Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jan 12, 1882
General Articles.
By Ellen G. White
The Ark in Philistia.
BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.
THE loss of the ark was the heaviest blow which had fallen upon Israel since their establishment as a nation. Unfaithful to God as they had been, they still regarded this sacred symbol with awe and reverence, not unmixed with pride, as they recalled the glorious triumphs of the past. The tidings that it had been taken by the Philistines sent a thrill of terror through every heart, followed by the mute calmness of despair. Military power, could they command it, would not avail them now; and the strength of their men of war seemed paralyzed.
But the Lord had not wholly cast aside his chosen, nor would he long suffer the exultation of the heathen. He had used the Philistines as the instrument to punish Israel, and he would now employ the ark to punish the Philistines. In time past the divine presence had attended it to be the strength, salvation, and glory of his obedient people. That invisible presence would still attend it to bring terror and destruction to the bold transgressors of God's holy law.
The Philistines removed the ark in triumph to Ashdod, one of their five principal cities, and placed it in the house of their god, Dagon. They felt that now they had nothing to fear from Israel. In their superstitious ignorance they imagined that the mighty power which had hitherto attended the ark would be theirs, and this, united with the power of Dagon, would render them invincible. Attributing their success wholly to the favor of their god, they sought to show their gratitude by the most extravagant demonstrations of reverence and praise.
Their rejoicing was of short duration. Upon entering the temple on the following day, they beheld a sight which filled them with consternation. Dagon their god had fallen upon his face to the earth before the ark of Jehovah. Reverently the priests lifted the idol and restored him to his place. But the next morning they found him, strangely mutilated, again lying upon the earth before the ark. The upper part of this idol was like that of a man, and the lower part was in the likeness of a fish. Now every part that resembled the human form had been cut off, and only the uncouth body of the fish remained.
Priests and people were horror-struck as they beheld their cherished deity thus mutilated and dishonored. They looked upon this mysterious event as an evil omen foreboding destruction to themselves and their idols before the God of the Hebrews. They now removed the ark from their temple, and placed it in a building by itself.
The living God whom the Philistines had insulted and defied, had arisen to assert his authority and manifest his power. The divine judgments rested heavily upon Ashdod, and the inhabitants were smitten with a distressing and fatal disease. Remembering the plagues which were visited upon Egypt by the God of Israel, the people attributed their afflictions to the presence of the ark among them. Accordingly they assembled their leading men to consider what to do with the ark, declaring that it should no longer abide with them. It was decided to convey it to Gath. But the plague followed close upon its removal, and the men of that city sent it to Ekron.
Here the people received it with terror, crying, "They have brought about the ark of the God of Israel to us, to slay us and our people." They sought to their gods for protection, as the people of Gath and Ashdod had done. But the work of the destroyer went on, until, in their distress, "the cry of the city went up to heaven." Fearing longer to retain the ark among the homes of men, the people next placed it in the open fields. There followed a plague of mice, which infested the land, destroying the products of the soil, both in the storehouse and in the field. Utter destruction, by disease or famine, now threatened the nation, and gloomy forebodings for the future added to the heavy burden of the present.
In his dealings with the Philistines, God had shown how easily at his appointed time he can overthrow the stronghold of superstition, and sweep away the refuge of lies. The Lord often employs his bitterest enemies to punish the unfaithfulness of his professed people. The wicked may triumph for a time as they see Israel suffering chastisement; but let them be assured that the wrath of God will ere long fall with crushing weight upon themselves. However the sinner may now rejoice in the rewards of unrighteousness, the blind eyes will yet see, the hard heart one day feel, that a life of rebellion against God has been a terrible mistake.
For seven long months the ark remained in Philistia. During all this time the Israelites made no attempt to recover the symbol of Jehovah's presence. But the Philistines were now as anxious to free themselves from its power as they had been to obtain it. Instead of being a source of strength to them, it was a great burden and a heavy curse. Yet they knew not what course to pursue; for wherever it went, the judgments of God followed. The people called for the princes of the nation, with the priests and diviners, and eagerly inquired, "What shall we do to the ark of the Lord? Tell us wherewith we shall send it to his place." They were advised to return it with a costly trespass-offering, that the wrath of God might be appeased. "Then," said the priests, "ye shall be healed, and it shall be known to you why his hand is not removed from you."
In India at the present day, when a pilgrim comes to a pagoda or temple to be cured of any disease, he invariably brings with him a figure of the member or part affected, in gold, silver, or copper, according to his means, and presents it as an offering to his god. A similar custom was in vogue among the Philistines; and in accordance with the prevailing superstition, the lords directed the people to make representations of the plagues by which they had been afflicted,—"five golden emerods, and five golden mice, according to the number of the lords of the Philistines; for," said they, "one plague was on you all, and on your lords."
These wise men acknowledged a mysterious power accompanying the ark; a power which they had no wisdom to meet. Yet they did not counsel the people to turn from their idolatry to serve the Lord. They still hated the God of Israel, though compelled by overwhelming judgments to submit to his authority. Thus sinners may still be convinced by the judgments of God that it is in vain to contend against him. They may be compelled to submit to his power, while at heart they rebel against his control. Such submission may honor God, but it can have no power to save the transgressor. The heart must be yielded to God and subdued by divine grace before man's repentance can be accepted.
We are filled with wonder as we contemplate the long-suffering of God toward the wicked. The idolatrous Philistines and backsliding Israel had alike enjoyed the gifts of his providence. Rain and sunshine, objects of beauty, gifts for sustenance,—the music of birds, the fragrance and loveliness of flowers, fruits without number, pleasant to the sight and good for food, golden harvests to clothe the plain, and cattle upon the hills—all came to them from God. Ten thousand unnoticed mercies were silently falling in the pathway of ungrateful, rebellious men. Every blessing spoke to them of the Giver, but they were indifferent to his love. The forbearance of God was very great toward the children of men; but when they stubbornly persisted in their impenitence, he removed from them his protecting hand. They refused to listen to the voice of God in his created works, and in the warnings, counsels, and reproofs of his word, and he spoke to them through judgments. They rejected mercy, and the great I Am caused them to feel his power.
How many there are to-day, who, like the Philistines, will present offerings to God, but refuse to give him their hearts, and cast away their idols. How many with idolatrous delight set their affections on sparkling vanities, that must ere long be consumed, turning away from the only treasure worth possessing.
God still bears long with the wicked. He still surrounds them with temporal blessings. It is his hand that provides the bounties upon their tables. He gives them raiment and dwellings. There are rich fields for the harvest; there are flocks and herds, gold and silver, friends and health. Let God but remove his providential care, and what want, desolation, and inexpressible wretchedness would result! A blight would come upon the fields, every creature that ministers to our comfort would perish, and man himself would be swept from the earth as by a devouring plague. And yet men enjoy God's blessings, and, like the soulless beasts, return to him no grateful acknowledgment. They feel secure in their possessions, when a word, a breath, the slightest accident, might deprive them of their earthly all. No bounty or blessing can men claim as their own. All are committed to us as a trust, which, if not wisely improved, God will remove.
14The Philistines hoped by their offerings to appease the wrath of God, but they were ignorant of the one great sacrifice which alone can secure to sinful men the divine favor. Those gifts were powerless to atone for sin; for the offerers did not through them express faith in Christ. Not a ray of hope, no proffer of mercy, no token of God's favor, could have been ours, but for the cross of Calvary. Justice must have cut men off forever from temporal and spiritual blessings, separating us from God both here and hereafter, closing the door to all the joys of earth, and forever shutting out the brightness of Heaven. For us, Jesus trod the wine-press of God's wrath. "He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed." Let every son and daughter of Adam unite to exalt the name of Christ, as our King and our Redeemer. "For there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved."
ONE STEP MORE.
WHAT though before me it is dark,\nToo dark for me to see?\nI ask but light for one step more;\n'Tis quite enough for me.
Each little humble step I take,\nThe gloom clears from the next;\nSo though 'tis very dark beyond,\nI never am perplexed.
And if sometimes the mist hangs close,\nSo close I fear to stray,\nPatient I wait a little while,\nAnd soon it clears away.
I would not see my further path,\nFor mercy veils it so.\nMy present steps might harder be\nDid I the future know.
It may be that my path is rough,\nThorny, and hard and steep;\nAnd, knowing this, my strength might fail\nThrough fear and terror deep.
It may be that it winds along\nA smooth and flowery way;\nBut seeing this I might despise\nThe journey of to-day.
Perhaps my path is very short,\nMy journey nearly done,\nAnd I might tremble at the thought\nOf ending it so soon.
Or, if I saw a weary length\nOf road that I must wend,\nFainting I'd think, "My feeble powers\nWill fail me ere the end."
And so I do not wish to see\nMy journey or its length;\nAssured that, through my Father's love,\nEach step will bring its strength.
Thus step by step I onward go,\nNot looking far before;\nTrusting that I shall always have\nLight for just "one step more."\n-British Herald.
The Sinner's Wages.
By C. W. Stone
"For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Rom. 6:23.
My dear friends: Did it ever occur to you that the sinner is at work for wages? This is what the text teaches. Every act of disobedience to God is to have its appropriate reward—"the wages of sin is death."
While it is conceded by all Bible students that the sinner is to be punished, the opinions of men as to the kind of punishment differ widely. It is my purpose to notice briefly the doctrine of eternal conscious suffering of the wicked, and then to place before you the plain teaching of the Bible on the final destiny of the wicked.
"The wages of sin is death." I can conceive of no proper definition of the word death that can make it convey the idea of eternal life in misery. Should the sinner live forever, though in torment unspeakable, he never would see death. Suffering is not death. No degree of torment is death, so long as its subject does not die. But the apostle declared the wages of sin to be death; and we know that we rightly understand the meaning of the word to be the cessation of life, the opposite of life, for the apostle speaks of it in contrast with eternal life. "The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." This gift of eternal life comes through Jesus, and will be given to those alone who "by patient continuance in well-doing" seek for it. Rom. 2:5-7. But the wicked do not seek for it, and receive no gift through Christ; therefore they cannot live forever, but must die.
Eternity! Finite mind cannot grasp the idea that is named by that word. The old man with hoary head can look back over his three score years and ten, and estimate the length of that period; but he cannot comprehend the duration of a thousand years. But we are told that the sinner is to be tormented in fire and brimstone not a thousand years only, but years without end, eternally. If it were a million years, which is one hundred and sixty times as long as the world has stood, if it were ten millions of years even, there would be a distant spark of light to cheer the horrible blackness of despair at spending the long, unending ages in unutterable anguish which nothing can alleviate, and which death is not permitted to end. Ten million years would end some time, but the years of eternity unceasingly roll on.
If it be claimed that the lost in hell are continually sinning by blaspheming God in their misery, thus adding to their guilt eternally, we reply, there is no scripture which teaches that the lost in hell are ever to be judged for deeds done there, consequently they can never be punished for them. They are to be punished only for the sins of this life. God permits sin to exist for a time, but he will not perpetuate it by working a continuous miracle, to keep forever alive the blaspheming hosts of hell.
Many of the advocates of the doctrine in question now deny the literal fire of hell, and state that the fire is a symbol of the terrible burning of a guilty conscience, which is to be the punishment eternal of the wicked. To this I object; firstly, because there is not a Bible text for it; secondly, because it is contrary to the Bible; and thirdly, because it will not bear even the feeble light of reason. If it be true that a guilty conscience is to be the source of the sinner's eternal misery, then the most hardened wretch will suffer least, and the man who dies "almost a saint" will endure the heaviest punishment of all. The little boy who steals or swears for the first time, feels very guilty, and is afraid and sorry whenever he thinks of what he has done; but after a while he will swear and not think of it, and rob a savingsbank without twinge of conscience. Sin hardens the conscience, until it becomes as callous and unfeeling as though "seared with a hot iron."
Again, these same persons teach us that men go at death into this lake of fire, or rather this place where their consciences may them to mourn and feel such anguish. They teach us that the devil and his angels are now enduring the same torment. Whatever the nature of the punishment of the wicked, that of the devil and his angels is of the same sort; for the wicked are commanded in that day to depart "into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels." Matt. 25:41. Now, inasmuch as the devil is the originator of sin, he ought to suffer more than any human sinner. "The Lord shall reward the doer of evil according to his wickedness." 2 Samuel 3:39. Therefore it must be that as soon as the devil was cast into that place of punishment centuries ago, he began to be very sorrowful and the sense of his awful guilt has caused him to repent deeply of his sin, and to weep incessantly at his condition, and to feel unutterable sorrow as the wicked at times remind him that had it not been for him they would not now be in a like condition.
Cannot any one see that if this were the kind of punishment, the devil must long ago have ceased his work of tempting souls to sin? When a person is so conscience stricken over any wrong course he has pursued as to feel unutterable anguish day and night, we always expect to see him refrain immediately from such acts. Then all the wicked in torment would cease longer to curse God or do any wrong thing, and with loud weeping over their unchristian conduct in life they would send up one long, united wail of contrition and repentance. But one advocate of eternal torment says, that the lost in hell "utter as many blasphemies against God as the righteous shout hallelujahs to his praise."
Another phase of that doctrine is that the damned will forever be in sight of the saved, and that the "eternal sufferings of the lost will give the intelligent creation, as a whole, a higher knowledge and enjoyment of God." One writer says to the wicked, "When your godly parents have been in Heaven millions of years, they will not even then begin to pity you, but will praise God that their happiness is made perfect in your misery." To this slanderous sentiment we reply in the sarcastic language of Sylvanus Cobb, that we should "have a unanimous petition from the righteous to be disencumbered of that enormous surfeit of enjoyment which should be derived from the endless misery of others."
But what does the Bible say? It teaches us very plainly that there be a day of Judgment. God "hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world." Acts 17:31. "He that rejecteth me . . . . the word that I have spoken shall judge him in the last day." The judgment is placed among the events of the end of the world. In Rev. 11:15-18 it is mentioned among the closing scenes of this world's history. I now ask, Of what use is a future judgment, if men have all gone to their punishment at death? No one can answer this; and the simple fact that there is to be a day of Judgment proves that none have yet gone to their punishment.
This point, however, is plainly proven by direct Scripture testimony. "The Lord knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations, and to reserve the unjust unto the day of Judgment to be punished." 2 Pet. 2:9. "Where are the dwelling-places of the wicked? Have ye not asked them that go by the way [them that walk in the road, the highway]? and do ye not know their tokens [have ye not observed the tombstones, the tokens of the dead], that the wicked is reserved to the day of destruction? They shall be brought forth to the day of wrath." Job 21:28-30. And in Rev. 11:18 we learn that "the time of the dead that they should be judged" is followed by the time to reward the prophets and to destroy the wicked. This, indeed, is so reasonable that it scarcely needs an argument. This is the way in which all law is executed. In no case does the executioner hang a man before he has had his trial in court; and if, perchance, a mob hang him before the time set for his trial or judgment, his trial would never take place.
This principle being established, we go farther, and state that even the fallen angels with Satan at their head are not yet receiving their punishment. "And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day." Jude 6. "They are reserved unto the day of Judgement, when they will receive their sentence, and be punished. When the Saviour met the two mediums under the "possession" or "control" of devils, the devils said to him, "Art thou come to torment us before the time?" Matt. 8:29. This text shows that the devils were not then in torment, and also that they really know that at some future time they are to be punished. At present the devil is "going to and fro in the earth," and "walking up and down in it." Job 1:7. His business is to lead men down to destruction. As a roaring lion he seeketh his prey. 1 Pet. 5:8. (Concluded next week.)
The Whole Heart.
Our times demand not only a wise and prudent service of the Master, but a whole-hearted, self-forgetful service. It is not sufficient to say, I do my share. In a world where as a rule, all fail, to do only one's share is to do badly. A man's excellence begins where he exceeds his share, his equal part of what is done. The real question is, Can I not do more? If I can, my duty, my share is not done. Very few of us have actually done our best for God or for his church, or our race, or our neighbors, or even for ourselves. Flesh and blood must be kept out of every council for God or for humanity. It is as much out of place in such councils as Satan was among the sons of God.
The sacrifice of all our property for righteousness sake may be the best use that we can make of it. You have your fine farm, your good wife has toiled hard with you, for it, and she deserves to enjoy it. It is rightfully yours; you can now support your family and educate your children. On a chance visit to the county seat you learn there is a flaw in the title. It is of a kind that the oath of a good man like yourself would remedy it. You look the alternative in the face—a false oath and plenty—truth and poverty. It is for an instant only. You go home and tell your wife that she is poor and homeless; that the children must be taken out of school, and that you must begin life again as a poor man and beyond middle age. Your wife tells you a good name is better than riches, and she goes down into poverty with you with a graceful resignation that adds to the bitterness of your lot. That night the regiment of angels that encamp around them that fear him, gather in close and watchful bands about you, and say to one another, he is a braver and better man, and he is nearer to God than he ever was before.
Faith rejects flesh and blood as a factor in Christian character, one who is above the baser elements of self, on a higher plane than the lower motives of life, will be ready to lose time, to give service beyond his share, to labor without stint, to risk reputation or even life. Such a character costs a great deal. All valuable things cost. "Cost nothing, worth nothing," holds alike on change and in church. The vacillating self-counseling one, the eye-servant, man-pleaser, who is whirled by the changing wind is worth nothing to himself, to the church, or to the world.—Golden Censer.
Thoughts of Sin and God
By Dr. Owens
He that hath light thoughts of sin, never had great thoughts of God.—Dr. Owens.
Vanity
Vanity—the sin's index of a small mind and a smaller heart. It flatters its victim, beyond measure, and blinds him to the ridicule and contempt of better men. He fails to see his folly, or the danger of his delusion. His feet shod with conceit, his body wrapped in self-righteousness, he honestly thanks God he is not like other men. You may tell me his weakness is a harmless folly, that it hurts nobody. Don't be too fast; vanity is one of the most prolific sources of unbelief, Sabbath-breaking, and moral stupidity, to which our depraved natures are exposed. It was vanity that killed a beautiful Absalom, strangled Haman, led Nebuchadnezzar out to eat grass like an ox, and sent many a man, and woman too, on a fool's errand. No, vanity is not so harmless a folly as some try to believe.—Sel.
Walk When You Begin.
It is said that when Chief Justice Oliver Ellsworth commenced the practice of his profession, he was accustomed to walk to and from his office, while a merchant of the same city rode a much less distance in grand style. Once, pausing and proffering a ride, he questioned Ellsworth as to why he did not also sport a carriage, and received for answer, “Because I have found that persons must walk at some period of their lives, and I choose to walk when I begin.” The sequel proved the truth of the assertion, for later in life, when the dashing merchant had failed, and was forced to go afoot, the Chief Justice rode in his carriage, and bore the honors of Minister Plenipotentiary to France.
The wisdom of the answer is apparent to all who have watched the fluctuations of business life, and reflected upon the causes of disaster. Walking when he began, would have saved many a man from wreck; many a home from the iron grasp of the law; many a family from the poor-house. It is the launching out into extravagance that cuts to the core. Carriages and fast horses are the premonitory symptoms of failure in the great majority of cases. Money taken from business for such purposes, is like draining the life-blood from the veins, as cupping the heart, upon the healthy movements of which all the functions depend. There is a sturdy manhood shown in the young by walking, that commands respect and justifies confidence, while foolish and luxuriant outlay creates suspicion as to stamina and distrust as to credit.
Walking at the beginning shows strength of will, independence of character, and that the foundation is laid upon something less shifting than sand. It gives practical assurance that there is nerve and muscle behind, capable of enduring the strain, and meeting the troubles of life without flinching. The sturdy pedestrian commands respect even from the snob who rolls by in a carriage, and his bread tastes ten times more sweet, his digestion remains unimpaired, and his slumber is indeed rest. Putting all other phases of the question aside for the moment, walking pays a very large interest on the investment in health. There is no exercise that can compare with it, when judiciously employed. To one confined in an office, to one whose hours are mostly passed at a desk, to one whose labor is especially that of the head, it stands before all others, and is the best possible training for the mental prize ring.
But we attempt not to discuss it from a medical stand-point. It is with the effect upon business relations that we would enforce the lesson taught by the little story heading this article; and that is, if we correctly understand it, that man must not scorn little beginnings if he would triumph in the end; and the word “walking,” in this connection, is fraught with a far wider and deeper meaning than the simple stretching of the muscles of the limbs; it embraces a thousand littles that go to make up the sum total of prosperity. Granting that the simile of going on foot and in a carriage is a forcible one of the whole, yet the idea must be carried out through all the various shades of a business life if the “true inwardness” of the matter is understood.
You must walk before you can safely indulge in any other means of getting over space. You must be content to accomplish littles, to be saving of the littles, to accumulate by the penny, before you can expect the pound. Expenditure for style, for show, for luxury, to save the use of your legs, is a dangerous experiment for the beginners in business. The cost must be closely estimated, and it must be demonstrated with mathematical precision that it will pay before the risk is taken. Pleasure is rarely, if ever, an institution that returns golden sheckels. It may be gratifying to pride, may be convenient, agreeable, lessen labor, and help to avoid dust and mud, to keep a carriage; it is “nice to see your wives and daughters keep up with the neighbors;” may be in some cases beneficial to their health; but upon the opposite side of the ledger stands the paramount consideration of the drain upon the cash account, and the inability to sustain it without such sacrifices as will leave the arm of business paralyzed, and the chance of riding and lolling upon velvet cushions very slim when age has come, the steps feeble, and the powers to accomplish greatly weakened, if not entirely gone.
Better walk when you are young and vigorous, than to be forced to creep on with a staff in old age. Better begin at, than come out of, the little end of the horn; better be guided by you “can,” than be driven by the tyrant “must;” better wear out sole-leather, than credit and independence and manhood; better be your own master while young, than the slave of another when your hair is thin and white with the frosts of many winters.
Of the truth and wisdom of this, the world is so full of striking examples that you cannot shut your eyes to them if you would. The ranks of aged and dependent poverty are so thronged with those who rode when they should have walked, that the lesson should need no further impressing. It stands full-faced before us in every class and condition of life; it is as the light-house flaming through the stormy darkness upon a rocky coast, and bidding all beware of approach. The records of bankruptcy, the imprisonment of the debtor, the law to collect, the books filled with mortgages, the closed doors of many a once fair mart of trade, the sacrifice of the property under the hammer of the auctioneer, all point to the same cause—to the rolling in carriages when one should have walked; to the squandering of means for luxury when it was unjustified by the resources.
A Thankful Spirit.
Is THERE a Christian life so utterly destitute of anything, as to have nothing for which to be thankful? Are there not in every life, and in every lot even to the humblest and hardest, many daily blessings, many exemptions from evil, and many interpositions of good, which we ought to recognize as coming from God, and which we ought to receive and acknowledge with a thankful spirit?
There may be an innumerable train of mercies along our pathway, but, if there happen to be one discomfort among them, all the mercies, and all the comforts are apt to be forgotten by the remembrance of the most trivial inconvenience.
Outward circumstances of disquiet, and the many little annoyances which we have to encounter through life, unquestionably have a tendency to mar our happiness, but one secret of a happy life is always looking on the bright side.
Are not our lives absolutely filled with blessings multiplied from hour to hour, and repeated from day to day, if we had but eyes to see them and hearts to be grateful for them? If we do not see them, and feel them, the fault certainly lies in us; we do not consider the source from whence they come.
It is our duty and privilege to think, and plan, and labor, to do the best thing, and accomplish the most good; but we too often trust our own wisdom; and fail to seek him who has promised to give to all who ask, and thereby fail to accomplish what we most desire.
If we accustom ourselves to see God's hand in every event of life—to live in daily acknowledgment of blessings received, we will find many obstacles removed which stand in our way of happiness; and the many little annoyances of our daily life will be smoothed away, and bright beams of sunshine will illuminate our pathway, and joy and gladness will reign in our heart.
We are too prone to borrow from the future, neglecting to-day. The sweet warblers of the forest will sing a song of praise even when the sky is black with the coming tempest; may we not learn a lesson from these?
Why should we vex, and worry ourselves with care—why fill our nights with weariness and our days with toil, when it only impairs our capability of distinguishing things that are excellent?
Gloom, fault finding, ungenerous criticism, these dismal weapons of despair, should find no abiding home in our hearts. There is no disposition of mind so unfriendly to comfort and usefulness. They but tend to hush the sweet music of nature and darken the brightest skies; destroy peace where peace should reign paramount. Then let us banish from our thought all words of complaining and despondency, and receive the sweet things of life, with a cheerful, happy, thankful spirit.— Arkansas Beacon.
Brothers and Sisters.
We have noticed, sometimes, that brothers and sisters, while kind and polite to others, are, to one another, as snappish and disagreeable as they can be. The boy who takes off his hat to the girl across the street and is ready to rush to her help when she drops her books or fan or has some trouble in opening the gate, would not think of treating his sister in the same way. To her, he is as rude as a bear. And so, on the other hand, the young lady, who in society, is all smiles and sweetness, is oftentimes, at home, as surly and sour to her own brother as she can make herself. Of their comfort and happiness, she scarcely ever has a thought.
Now this ought not so to be. We should be as careful and loving and attentive towards our brothers and sisters, as toward other people. Politeness is as binding on us at our own home, as at other people’s homes. That brother who neglects his sister, and that sister who tyrannizes over her brother, are both acting an unworthy part. Brothers, be gentle. Sisters, be considerate. Thus you will make home what it ought to be: the sweetest place on earth. Thus will you save yourselves from bitter memories which sometimes, when it is too late, gnaw the heart.—Ex.
The Evil of Defamation
By Addison
It is a certain sign of an evil heart to be inclined to defamation, for it ever arises from the lack of what is commendable in one's self and impatience of seeing it in others.—Addison.
A Woman's Wit.
By Independent
A woman's advice is generally worth having; so, if you are in any trouble, tell your mother or your wife or your sister all about it. Be assured that light will flash upon your darkness. Women are too commonly judged verdant in all but purely womanish affairs. No philosophical students of the sex thus judge them. Their intuitions or insights are the most subtle, and if they cannot see a cat in the meal, there is no cat there. I advise a man to keep none of his affairs from his wife. Many a home has been saved, and many a fortune retrieved, by a man's full confidence in his wife. Woman is far more a seer and a prophet than man, if she be given a fair chance. As a general rule, the wives confide the minutest of their plans and thoughts to their husbands. Why not reciprocate, if but for the pleasure of meeting confidence with confidence? The men that succeed best in life are those who make confidants of their wives.—Independent.
Style.
By Editor
Excellent advice is proffered to young writers in the following extract from Good Words. The editor says, "Style of composition, though to some persons it comes naturally, does not come to all. When I was young, an older and more experienced writer once said to me:—
‘Never use two adjectives where one will do; never use an adjective at all where a noun will do. Avoid italics, notes of exclamation, foreign words and quotations. Put full stops instead of colons; make your sentences as short and clear as you possibly can, and whenever you think you have written a particularly fine sentence, cut it out.’
More valuable advice could not be given to any young author. It strikes at the root of that slip-shod literature of which we find so much nowadays, even in writers of genius. To these latter, indeed, it is a greater temptation; their rapid, easy pen runs on as the fancy strikes."
Don't Talk Loudly.
NOTHING marks a true gentleman or lady more surely than a low voice, and a man can have it as well as a woman. A loud voice either arises from extreme carelessness or from low breeding. No one likes to walk beside a person on the street who talks loudly. The same rule applies to boys and girls. Play is one thing and conversation quite another, though the former need not be boisterous. Children may have good lungs, and use them in cheering when the right time comes, but when they talk, a low, distinct voice marks one accustomed to good society and possessed of innate refinement.
The Real Christian
A REAL Christian seldom sees a defect in his neighbor. A pure lake reflects the beautiful sky, and the whole overhanging trees, but when it is rough it reflects nothing that is pure. A bad man—a real scoundrel—seldom sees a good trait in the character of his neighbor. An imperfect glass reflects nothing correctly, but shows its own deficiency. A perfect mirror reflects nothing but bright and pure images.