Review and Herald, Vol. 40, No. 19. (10/22/1872)

Review and Herald

Oct 22, 1872

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 22, 1872

A SERMON FOR THE LONELY ONES.

By D. T. Bourdeau

BY ELD. D. T. BOURDEAU.

TEXT: Heb. 13:5: “Be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

These words were addressed by the apostle Paul to those who could appreciate their force from experience. The epistle to the Hebrews was written by Paul in Italy near the close of his interesting career, for the benefit of Hebrew Christians, many of whom were scattered in Gentile nations, where they had spent lonely years away from the land of their fathers and from their dear people. Doubtless in their loneliness, feelings of discontent had come over them. They were deprived of the society of their brethren, and some of them could not see that their lives were of much use to the Gentiles with whom they were sojourning. And especially would they have a yearning after their Christian brethren in Palestine after their conversion to Christianity. But the apostle wanted them to be content with such things as they had, whether in the line of property or of spiritual blessings. And he assigns as a reason, “He [God] hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

This, God had first said to Jacob in vision, when away from his father’s house and his dear mother whom he was never again permitted to see. While homeless and friendless, with stones for his pillow and the canopy of heaven for his covering, he is wrapped up in heavenly vision, and “behold a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven: and behold the angels of God ascending and descending on it. And, behold, the Lord stood above it, and said, . . . I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land; for I will not leave thee. . . . And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not. And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of Heaven.” Gen. 28:12-17.

Although Jacob was away from his friends and his accustomed place of worship, yet God and angels were near; he found a place of worship, the gate of Heaven. And this is the privilege of all the lonely ones. Such a feast as this is better than to be with many earthly friends, without the blessing of God.

The lonely and isolated readers of the REVIEW, who have not the privilege of associating with those of like precious faith and of hearing the living preacher, have trials peculiar to themselves; yet the grace of God is sufficient to meet their wants and make them strong in their lonely and tried condition. God has brought the truth to them just where they are, knowing that they can obey him under the circumstances in which they are placed. True, they are deprived of many privileges that others enjoy. But they are also especially remembered by those who are more pleasantly situated; and above all, God’s eye is upon them, and they have the sympathies of Jesus, who was tempted in all points, and is able and willing to succor those who are tempted. Such have the special watchcare of holy angels, and they may enjoy an uncommon portion of the strengthening and encouraging blessings of God’s Spirit, to more than make up for the lacks that they sustain. Is not this thought cheering, ye lonely and almost discouraged ones? Look up to your kind Heavenly Father who careth for you. Look to Jesus, your compassionate High Priest, who pleads day and night for his people, and whose large affections are ever moved toward those in want and distress. Look at the myriads of the heavenly host surrounding Jesus, and who are sent to minister for those who shall be heirs of salvation, Heb. 1:14, and cheer up, ye lonely and desponding ones. If God, Christ, and holy angels, are nearer you on account of your loneliness, you are certainly not alone.

While your position has disadvantages, it also has great advantages. Let us enumerate some of them. If you are faithful, and improve upon the means of grace within your reach,

You will be more liable to lean on God than you otherwise would. When many believers are thrown together, they are in danger of leaning on each other.
You will find God especially near to you, and a true support, and an unfailing source of strength and wisdom.
You will be more liable to learn the lesson of self-reliance, to get a personal experience in the things of God, to test the efficacy of the means of grace for yourselves, and will not be mere shadows of others.
Your position will teach you the important lesson of self-denial. As you deny yourselves in one thing, it will be easier for you to deny yourselves in other things.
Your position leading you to exercise more, and to be more in earnest, the result will be a greater increase of spiritual strength, greater power to do and suffer for God. Trees that are alone root deep, and are strong and able to resist the wind and tempest; while trees that are shadowed by other trees are weak and slender, and could not endure much if exposed to the tempest.
You will not be in danger of patterning after weak brethren, and will be full as liable to follow after the unerring Guide, and imitate the perfect Pattern, the Lord Jesus Christ.
Your necessity will be God’s opportunity to work for and through you mightily to his name’s honor and glory; for as you are alone, you will not look for the applause of your brethren, and you do not expect much praise from the world. God has left interesting cases on record as illustrative of this truth, for your encouragement. David, all alone, and relying by faith on the mighty God of Israel, slew Goliath, and brought deliverance to his people.

Noah and his family must have had sad and lonely feelings in their day; but they were engaged in a great work, and God wrought for them, and honored them at last. Daniel’s position in the lions’ den must have seemed lonely and dreary to his enemies; but the angel of God was with him, and God was honored in the salvation of his servant. When refined Jeremiah was cast into a dungeon, and sank in the mire, the truthfulness and certainty of his testimony shone forth with special luster. The beloved apostle was banished on the isle of Patmos, where he wrote the most interesting prophecy of the Bible. Daniel wrote his prophecy when in captivity, and disseminated the knowledge of the God of Heaven. Paul’s imprisonment of two years, at Caesarea, gave him an opportunity to preach the gospel before kings and nobles. Bunyan, in his imprisonment, wrote his famous Pilgrim’s Progress, which has encouraged and gladdened many hearts. Luther fled from his enemies, who published that he was dead; but he was engaged in translating the Bible.

At the time of Christ’s first advent, through the providence of God, thousands of pious Hebrews were scattered among heathen nations in Europe, Asia, and Africa, where they had promulgated the knowledge of the living God, and turned many to the worship of the Most High; and when these Hebrews were converted to Christianity, they realized that their labors had not been in vain, and they opened the way for the spread of the gospel among the Gentiles, where they had led many to keep God’s Sabbaths and commandments. What a saving of time and strength this proved to the apostles as they went to the Gentiles. Think you the apostles will have all the reward for leading the thousands of Gentiles to embrace Christianity? Nay, verily; the pious Hebrews will come in for a noble share.

Dear scattered and lonely ones, the experience of the pious Hebrews may be your experience, and their reward your reward. God’s providence has placed you where you are that you may be missionaries,—lights in this dark world. If you are faithful, you will not remain alone long. Others are receiving favorable impressions, when you are perhaps the least aware of it. Do not give way to discouragement. You are engaged in a great and noble work. Do not give way to the influence of the world, and of cold, proud, and formal professors. Keep yourselves unspotted from the world. Cherish a spirit of contentment. Remember that God is with you, and has promised to never forsake you. Let others know that there is power in God and his truth to preserve you. Keep the example of Jesus before you. He left the realms of glory, and dwelt in this dark world to save us. And he was accomplishing the greatest work in connection with human redemption when forsaken of God, of men, and of angels. Obtain an experience whereby you can comfort and strengthen those who are lonely. Work for God, and you will realize that your labors have not been in vain in the sight of the Lord.

Praying and Working.

By C. H. Spurgeon

I LIKE that saying of Martin Luther when he says: “I have so much business to do to-day that I shall not be able to get through it with less than three hours’ prayer.” Now, most people would say, “I have so much business to do to-day that I can have only three minutes’ prayer; I cannot afford the time.” But Luther thought that the more he had to do, the more he must pray, or else he could not get through it. That is a blessed kind of logic; may we understand it! “Praying and provender hinder no man’s journey.” If we have to stop to pray, it is no more a hindrance than when the driver has to stop at the farrier’s to have his horse’s shoe fastened; for if he went on without attending to that, it may be that ere long he would come to a stop of a far more serious kind.—C. H. Spurgeon.

THE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT:

By W. H. L.

Or the Sunday, The Sabbath, The Change, and The Restitution.

No. I.

ONE of the marked features of our time is the tendency toward the discussion of the Sabbath question. Nor can this subject be treated with more indifference in the future than it is at the present. Agitation, ceaseless, unrelenting, excited, and finally severe, is rendered certain by the temper of all the parties to the controversy. On the one hand, the friends of Sunday observance are dissatisfied with the laxity of the regard which is paid it, and are loud in their demands for statutory relief; denouncing upon the nation the wrath of God, in unstinted measure, should their petition be set at naught. On the other hand, the enemies of the Sabbatic institution, in all of its phases, are becoming bold in their protestations against a legalized Sabbath, as something extremely oppressive and inexpressibly intolerable in its very nature.

In all parts of the country, activity characterizes the camps of both these contending hosts. Everywhere the elements of strength—hitherto unorganized, and inefficient to the accomplishment of great results because of that fact—are being brought out and employed in effective service.

Cincinnati, Chicago, New York, Boston, San Francisco, in their turn, become the theaters where the skirmish lines of future combatants, on a larger scale, are brought into occasional collision. The ordinary appliances of dinners, processions, national and State conventions, city, town, and district societies, are rapidly becoming the order of the day, while those who are brought within the range of their influence, are stimulated and aroused on the one hand by earnest appeals to the Bible and religion, and on the other, to natural rights and individual conscience. So far has the matter now proceeded, so much has already been said, so fully has the contest been opened, that retrogression means defeat to either the one or the other party. And as to compromise, this can never be attained, from the fact that the position from which both parties are now seeking to emerge is that of toleration. Why, says the ardent advocate of the Sunday law, it is not sufficient that I observe the day of rest with strictness and fidelity in my own family. I owe a duty to the public; I am a member of a great Commonwealth, which God treats as a personality, and if I do not see to it that the statute laws of the land are in harmony with, and enforce the requirements of, the law of God, this nation, like all others which have ignored their obligation to legalize and enforce his will in matters of this nature, will be devoted to a ruin for which I shall be accountable, and in which I shall be a sharer. Moved by such considerations as these, his purse is open and his labors untiring for the accomplishment of that which now appears to him to be in the line of both individual interest and religious duty.

Again, his neighbor across the way being, perhaps, of the free-thinking order, and an ardent admirer of the complete separation of Church and State—wonders that he has so long consented to that abridgement of his personal liberty which has been made by statutory provision, and which has hitherto compelled him to surrender much of what he calls natural right to the whims and caprices of those with whom he differs so widely on all questions bearing upon the relation of man to his God. Henceforth, says he, I pledge my means, my influence, and my untiring effort to a revolution which,

if need be, shall shake society to its very center, rather than to consent to the legalized perpetuation of an institution which requires on my part an acknowledgment of a faith which I have never held, and of doctrines which I detest.

Of course, all do not share alike, either in the enthusiasm or the animosity which characterizes certain individuals when entering upon a conflict like the one in question. In every party is found more or less of the aggressive and the conservative elements. Especially is this true in the incipient stages of its history. Some men are necessarily more earnest than are others in everything which they undertake. Some are bold, headlong, defiant; others, cautious, slow, and timid. One class leaps to its conclusions first, and looks for its arguments afterward; the other moves circumspectly, and—while it gives a general assent to the desirability of results—finds a world of trouble in deciding upon what means ought to be employed in securing them. One is forever foaming because of delay, and fears defeat as the result of hesitation; while the other protests against too rapid and ill-considered action.

Such is, at present, the condition more especially of the positive side of the Sunday movement in this country. The strong men and the weak men, the resolute men and the undecided men, are struggling for the mastery of the policy in the camp. One sort discovers no difficulties in the way of immediate and complete success. Lead us to the front, say they, our cause is just, and all that is necessary to success is the courage and inspiration of battle. But hold, say the others, not too fast; public sentiment is not prepared for the issue. And besides, we are not so clear in our minds as are you, respecting the lengths to which this controversy should be carried, and the line of argument which ought to be pursued. Why, say the first, what need can there be of more delay? Nothing is more manifest than the means which we ought to employ for the accomplishment of our purpose. Our work is simply that of enforcement. Has not God said in so many words, in the Decalogue, “Six days shalt thou labor and do all thy work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God, in it thou shalt not do any work”? Is not this language explicit? Is it not a part of that law which nearly all Christians acknowledge to be binding? Do we not enforce the observance of the remaining commandments by statutory provision? And is it not equally clear that this should be treated in like manner? Why delay then? Why not move upon the enemy’s works with the inspiring battle-cry of “God in the Constitution”? Why not at once clamor for the amendment of that instrument, and for the passage of statutes by which the better observance of the Christian Sabbath can be secured?

Give us these, and our victory is won. Our Sunday mails, and trains, and travel, and public amusements of every name and nature, can be removed at a single stroke. As a result, the nation will stand higher in the estimation of God, and the people, having acknowledged his supremacy, will have taken a long step in the direction of final renovation and conversion.

But wait, says another, not too fast in matters of so great moment. Please bear in mind the fact that this contest is to be one of words and arguments. Your danger is that of underrating the capacity and intelligence of our opponents. If you expect to meet them successfully, it must be by a logic which will bear criticism and examination.

As an individual, I am by no means certain that the Bible authority for our movement is so clear and abundant as you seem to imagine.

The law which you quote in justification of our course is truly a Sabbath law, and its import is unmistakable; but, unfortunately, instead of making for our cause, it is diametrically opposed to your efforts, and plainly declares that the seventh day of the week is the Sabbath of the Lord, whereas you are unmistakably occupying before the world a position no less awkward than that of insisting that the first, and not the seventh, is the one which should be enforced by legal enactment. While, therefore, I am in full sympathy with the general purposes of this movement, I am convinced that, before we shall succeed, we must rest it upon a different basis than the fourth commandment. So far as my individual preferences go—in order to avoid the difficulties which lie along the line of Scripture justification for our conduct—I suggest that we rest it upon the broad principle of social necessity, relying for our success upon the generally conceded fact that rest upon one day in seven is indispensable to the well-being of individuals and communities.

But, says a third party, while I agree with you in condemning the proposition that the fourth commandment, as originally given, furnishes us warrant for the observance of the first day of the week, I can never consent to the idea of its unconditional repeal; for without it in some form we are entirely without a Sabbath law; a condition of things which would be deplorable indeed. I therefore conclude that that law has been brought over into our dispensation, and so far changed as to adapt it to the enforcement of the observance of the first day of the week, agreeably to the example of Christ and the apostles. With this view, I can safely predict power and triumph for the grand scheme upon which we have entered. Give us a Sabbath of divine appointment and backed by a sacred precept, and victory is certain. But so sure as we lower the controversy to one which is merely corporeal in its nature and results, and pecuniary in its considerations, defeat is written upon our banners, since you have taken from us all the inspiration of the contest, and dried up the very springs of our enthusiasm and courage.

What the final result of such discussions will be, there is little room for doubt. That a revolution is fairly inaugurated in the minds of the people, it is now too late to question. What remains to be done, therefore, is simply to execute the grand purpose for which it has been instituted.

That this cannot be accomplished by a merely negative policy, has been illustrated too many times in history to require further demonstration. Men, having once entered the field of conflict, universally become less and less scrupulous in regard to the means employed to secure the desired object. In the primary meetings of a great movement, the voice of the conservatives may be listened to with attention and respect; but should he give expression to the same prudent counsel upon the battle field, when the sword of the enemy is red with the blood of his compatriots, his utterances would be silenced in a storm of indignation such as would threaten his very existence, and consign his name to the list of those whose fidelity was at least questionable, and whose sympathy with the common foe was far from being impossible.

So likewise with the half-way men in this incipient struggle, which is about to throw open the gates of controversy upon one of those religious questions which, above all others, are sure to be characterized, first, by uncharitableness, and, finally, by bitter hate and animosity. With each advancing month their hold upon the confidence of their associates will grow less and less, and the counsels of their party will come more and more fully under the control of those positive, nervous spirits, who are swept along by convictions so deep and strong that they will bear down everything before them.

Nevertheless, candid reader, it is by no means certain that there may not be much of truth in the positions assumed by the more moderate men in the existing issue. At all events—since we have not as yet entered into that impassioned state of the public mind from which calm deliberation is banished by the necessity of immediate action—let us pause here for a moment, and carefully weigh the correctness of the suggestions presented above.

Is it worth the while to enter the lists in the approaching struggle, in order to secure the results proposed.

I say proposed, because, of course, the result is as yet more or less uncertain; nevertheless, we incline to the opinion that the end desired will be substantially realized, so far as appearance is concerned. Yet this will not be brought about in a moment, nor will it be accomplished without a hard fight. It must, from the very necessity of the case, be a contest which will enter, divide, and distract families, and which will alienate a large portion of the community from the balance. But, with a united and well-drilled ministry, on the one hand, backed by the compact organization of their respective churches, and opposed by a heterogeneous mass of discordant elements, there can be little doubt as to final success.

First, then, let us suppose that the policy inaugurated shall be that of the class represented above as desiring to strip the subject of its religious garb, and to array it in the habiliments of mere policy and temporal considerations. Are the benefits reasonably to be expected from such a course, such as would warrant the enthusiasm now manifested by the advocates of the proposed reformation? We believe not. In fine, so certain are we of it, that we should not hesitate to predict immediate and perfect paralysis to their efforts, so soon as they should inscribe this doctrine upon their banners. How many of the gentlemen in question are really so profoundly interested in the social status of the working-man that their zeal in his behalf could be wrought up to the point of sacrificing time and money, and of devoting voice and pen to the mere work of giving him a septenary day of physical rest? What satisfaction would be afforded them by the reflection that, as the result of legal enactment, the carefully appointed police in our great cities should be able to meet each other on the boundary lines of their respective beats, on the morning of Sunday, with the accustomed salutation, All is quiet! and cessation from labor is complete in all parts of the great metropolis? Who would highly prize a co-erced rest of this sort? What particular gratification would be afforded to the religious world, as they gather in their costly churches, by the thought that the great mass of the people were quietly sleeping, or leisurely lounging in the various places of their retirement? Certainly there is nothing in such a state of things which offers results sufficiently desirable either to reward them for the great sacrifices with which it would be necessary that they should be purchased, in the first instance, or to secure that patient continuance in vigilant perseverance which would be required to ensure the perpetuity of an order of things at once so compulsory and so precarious. We say, therefore, that to rest the contest upon this issue would be simply to falsify the facts. It is not the physical consideration of rest, in any large degree, which animates the mind and strengthens the resolve of those engaged in the newly organized reform. No; there is something behind all this. The informing soul, that which electrifies, stimulates, and nerves to action, is the profound conviction that this is a religious movement: that which is sought, is the honoring of God by the observance of a Sabbath, such as is found in his word. If this be not so, if the higher idea of Christian worship as the primary one is not paramount in this matter, then the whole thing is a farce, from beginning to end. Not only so; if what is sought is merely the improvement of bodily condition, then the plan suggested is, in many cases, far from being the best which might be offered. Take, if you please, our over-populated cities, with the dense masses of human beings who are there crowded together, under most unfavorable circumstances, many of them perishing for lack of pure air, and others pale and sickly for want of exposure to the vivifying rays of the sun, which is continually shut out from their gaze by the massive piles of masonry by which they are enclosed; who will not say that, leaving the spiritual out of consideration, and setting aside the idea of the sanctity of the day, it would be a blessing incalculably greater for them, should provision be made whereby this should become to them a day of recreation, while wandering amid flowers, and over hills, and through groves, instead of one in which, either from necessity or choice, they should still perpetuate the confinement which has already nearly proved fatal in their cases?—W. H. L., in Christian Union.

(To be Continued.)*

SORROW

Upon my lips she laid her touch divine, And merry speech and careless laughter died; She fixed her melancholy eyes on mine, And would not be denied.

I saw the west wind loose his cloudlets white In flocks, careering through the April sky; I could not sing, though joy was at its height, For she stood silent by.

I watched the lovely evening fade away— A mist was lightly drawn across the stars. She broke my quiet dream, I heard her say, “Behold your prison-bars!”

“Earth’s gladness shall not satisfy your soul, This beauty of the world in which you live; The crowning grace that sanctifies the whole, That I alone can give.”

I heard, and shrank away from her afraid; But still she held me, and would still abide. Youth’s bounding pulses slackened and obeyed, With slowly ebbing tide.

“Look thou beyond the evening sky,” she said, “Beyond the changing splendors of the day, Accept the pain, the weariness, the dread, Accept, and bid me stay!”

I turned and clasped her close, with sudden strength, And slowly, sweetly, I became aware Within my arms God’s angel stood, at length, White-robed, and calm, and fair.

And now I look beyond the evening star, Beyond the changing splendors of the day, Knowing the pain he sends more precious far, More beautiful, than they. —Dublin University Magazine.

Dying Words of John Randolph.

“HE suddenly roused himself, and exclaimed, ‘Remorse! remorse!’ It was thrice repeated, the last time at the top of his voice, with great agitation. He cried out—‘Let me see the word.’ ‘There is none in the room, sir.’ ‘Write it down, then—let me see the word.’ The doctor picked up one of his cards—‘Randolph of Roanoke’—‘Shall I write it on the cards?’ ‘Yes, nothing more proper.’ The word remorse was then written in pencil. He took the card in a hurried manner, and fastened his eyes on it with great intensity. ‘Write it on the back,’ he exclaimed. It was so done and handed him again. He was extremely agitated,—‘Remorse! you have no idea what it is; you can form no idea of it whatever.’”—Life of John Randolph of Roanoke, pp. 373–4.

Such were the feelings of a distinguished politician when the whole was summed up in one word—“REMORSE!” How different the Christian’s dying language, who sums up all his feelings in one word, and says—“GLORY.” Let us all be Christians instead of politicians.

Our “Artful Dodgers.”

By A City Pastor

BY A CITY PASTOR.

One of the oldest and most respected pastors in New York once remarked in the hearing of the writer, that after a long experience, he was forced to believe that every stranger who called upon him, without any credentials, to solicit pecuniary aid, was an impostor. This seems somewhat uncharitable, and yet our own experience is rapidly tending to the same conclusion. The number of impecunious individuals, young and old, male and female, white and black, polished and rough, insinuating and repulsive, who call on the clergy almost daily for aid, with the variety of tales which they tell, would make material for a large volume. If half the address, ingenuity, and persistence which these “artful dodgers” exhibit in the pursuit of their trade, were expended on some honest calling, we are quite sure that large success would be the result. The various forms of imposture which they practice would illustrate the pages of many a “Rogues’ Calendar.” Some of them are very ingenious. For instance, a man calls on Rev. Dr. ——, and desires his immediate presence at the house of one of his parishioners, whose children are seriously ill. The Doctor’s pastoral sympathies are aroused, and he prepares to accompany the messenger at once. While putting on his overcoat, he asks:

“What is the name of the family?”

“Thompson, Doctor; the children belong to your Sunday-school.”

“Thompson—Thompson! I do not think that I have any family of that name on my parish list.”

“Oh! yes, Doctor; the children belong to your mission school, and they are very sick with small-pox.”

The Doctor pauses. He doubts whether it is his duty to run the risk of bringing a deadly disease to his own family, and he hesitates. The man observes it, and says:

“Indeed, Doctor, I hardly think you ought to go to the house under the circumstances; but you see the family are very poor. I and other neighbors have done all we can to help them; but we are poor ourselves

and I thought you ought to know about it.”

The Domine’s hand goes to his pocket at once. “I shall be very glad to help them to any comfort that they need. Here are ten dollars for them, and you will please let me know how they are getting on.”

“Oh! thank you, Doctor; I’m sure you’re very kind, and the money will do them a heap of good, and I’ll be sure to let you know how the children are to-morrow.”

And the kind neighbor goes off with the Doctor’s ten dollars, and how many more he manages to pick up by playing on the sympathies of other pastors with the same story, we do not know. But we do know that the above game was played on one of the most excellent pastors of this city, who narrated his experience to a circle of his brethren soon after, and found that another minister had been called on by the same individual, with the same story, though without the same success.

Not long since, the writer was summoned to his parlor near the close of the day. There sat a young woman decently dressed, modest in appearance, and with thin, pale face bearing the marks of recent illness. She rose at my entrance, and with a very prepossessing manner told her story:

“I am sorry to intrude upon you, Doctor ——, but I am in great trouble, and know not where to look for aid. I am the daughter of poor parents, who live in Illinois. I came to this city with a lady who lives in California, to go home with her as a seamstress in her family. I was taken very ill on our arrival, and the lady was obliged to sail without me. When I recovered, I was not able to return to my parents, and I obtained work in Stewart’s cloak department, where I have earned seven dollars a week for the last six months. A month ago, I was taken sick again, and have exhausted all my means, and am not able to pay my board, and my landlady threatens to turn me out of the house. If I can get the means to pay her for two weeks, I think I shall be able to work by that time and take care of myself. But I have not a friend in this city, and I have taken the liberty to come to you with my story.”

Modestly told—with a perfectly simple, natural air—confirmed by her pale cheeks, and everything about her narrative calculated to impress even an experienced city pastor favorably. I think most of us would have yielded to such a petitioner. I was on the point of giving her what she needed, when I thought I would examine the case in person.

“What is your name?”

“Mary Thomas, sir.”

“Where do you board?”

“At 116 West Nineteenth street, sir.”

No hesitation, no evasion, prompt, straight-forward, honest. It seemed as if her story must be true. I took my card from my pocket, and gave it to her, saying, “Take that to your landlady, and tell her that I will call and see her in the morning, and if your story is true, I will give you what you need.”

“Oh! thank you, sir, thank you,” and off Mary Thomas went, with a grateful smile on her pale face, leaving in spite of all my experience, a most favorable impression behind her.

Next morning, directly after breakfast, I posted down to West Nineteenth street. On inquiring at the house to which I had been directed, for Mary Thomas,

“No such person here, sir,” was the instant reply.

I described her appearance. I went to other boarding and tenement-houses in the block, but no trace could I find of my interesting Mary Thomas. Determined not to give it up so, I went down to Stewart’s. My friend, Mr. Brown, the gentlemanly employé, gave me his usual courteous greeting. I stated the case to him, and begged him to facilitate my inquiries in the “cloak department.” We mounted to that part of the great establishment, and prosecuted the search for Mary Thomas. The list of employees was examined, the manager questioned, but no such name was found on the one, or known to the other. Finally, having spent about two hours of the best part of my day in this fruitless manner, I wended my way back to my study, where I ought to have been for those two hours hard at work on my sermon for Sunday, firmly convinced that my interesting “Mary Thomas” was a stupendous fraud.

Well, what do you think of another case? A well-dressed, gentlemanly young man calls on Saturday, and with much apparent honesty, thus delivers himself:

“Dr. ——, I should not have called upon you, had I not heard my pastor, Mr. Barnes, of Philadelphia, speak of you. I am a member of his church, have been absent two weeks on a journey, and am just short of enough money to pay my fare home, and the peculiarity of my position is, that I am a teacher in Mr. Barnes’ Sunday-school, and to-morrow is our anniversary and festival, and I wouldn’t miss being with my class on that occasion for anything. So I thought I would ask you to lend me three dollars to pay my fare. Of course I will send it back to you immediately.”

Of course I did not lend him the money, but other and younger brethren did, and never heard anything more from the excellent member and Sunday-school teacher of Mr. Barnes’ church.

Of such cases, the name is legion, for they are many. They consume our time, they betray our Christian sympathies, they vex us with their plausible and persistent falsehoods; and the only possible service that they do us, is to ground us more deeply in that fundamental article of our Calvinistic standard, the total depravity of man, and of woman also!—Christian Intelligencer.

THE REMNENT CHURCH.

By Olive R. Dolton

We've 'listed in the holy war to fight for Christ our King, Who died for us on Calvary, that we might with him reign. The signs he gave are all fulfilled, his coming now is near; We're fighting for a starry crown; our foes we will not fear.

The nations angry have become, their hearts are all on fire; The dragon is mustering all his hosts, his soul is filled with ire. The last great struggle draweth near, the saints will soon be sealed; Then with our Captain's armor on, we'll march into the field.

We soon must meet the frowning foe; they are a war-like band. We'll break their ranks, destroy their hosts, God's weapons in our hand. We're fighting in our Captain's name; he's conquered death and hell. We'll never yield or leave the field, till we the foe have quelled.

The glory of the latter days begins to usher in; The stone that strikes the image's feet, destroys the man of sin. This is the last great solemn call that ever will be given. The work above will soon be done; are we prepared for Heaven?

Our path grows bright with glorious light, and angels are our guide; And though the raging billows roll, we will the storm outride. We need not fear the dragon's power, for Jesus soon will come. Our little bark will never sink, while he stands at the helm.

The earth made new and sin destroyed, and Eden come again, The tree of life with “golden fruit” will ever there remain. No chilling winds or blasting frost can ever enter there, The curse of sin has passed away; the saints have naught to fear.

With dazzling crowns upon our brow, we'll walk the streets of gold, And in the New Jerusalem, the Saviour's face behold. The blood-washed throng will join and sing, “Hosannah to the Lamb.” The promises are all fulfilled, God made to Abraham.

OLIVE R. DOLTON.

Point Lookout, Md.

Our Father.

By W. B. Kinney

“Our Father!” Sweet, precious words; faith’s expression. It is not indigenous to the human heart; it is an exotic. It comes to the Christian from Heaven. Christ transplants it from the fields above, and puts it into the trustful soul of the “stranger and pilgrim,” whose feet are in the way toward the kingdom not yet enjoyed. It is a gift to all those who submit to the Holy Spirit and “learn of him who is meek and lowly.” It has not any place in the “mind at enmity against God.” It is a choice treasure of Heaven not intrusted to the world; but it is in possession of those who are not of the world. How like an aperture it seems, through which are seen wonderful sights and heard heavenly strains. As we continue to look, we discover an ever widening field, whose beauty reveals beauty, and glory unveils glory, the throne of the God of love, mercy, and grace.

“Our Father!” Jesus, the Redeemer of men, the Mediator between God and man, the expected King of kings and Lord of lords.

“Maker of all things, everlasting God, He opens Eden’s gate,— Monarch of ages!”

We see a company of saints, which no man can number, coming from every clime, receiving from the hand of the Deliverer palms and crowns, indicative of everlasting victory; an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away. As we stop to listen, giving all attention, we hear the swelling music of harpers before the throne, about the saints; but sweeter and louder than this is the song of the countless multitudes of the saved, the justified followers of David’s greater Son. Faith sees it all, through that gift brought by the precious blood of Christ.

“Our Father!” Truly, these two words were originated in Heaven; they arose not from the earth. They are an invaluable treasure to the Christian; for they open the door to glory, immortality, and eternal peace with God.

Children are alone able to say, “Our Father.” Jesus came to redeem them that were under the law, that they might receive the adoption of sons; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ. “And if ye be Christ’s, then are ye Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.”

Are we able to say, “Our Father”? If so, we may be filled with the largest hope, for Jesus said of such, “It is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”—W. B. Kinney.

Continue reading: The Coming of Christ: Matthew 24 and the First Century