have eternally), but happiness. We have proved that the promised life is given at the resurrection. It is not given before. Therefore, if that life is a “spiritual life,” that is, happiness, the “deathless spirit” will have to wait for its happiness till the resurrection of the body. To wait, in conscious existence, without happiness, some hundreds or thousands of years before it is received, would seem as gloomy, to some minds, as it would be to wait in unconsciousness the same length of time, for literal life and consciousness to be restored. Again, our opposing friends make the soul, or spirit, independent of the body for its life and enjoyment; and yet it must wait for its life—spiritual enjoyment, happiness—till the decayed body is brought again from the dust. The Scriptures certainly do make the body of some importance, inasmuch as they always locate the man, whether dead or alive, in the place where his body is. R. F. COTTERILL.
LOOK UP.
By Mina Philo
WHAT a blessed thought, when burdened with sorrow and cares, that we have the privilege of looking up to our Father in Heaven for consolation, who "giveth liberally, and upbraideth not." And if led to doubt our acceptance with God, let us remember that the precious blood of our Saviour was shed for our salvation, and be willing to humble ourselves at the foot of the cross. Then, by confessing our sins and putting them away, we can by faith look up and be healed, even as the children of Israel looked up to the brazen serpent in the wilderness, and were healed of the bite.
Oh! why will so many cling to the vanities of this life, and look down to this world of sin for happiness? Had we not better, like Paul, take pleasure here in infirmities, reproaches, persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake, and look up to those mansions which Jesus is preparing for the faithful few? Look up to that blessed Saviour who will have compassion on us when earthly friends forsake? Look up to our God, who has promised to be our Father? What greater love can we ask than he has bestowed, to allow us, poor, erring mortals, to call the creator of the heavens and the earth "Our Father."
Yes, let us, though "friends may hate and foes may scorn," look away from this world that is groaning under its weight of sin, and look up, knowing that our redemption draweth nigh, notwithstanding we hear the scoffers declare that "old mother earth still continues on," while they are saying in their hearts, "Where is the promise of His coming," and, "My Lord delayeth." The tarrying time will soon close. Oh! bright and glorious hope to the ridiculed and faithful waiting ones, to whom he will appear the "second time without sin unto salvation."
Then let us search out our sins, and strive earnestly to overcome, and so live that the blood of souls may not be found on our garments. Then with confidence we can look up until we see him coming in the clouds of heaven, and be able to say, This is our God, and we will save us. Then when the so-called mighty ones of this earth are covered with shame, and are overwhelmed with the general destruction which is the reward of evil-doers, the poor despised pilgrim will be caught up to meet their Lord, and be clothed with the white robes of righteousness, and receive the approval of him who then shall reign King of kings, and be enabled to sing the song of deliverance. Oh! then, let us live for this until the day dawn, and we shall see our Lord in his beauty. MRS. MINA PHILO.
Montcalm Co., Mich.
THE FIRE PREPARED FOR SATAN AND HIS ANGELS.
This fire is referred to many times in the Bible. Rather, it is spoken of in connection with these wicked beings in quite a large number of passages.
There can be no reasonable doubt that the personage described in Eze. xxviii, called the anointed cherub, whose covering was the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, and who had walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire, and who was perfect in his ways from the day that he was created till iniquity was found in him, is none other than Satan. Yet it is said that the fire shall devour him and bring him to ashes upon the earth in the sight of all them that behold him.
Again, THE KING for whom Tophet is ordained of old, whose pile is fire and much wood, a fuel, which shall be kindled by the breath of the Lord as a stream of brimstone, this king must be Satan himself. Isa. xxxi, 33. And thus also in Isa. xxvi, 11, when it is said that the fire of God's enemies shall devour the wicked, it is evident that allusion is made to the fact that the wicked are to be punished in fire originally prepared for the devil and his angels.
Indeed, the nineteenth chapter of Revelation plainly teaches that the lake of fire, where the devil is to be punished, is also to be shared with him by all those whose names are not found written in the book of life.
And this great truth is also announced by our Lord in Matt. xxv, 41, where he says to those on the left hand, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels."
And now, may not this fact, that the wicked shall be punished in the fire that is to devour the evil angels, be referred to when it is said of certain apostates, There remaineth no more sacrifice for sin (in their cases), "but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries?" Heb. x, 27. Is it not the idea that they must inevitably share the devouring fire with these adversaries?