Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 1, 1877
Achan's Treasure.
“I thought we should hear from you to-day,” said Mr. Spencer to Deacon Brownlow, as they walked home from the prayer-meeting together.
The church at Middle Corners had for some time been in an unsatisfactory state. There were very few new members taken in, a good many had moved away, and of those who remained very few seemed willing to take any active part in church work. The prayer-meeting rested on the shoulders of two or three, the Sunday-school on two or three more. The Missionary and other collections amounted to little or nothing, and it was hard to raise money even for the pastor’s salary and other necessary expenses.
But of late there had been a change. The week-day evening prayer-meetings began to be better attended by the members of the church, and some outsiders dropped in. People who had never been heard from before began to open their mouths, sometimes with a few words of exhortation or confession, sometimes with a verse of a hymn or text of Scripture or perhaps only a request for prayer. The female prayer-meeting was revived again. On Sunday the pastor was not obliged to strain every nerve to keep the attention of the people, and then be mortified by wandering or closed eyes. No great results had yet appeared, but there was a change like that we perceive when days grow long in March. The weather may seem as cold as ever, but as we say, “There is a spring feeling in the air.”
It was the Friday before communion Sunday, and Mr. Spencer had been strengthened and comforted by the course things had taken at the preparatory service which was always held on Friday afternoon. The lecture-room was uncomfortably crowded, but nobody complained. Hardly a church-member was absent. Mr. Spencer, according to his usual custom, delivered a short discourse, and then invited others to speak, and so many had availed themselves of the opportunity that it was nearly dark before the meeting broke up.
Deacon Brownlow alone, of all the officers and elders of the congregation, had not been heard from. He had sat out the meeting in silence, his eyes fixed on the walls or shaded with his hands. He had even seemed impatient as one rose after another, and looked at the door as if in a hurry to get away. Nevertheless he had lingered a little and joined Mr. Spencer in his walk homeward, but he seemed to have nothing to say till Mr. Spencer gently repeated his remark,—
“I hoped we should hear from you this afternoon. A better time seems to be coming for us, but we must all be ready to co-operate with the gracious influence, and we looked to you especially as being our oldest acting deacon.”
“I know, I know,” said Deacon Brownlow hurriedly; “I suppose I ought to have spoken, but the fact is, Mr. Spencer, I don’t know what ails me. I seem to have no spiritual life at all. My prayers are lifeless and my praises mere words. My heart will not rise, do what I will.”
“That is very sad,” said Mr. Spencer gravely. “What do you think is the reason?”
“The reason?” repeated Deacon Brownlow in a tone of some surprise.
“Yes, the reason. There must be a cause for such a state of things; and certainly it is very desirable to find and remove it. No Christian should sit down contented for a single day with such a spiritual condition as you describe, no, not for an hour.”
“Suppose he can’t help it?” said the deacon rather shortly.
“He has no right to conclude that he can’t help it till he has tried.”
“Well, I think one’s feelings depend a good deal on one’s state of health, don’t you?”
“Sometimes, no doubt, but I think that same state of health gets loaded with more than its fair burden. But that matter is easily settled. Tell me honestly, Bro. Brownlow, do you feel this same coldness and indifference regarding worldly affairs? The sale of your wheat now, don’t you care anything about that?”
“Of course I do, but—”
“But if your coldness and indifference were the result of ill-health, would it not apply to the wheat as much as the prayers?”
The deacon was silent.
“My brother,” said the pastor, stopping short and laying his hand on the deacon’s arm, “are you sure there is nothing worse in the way than a state of health? Is there not some Achan’s treasure, some goodly Babylonian garment hidden under the floor of the tent? Think it over and see if there is not some unrepented sin, some unjust gain perhaps—”
But here the conversation received a singular interruption. They had stopped in front of a little gambrel-roofed red house, separated from the road by a board fence and a row of tall lilacs. A voice spoke from behind the bushes in sharp, distinct, though rather tremulous accents:—
“Maybe it’s the twenty-five dollars you didn’t pay for them colts, deacon!”
“Heyday! what’s that?” said the pastor. “Come out and show yourself, friend, and don’t shout from behind the bushes in that way.”
“It’s old Ma’am Rodgers,” said the deacon confusedly. “You’d better not let her get hold of you. She’ll keep you all night.”
“Oh, no, I sha’n’t,” said the old lady, appearing at the gate. “It wont take long to tell the story, Parson Spencer. Just before Mr. Rodgers died he sold a pair of colts to the deacon. The price was to be a hundred and twenty-five dollars, and they both made a note of the bargain. Well, that was only a week before Rodgers was taken with the fit he died of. But when I came to talk to the deacon, he stuck to it that the price was only a hundred dollars, and showed a receipt for a hundred, he said the old man had signed.”
“So he did up at Stone’s store, and I paid him the money.”
“I know that just as well as you. He gave me the hundred when he came home; that is, he had sense enough left to do that. When I asked him about it next day he said the deacon had paid it to him on account. But when I spoke to the deacon he declared that was all he agreed to pay. I couldn’t find the note for some time, but I did at last, and it says a hundred and twenty-five; and I guess it’s the old twenty-five that sticks in the deacon’s throat and keeps him from talking in meeting.” And with a cackling laugh the old woman went into the house and shut the door.
“I declare!” said the deacon; “I do really think Mrs. Rodgers ought to be disciplined for her tongue.”
“Did you really agree to pay a hundred and twenty-five?”
“I don’t think I did,” answered the deacon. “I—I mislaid my note-book, and—”
“Bro. Brownlow,” said the pastor gravely and sadly, “I am afraid this is the Babylonian garment! Look into it and see. Good night.”
Deacon Brownlow was left to take his way home alone, which he did with very uncomfortable feelings. He was afraid Mr. Spencer was not the man for them. He was afraid he was a legalist, since he set such a value on good works. As for that old woman, he’d have her up before the church—yes, and before the court too!
The deacon found Mr. York the tavern-keeper waiting to pay him some money, a circumstance which usually put him in a good humor, but somehow it failed this time. It was the same with the survey of the premises. All was in apple-pie order, farming tools under cover, cattle housed, sheep provided for, pigs fed. There was not a better farmer in the country than Deacon Brownlow. Asa, the hired man, was just leading the colts to water.
“Beauties, ain’t they?” said Asa. “How they grow.”
“There wont be a better pair of three-year-olds at the fair next fall,” said the deacon. “York’s don’t compare with them.”
“You got the best of the bargain that time, didn’t you?” said Asa. “Gave a hundred and twenty-five to old Rodgers, didn’t you? The old man must have been half drunk to let ’em go at that.”
“I only paid a hundred,” said the deacon, but he turned away. His pleasure in the horses was gone.
“Didn’t we have a precious meeting, pa?” said Miss Dolly Brownlow at supper. “I was telling grandma I wished for her all the time. I do believe we are going to have a real awakening.”
“I don’t!” answered the deacon shortly. “Spencer isn’t the man. He thinks too much of good works. What we want is a spiritual preacher.”
“I thought Mr. Spencer was very spiritual.”
“Of course, all the women do,” answered the deacon with a sneer. “He’s so handsome!”
Miss Dolly was silenced, but presently began on a new subject.
“The ladies of the church stopped after meeting, to see what they would do for old Mrs. Rodgers. I’m afraid the old lady has pretty hard times. Mr. Brown is going to draw her a load of wood, and several others have promised things. I thought I might agree to let her have that little crock of butter.”
Miss Dolly spoke rather timidly, as if she feared a rebuff. She got it.
“Then you may disagree again, you wont do no such a thing. It’s all nonsense, and a regular imposition. Let her go to the poorhouse. It’s good enough for her.”
“You wouldn’t like to have anybody say that of grandma!” said Miss Dolly with unwonted boldness. “Mrs. Rodgers has been a consistent church-member for fifty years, and I think it’s a pity if the church can’t take care of her now.”
“Well, you ain’t going to give her any crocks of butter out of this house,” said the deacon tartly. “York will take every pound we make, at thirty cents straight through. I’ll be bound he don’t give it away.”
“He sent the old lady a ham and a pound of tea, only last week, and he isn’t a church-member either.”
“Jedidiah, my son,” said the old lady, who had not spoken hitherto, “Jedidiah, I’m afraid you’re sitting too close to the world.”
The deacon felt the rare reproof. He said no more till supper was over. Somehow, the family had lately dropped the custom of evening prayer. The deacon, muttering something about business, betook himself to his room taking his newspaper with him. He read it through from end to end, but found it very stupid. Then he counted over the money he had just received from York, and locked it up in his desk. Then he tried to calculate the interest on a note, but he could not make it come twice alike, and he wrote “twenty-five” when he meant “fifty,” three times over.
He pushed it away with an angry exclamation, and opened his Bible, for he had not dropped his old custom of reading a chapter every night. Latterly he had taken to searching for promises, but he had not found any which seemed to apply to his case. Now he opened the book at random and read: “Behold the Lord’s hand is not shortened that it cannot save, neither his ear heavy that it cannot hear. But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you that he will not hear.”
He threw down the book with an angry—yes, with an oath.
The deacon stopped appalled at the sound of his own voice. When had such a word passed his lips? and against whom or what had he uttered it?
With a bound his mind went back to that evening forty long years before, when in the same church meeting, he and Dolly Wilson stood up and asked for the prayers of the faithful. They had walked home together, and then he had solemnly promised to God, to his betrothed and himself, that he would never use another oath. And he had kept his promise hitherto. He had never transgressed it till this evening, when he had cursed, WHAT?
It was as if a flash of lurid lightning had showed him how far he was wandering from the right way, and displayed the precipice over which he was suspending.
The deacon fell down on his knees, on his face, and with broken words and bitter tears, bewailed his own sinfulness, and begged for grace and forgiveness. He did not know how long he had been there when somebody knocked softly at the door. He rose and opened it. There stood Miss Dolly in her wrapper.
“Are you sick, pa? I thought I heard you groan.”
“No, dear,” answered the deacon gently, “I was out of sorts a good deal, but I’m better now: there, don’t stay up in the cold, my daughter. Go to bed and pray for your poor old father.”
Miss Dolly closed the door and retired, and the deacon went to his desk. He did not have to search for what he wanted, but put his hand on it the first thing. It was an old diary two or three years old. The34deacon opened to the right place directly, and found the note he wanted, though he had told himself a dozen times that he did not know where to lay his hands on it. Then he sat down and calculated the interest, compound interest, on twenty-five dollars for three years. He had no trouble in bringing it out right this time. Then he took out a clean fifty-dollar greenback from the roll Mr. York had given him, and laid it in his pocket-book, and after another season of prayer he went to bed.
The next morning he went out to the barn, before breakfast as usual.
“Asa, I want you to get out the little wagon, and load up a barrel of them Spitzenbergs and a side of the pork we killed yesterday, and if there are any beef-steaks left, you may put in a couple of them too.”
“Into the wagon?” asked Asa, staring.
“Of course. You wouldn’t put ’em into the horse, would you?”
Asa stared again. A joke was rare with the deacon now-a-days.
“What shall I do with the things?”
“Leave ’em in the wagon, I’ll see to ’em.”
“About that crock of butter, Dolly—it was the smallest I think you said,” remarked the deacon at breakfast.
“Yes, father,” answered Dolly; “there are three two-gallon crocks, and one three, and the little brown one, which holds about three pounds.”
“I guess we’ll take the two-gallon crock, Dolly, that’ll last the old lady all winter. I’m going up to pay her some money I owe her, and I’ll take it along—and, Dolly, perhaps you’d better look out a pair of blankets, or a comforter, or something. I don’t believe the old house is any too warm these cold nights.”
That night at meeting, the deacon’s mouth was opened and his tongue loosed, and he spake and praised God.
Are you suffering under a sense of spiritual desertion and dryness? Are your prayers lifeless and your works heartless, and your soul like the heath in the desert? Don’t be in a hurry to impute it to your “state of health.” Don’t lay it to any arbitrary hiding of God’s face. Search your heart and conscience. Look, as the deacon did, among your accounts and business papers, and see if there is not with you, even with you, buried very deep perhaps, some Achan’s treasure, some goodly Babylonish garment. Look honestly and prayerfully, and ten to one you will find it. The smallest cherished or indulged sin is enough to spoil your comfort in the best meeting that ever was held.—Illustrated Christian Weekly.
BETHESDA
O HEALING waters, clear and cool,
Fringing the temple’s hem!
Thronged waters of Bethesda’s pool,
In far Jerusalem!
O house of mercy and of truce
To sad-eyed suffering!
Oh! sweeter far than Hermon’s dews,
Fair fountain of the King!
Thou wert a precious gift of God,
Where, ’neath the holy hill,
Thy stream, by angel footsteps trod,
Went softly, slow, and still.
But angel fingers smote thy face,
And stirred thy tranquil wave,
To fit thee for God’s dwelling place
And give thee power to save.
So in our consecrated life,
We are not healed through peace;
Our crown of resting comes through strife,
Through bondage, our release.
’Tis not the unveiled winds o’erhead,
Nor flame-winged fires below;
No jar of elemental tread
Breaks up our fountain’s flow.
The pain, the stroke, in mercy given,
Are angels’ ministerings;
Our lives are shadowed o’er by Heaven,
And fanned with yearning wings.
O love divine! how sweet and clear
Dark waters are to faith!
God’s image is in every tear,
He hides in every breath!
—Christian Weekly.
THE BOOK OF REVELATION.
By S. B. Whitney
ATTEMPTS are sometimes made to invalidate the claims of this book to confidence by reflecting disparagingly upon its character and questioning its genuineness. The following extracts from the History of the Books of the Bible, by Prof. Stowe, may be of interest to the reader:—
“The testimony of the early and contemporary witnesses is unanimous and uncontradicted in favor of the book. Though well known and extensively used in the churches, not a breath of suspicion was ever blown upon its reputation, until nearly one hundred and fifty years after the death of the apostle to whom it is ascribed; and then not confidently, but doubtingly; not any critical grounds alleged or pretended, but solely on account of the supposed difficulty of its interpretation, the bad use which had been made of it, and a dislike to the doctrines which it was imagined to contain.”
After stating that its genuineness was first questioned in connection with a controversy that arose in the third century, he speaks of Dionysius of Alexandria, who was engaged in that controversy, thus:—
“This was the first open attack ever made on the genuineness of the Apocalypse; and it is plain from the above extracts that Dionysius could sustain himself by no respectable authority, otherwise he would have produced it. It is also plain that he had no historical ground for his conjectures and suggestions, but that the testimony was all against him; that he was not himself at all confident in his own opinion; and that his wish to get rid of the authority of this book arose entirely from his apprehension of its obscurity, and its influence on the millennium controversy.” He attributes the “same anxiety” to others engaged in that controversy, and then adds, “And all who have rejected the book have been induced to reject it, not on historical testimony against it, or the want of such testimony in its favor, but simply on doctrinal grounds.”
The utter fallacy of this position is apparent when we consider that if one part of the Bible is rejected on such grounds another may be, and so on until it is all thrown out.
From his considerations of the objections raised against the book we take the following, as having a bearing not only on the point in question, but also on the chronology of the book, as it relates to John’s use of the term Lord’s day, &c.:—
“It is objected that the Greek of the Apocalypse is much less pure and more largely tinctured with Hebrew idioms than that of the gospels or epistles. This is true, and for the best of reasons. The Apocalypse was written earlier than the Gospels or Epistles, and before the writer had become so familiar with the Greek language as he was afterwards.” Our author closes his argument on this point with the following forcible words: “But the great, and in fact, the only objection against the Revelation which has had any real importance, has always been that which was at first stated by Dionysius; namely, that it was very obscure, without sense and reason, as Dionysius says, exceedingly difficult to be interpreted; and the great store-house from which heretics and fanatics have drawn their materials to trouble the church with.
“The want of sense and reason belongs to the interpreters and not to the book. Obscurity, to a certain extent, is an attribute of all prophecy, and heretics and fanatics always lay hold on the most highly figurative language, because this is the most easily perverted. Even allowing the objection to be just as it is stated, it has but little to do with the question of authorship, which is a question of fact, to be settled by the appropriate evidence; and no one has ever shown, or done anything towards showing, that there is anything in the Revelation so repugnant to the known character of John, that he cannot reasonably be supposed to be the author of it.
“A writer is not accountable for the stupidity of his commentators, nor for the ignorance or willful abuse which weak men and bad men may make of his writings. I hope it will be seen that the darkness, the absurdities, the mysticism and fanaticism, which have been attributed to the Apocalypse, no more belong to it than dinginess belongs to the clear blue sky when it happens to be observed through a dingy glass.”
S. B. WHITNEY.
Character of Masonry: Preparation for Initiation
By S. A. Gilley
CHARACTER OF MASONRY.—NO. 4.
When a man wishes to become a Mason, he presents his petition to the Lodge; and if upon ballot no black balls are cast, he is received as a candidate into the preparation room. Here among other questions he is asked, “Do you sincerely declare upon your honor that you will cheerfully conform to all the ancient established usages and customs of the fraternity?” He is expected to reply, “I do.” Here, as at the first step, we see its evil nature. A Christian man has no right to promise obedience to “usages and customs” of which he is in ignorance. Should he hereafter see them to be wrong, he must either break his promise, or else, Herod-like, commit greater sin by keeping it.
Passing on, we shall only notice such portions of the rites, ceremonies, &c., as have a direct bearing upon the anti-christian character of the institution; if any wish for a full revelation, a postal card sent to 13 Wabash avenue, Chicago, Ill., will secure them a list of various works, both Masonic and antimasonic.
After all the questions are properly answered, the candidate is prepared for initiation by being divested of all his clothes except his shirt, when a pair of old drawers are handed him, and he is assisted to put them on, rolling up the left drawer leg above the knee; his left foot is bare, his right put into an old slipper; his left breast and arm are then made naked, either by withdrawing his arm from the sleeve and putting it through the bosom, or by opening and turning back the bosom, and rolling up the sleeve; he is then blindfolded, and a rope called a “cable-tow” is put around his neck and left arm. He is now said to be “duly and truly prepared.”
Is this vulgar display of the person consistent with Christianity? What if all who are present are men, and most of them acquaintances? Is it not, for all this, indecent? What Christian (or any other) man would consent to such a display on the part of his wife, before a score or more of other ladies?
But we follow him as he is admitted (led like an ox to the slaughter) to the Lodge room, being received on the point of a compass pressing his naked left breast. He is led to the center, and kneels at an altar, where a prayer is made for him by the second deacon. Think of him there! He may be a minister(?) of the gospel, while he who prays for him perchance is the veriest “blackleg” out of jail! Think of him, denuded, haltered, blinded, kneeling there to hear a prayer said over him in which no reference to Christ is made, surrounded by those whom his Bible teaches him can never enter Heaven. Have you longer confidence in him?
The “poor blind candidate” is now led three times around the Lodge room “from west to east, in search of light;” after which, kneeling at the altar, his left hand under the Bible on which lie the square and compass, his right hand on the top of them, he takes the following “oath or obligation” of an “ENTERED APPRENTICE MASON.” We give the oath in full, substantially as given in every Lodge in the United States at the present time.
“I, — — —, of my own free will and accord, in presence of Almighty God and this worshipful Lodge of Free and Accepted Masons, dedicated to God and held forth to the holy order of St. John, do hereby and hereon most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear, that I will always hail, ever conceal, and never reveal, any part or parts, art or arts, point or points, of the secrets, arts, and mysteries, of ancient Free Masonry, which I have received, am about to receive, or may hereafter be instructed in, to any person or persons in the known world, except it be a true and lawful brother Mason, or within the body of a just and lawfully constituted Lodge of such, and not unto him nor unto them whom I shall hear so to be, but unto him and them only whom I shall find so to be after strict trial and due examination or lawful information. Furthermore do I promise and swear, that I will not write, print, stamp, stain, hew, cut, carve, indent, paint, or engrave it on anything, movable or immovable, under the whole canopy of heaven, whereby or whereon the least letter, figure, character, mark, stain, shadow, or resemblance of the same, may become legible or intelligible to myself or any other person in the known world, whereby the secrets of Masonry may be unlawfully obtained through my unworthiness. To all which I do most solemnly and sincerely promise and swear, without the least equivocation, mental reservation, or self-evasion of mind, in me whatever; binding myself under no less penalty than to have my throat cut across, my tongue torn out by the roots, and my body buried in the rough sands of the sea at low water mark, where the tide ebbs and flows twice in twenty-four hours; so help me God, and keep me steadfast in the due performance of the same.”
Notice the anti-christian nature of this oath. 1. Said to be dedicated to God, but still the Lodge will not allow the name of Christ to be used. 2. Candidate swears to “ever conceal” that of which he has as yet no knowledge, and so does not know but that it should be revealed. 3. What right has a Christian to invoke upon himself such a penalty? Confessing that his body has been purchased by Christ for a “temple of the Holy Ghost,” what right has he to place it under such imprecations?
Here we will leave the first degree, and “pass” to the second, that of the FELLOW CRAFT. We will not wait for the disrobing process, but call attention to two or three items in the oath, and also to the penalty.
In addition to former obligations, he now swears “that I will not knowingly wrong this Lodge, nor a brother of this degree, to the value of two cents, myself, nor suffer it to be done by others if in my power to prevent it; . . . that I will obey all regular signs and summonses given, handed, sent, or thrown to me, by the hand of a brother Fellow Craft Mason or from the body of a just and lawfully constituted Lodge of such; provided it be within the length of my cable-tow, or a square and angle of my work [called three miles], under no less penalty than to have my left breast torn open, my heart and vitals taken thence, thrown over my left shoulder, and carried to the valley of Jehosaphat, there to become a prey to the wild beasts of the field and vultures of the air.”
Of this oath consider, first, the promise not to cheat a brother, &c. If a man whose neighbor raised both citrons and melons, should repeatedly say to his boys, “You must not take neighbor A’s citrons,” would they not soon come to believe that he was willing they should take the melons? Or if two of his neighbors raised melons, would not a charge not to steal from one, seem to imply permission to steal from the other? So with Masonry; by constantly ringing the changes on “do not wrong your brother,” she teaches the implied permission to do wrong to all others. Secondly, the promise “to obey,” &c. If a brother under arrest for crime hands, sends, throws, the sign of distress, an appeal for help, his brethren are under oath to deliver and help him; this is often done, and so justice is robbed of its power. Thirdly, the barbarous penalty.
But let us hasten on to review the oath taken in the third or MASTER MASON’S degree. Naked to the waist, legs bare to above the knees, hoodwinked, and with cable-tow three times about his body, he kneels at the altar, where we will leave him till next week.
S. A. GILLEY.
CHRIST'S KINGDOM.
By N. W. Vincent
LITTLE did the Jews realize what a king they had in their midst. He was among them as one that ministered, in the form of a servant, poor, often suffering hunger, thirst, and weariness. Little did those who pressed into his head the platted thorns imagine the beauty of that crown which our King of Glory is soon to wear. His kingdom was not of this world, and the princes of earth set him at naught. They crucified the King of kings and Lord of lords.
The time approaches when Christ is to deliver up to the Father his universal and mediatorial reign, and receive of him dominion and glory and his promised everlasting kingdom. 1 Cor. 15:24; Dan. 7:3514. Then will he come to gather the subjects of his kingdom. Reader, will you be one of them? Yes, if you overcome, if you esteem reproach for him a treasure, and walk in his steps; for he always did those things which pleased God. Though hated by the world, be of good cheer; your crown is certain. You will make one of their number who shall take the kingdom. Oh, what a joy is set before the humblest saint! Brethren, let us be faithful. N. W. VINCENT.
THE WORD OF GOD PLAINLY FULFILLED IN REGARD TO THE PAPACY.
By Wm. Penniman
We read in 2 Thess. 3:4, that the “man of sin shall be revealed, who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshiped, so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, showing himself that he is God.”
It can be shown that this man of sin has styled himself “Lord God, the Pope.” What a blasphemous title! This title proclaims his infallibility. A majority of Catholic divines in their last council also proclaimed it. Buck, in his Theological Dictionary, says, “Infallibility is evidently an attribute of the Supreme Being alone, which we have all the foundation imaginable to conclude he has not communicated to any mortal or association of mortals.”
The human being who challenges infallibility seems to imitate the pride and presumption of Lucifer, when he said, I will ascend, and will be like the Most High. A claim to it was unheard of in the primitive and purest ages of the church; but it became after that period the arrogant pretensions of papal ambition.
The following from the New York Weekly Witness, of Sept. 14, 1876, will show how nearly the text quoted is fulfilled by the papacy:—
“The following is a description of a picture which has been profusely circulated in Rome by the Jesuits, and which is doubtless, by this time, more or less scattered in other countries. Its object is to familiarize the people with the worship of the pope, which is gradually superseding the worship of the Virgin, as that superseded the worship of Jesus Christ. The picture is double, the upper part showing what is passing in Heaven, the lower part what is passing on earth. In the first, there is the figure of a venerable old man to represent the Eternal Father. On his right hand a little lower is the Virgin standing on the moon. On his left is St. Peter, kneeling on one knee and looking to the Virgin and not to God. In the scene on earth, Pius Ninth, wearing his triple crown, is seated on a pedestal, receiving on his head a ray of light which comes from a dove representing the Holy Spirit. The pope does not even turn his head toward the Almighty, but shows as the principal person of the whole picture. Around the pedestal are four men, symbolizing the four quarters of the globe, all kneeling to the pope, and none of them looking up to God.
“It will be remarked that the Lord Jesus does not come in anywhere in this symbolic representation of Roman Catholic worship, and that is just about the real state of the case. He is cast out of what professes to be his true and only church just as completely as he was cast out by the rulers of the Jewish church, when he came to his own, and his own received him not.”
Wm. Penniman.
WORK FOR GOD. WHAT CAN I DO?
By C. R. Austin
No doubt this is a question that many times arises in the hearts of the lovers of present truth, as they look forth upon the fields “white for the harvest,” and listen to the appeals for help that come in from every direction.
The work of God at the present time greatly needs earnest, faithful workers, those that are true missionaries. And in his providence, the Tract and Missionary Society has been formed, not to make missionaries, but to open the way so that those who are consecrated to God and his work can labor effectually in spreading the light of present truth.
How truthfully it has been said that “God has gone out before us,” preparing the way for the truth to follow! and he has made us debtors to our fellow-men to impart to them that precious truth, which he so graciously has brought to our knowledge.
Who among us are laboring as faithfully to discharge this debt as we should a debt of dollars and cents due a fellow-being, especially if that one gave us the privilege to work out our indebtedness? With most of us, the early morn and the darkened shades of night would witness our diligence, and we should watch for the spare moments that could be improved in increasing the amount of labor finished and decreasing the debt.
No human being can ever lay us under so great obligations as God has; and our first efforts, our best energies, should be in his service. A life filled up with watching, working, and praying, will not only smooth the rough points in our own character, develop the Christian graces in maturity, keep our feet in the straight and narrow way, so that at last they shall stand on the Mt. Zion, but it will fill our souls with love for others, for whom Christ died, and we shall reach out after them by every available means. There are none but that may be faithful laborers in this great work. None but that exert an influence for the truth or against it.
If we cannot preach to others, we can pray for them; and the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. If we cannot write, we can talk, and what a power there is in a word fitly spoken! It is like apples of gold in pictures of silver. And if we have not command of language to convey our ideas of truth to others in an interesting manner, we can bring a strong influence in favor of truth to bear with weight upon those around us, by a well-ordered life.
If we really believe the end of all things is at hand, and that the last message of mercy is now spreading among the nations of the earth, our daily life will show that belief by the efforts we make to overcome every wrong in ourselves, and to lay up treasure in Heaven, and by doing all we can to spread the light of present truth. There are so many ways now in which the light of truth can be spread that every lover of it will find work to do; and ere many years their round have run, a well-organized band of faithful laborers will be swelling the last note of warning into the loud cry of the third angel.
Every member of that band will find in the records of the Judgment a full report of labor, and will hear the “well done” from a voice that shall fill his soul with joy and everlasting satisfaction. The inquiry, What can I do? should be exchanged now (while holding up willing hands with ready hearts) for the petition to the God of peace to make us perfect in every good work, to do his will, working in us that which is well pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ. C. R. AUSTIN.
Berkshire, Vt.
SOUND AN ALARM.
By M. Wood
Our divine Lord has said, “Search the Scriptures, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are they which testify of me.” John 5:39. In obeying this holy command, what do we find in this Book of books? In 1 Tim. 4:1, we find recorded by the pen of inspiration the following words: “In the latter times some shall depart from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils.”
Is it not even so at the present time? Do we not see this literally fulfilled upon every hand? We look around us and see those who made a start to serve God, and follow after the good Shepherd, wandering from the fold, going into forbidden paths, and becoming so far deluded by his Satanic majesty as to lose all love for the purifying and sanctifying truths of God. Desirous of earthly gain and popularity, they soon yield themselves up to Satan, and are led captive by him at his will, when they sink deep into sin, and will sink still deeper unless they turn at once, and do their first works.
Again, in Matt. 24:37, we find words used by the Saviour, of great significance to the people of God: “But as the days of Noe were, so shall also the coming of the Son of man be.” The antediluvians laughed at the faithful preaching of Noah; they rejected the warning, despised his counsel, and scoffed at the idea of a coming flood. We see the same spirit manifested to-day by the worldlings; yes, and by professed Christians. They laugh at our faith in Christ’s soon coming, to resurrect the sleeping saints and to change the living righteous. 1 Cor. 15:51, 52; 1 Thess. 4:11, 17.
Let the mockers mock on; it is but an additional evidence of Christ’s soon coming and a fulfillment of Jude 18. The apostle speaking upon this point says, “Knowing this first, that there shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own lusts, and saying, Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation.” 2 Peter 3:3, 4. Paul affirms that “when they shall say peace and safety; then sudden destruction cometh upon them, . . . and they shall not escape.” 1 Thess. 5:3.
Jesus is coming, he is coming “in flaming fire taking vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.” “And then shall that wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming.” 2 Thess. 2:8. And those who do not heed this warning, and seek God while he may be found, will soon be the recipients of the wrath of God poured out without any mixture of mercy.
God never sent judgments upon the world without first giving the inhabitants of the earth due warning. It was so with the cities of the plain; it has been so in every age of the world’s history, and it will continue to be so until the curse of sin is effectually wiped from off the face of the earth. God warned the Ninevites; they heeded the solemn proclamation of Jonah; they fasted and prayed, repented, and forsook their sins, and God spared their city.
But how different with Sodom! When Lot gave the people warning in his day to flee for their lives from the doomed city, they heeded not the warning. “The same day that Lot went out of Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven, and destroyed them all. Even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.” Luke 17:29, 30.
As we proceed in our researches after truth, we find that Daniel was to seal up the book even to the time of the end. We have crossed the threshold of this time spoken of by Daniel, and but few of the prophecies remain to be fulfilled before Michael shall stand up, and every one whose name is written in the book shall be delivered. Dan. 12:1. The end is near, and as the hour of probation is closing up, God in his merciful providence has prepared a people to sound forth the most solemn and impressive warning ever given to the human family.
Open your Bible please; and read Rev. 14:9–12, and hasten to obey God, keep his commandments, and flee from the wrath to come. The watchmen upon the walls of Zion are proclaiming this solemn message. Reader, do you believe it? Will you heed it, and turn your feet unto the testimonies of the Lord? Be not deceived in this cry of peace and safety. It is the work of the devil. And while the church and the world go hand in hand singing this delusive song of peace and safety and a good time coming, the people of God are being sealed against the day of trouble which is drawing on with fearful rapidity. Says the prophet, “The great day of the Lord is near, and hasteth greatly.” Zeph. 1:14. The 18th verse closes up with the solemn announcement that he (God) shall make a speedy riddance of all them that dwell in the land.
The church is taught to be prepared, waiting, watching, for their coming Lord, clad with the white robes and the wedding garments. Rev. 19:8. Such ones will go in to the marriage, and then the door will be shut. Matt. 25:10. Reader, is the coming of the Lord a welcome sound to you? Is it a pleasing theme of conversation? Are you watching? If not, why not? Christians ought always to be watching, for we know not when the time is. The Master may come at even, at midnight, or in the morning. Watch, “lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping.” Mark 13:36.