Earlier text: THE POWER BEHIND GOD'S PROMISESSHIRKS are mean. Tried by that canon, meanness is a prevalent vice. Religious laziness is one of the first fruits of the fall, and one of the last that regeneration cures. "Let Susan do it," says Jane in the kitchen. "Let George do it," says Tom in the barnyard. "Let the rich members do it," say the men of moderate means. "Let the deacons do it," say the low privates in the church. "Let the women do it," say all we laggard men when we want petitions circulated for reform. "Let the preacher do it," say a hundred laymen who are proud of their ability everywhere else but in the house of God. We are blossoming into committees and orders in the church. Rome will have to put on spurs to keep out of our way. There is room and work for them all. I wish we could have an order of deacons in the scriptural sense. But the fear is that many of us will try to serve the Lord by proxy. Our consciences are pliant in that direction. If there are special agents to do special work beyond our reach, let them do it; but the deaconesses and city missionaries can do no more than their own work. A thousand of them cannot do your duty, or mine, or that of the humblest member of our Christian communion. They cannot visit the poor, or relieve the distressed, or comfort the sorrowing, or minister to the sick, for me or you, in such a sense as to leave us to our idleness or our pleasures. No; the Book keeps personal account, and when it is opened in the great day, it will not contemplate the mass, but the man; not the order of deaconesses, but the individual woman in the order, the home, the shop, the street. To try the proxy plan is to starve our own souls, lose fellowship with Him who went about doing good, stagnate the spirit, and die of inanition. The responsibility is personal up to the measure of our opportunity. "Somebody else will?" No; somebody else can't. Gabriel cannot do the duty of any man or woman of the race. An angel can do his work, not mine. We shall do well, in this time of multiplied and valuable agencies, to be severely watchful against the shirking temper of our poor humanity. "Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these" cannot be put aside by the plea that someone else did it. What a world we could make of this, by God's all-helpful grace, if all the professed friends of the pitying Helper were aflame with personal zeal! "All at it and always at it" carries a spirit which would set the world on fire. "What wilt thou have me to do?" was the cry that came from the pierced heart of Saul of Tarsus when that strange light shined the darkness out of his soul. And the voice from the supernal brightness—"dark with insufferable light"—hurled no accusation against high priest or Sanhedrin, but at the astonished messenger of religious rage: "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Saul could not hide behind "authority." What wilt thou have us to do? is conventional, and brings no answer. What wilt thou have me to do? reaches the throne.—Selected. CONFESSION OF FAULTS.
By S. S. Times
It is not at all unusual to find people who think themselves quite in the line of Christian duty, who seem to have no consciousness of the duty of confession. I have known a man whose grave breaches of trust had brought thousands to distress and want, speak of his offenses with entire complacency, because he believed that his Maker had forgiven him. To such people it seems quite enough that they confess to God, and ask his forgiveness. They expect man to "forgive and forget," without a word said, while to God they ascribe no such generosity. They think any resentment that is more than momentary shows an unchristian spirit, and that those who show it are shutting themselves out from forgiveness on the terms of the Lord's prayer. But those terms are, "Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." It is asking God to deal with us as we have dealt with our brethren in this matter of our sins. Do we expect God to forgive without our asking? In the parable which illustrates this petition, the offense of the servant was that he gave no heed to his fellow servant when he pleaded, "Have patience with me, and I will pay thee." Just the prayer he had made to his lord, his fellow servant made to him, and made in vain. If we expect God to forgive those who never own their sins, and never ask that he put them away by forgiveness, we have the right to expect the same of man. The social life and relations of Christians would be sweetened greatly by the practical recognition of this duty. Nothing puts two people on a better mutual footing than the frank confession of faults. It warms two hearts, while it disburdens one. Much unchristian coldness and indifference, and many serious disagreements in churches, would be obviated by our binding this duty upon us. Besides this, it would increase Christian watchfulness. A fit of bad temper, a needless sharpness in speech—such is the weakness of our human nature—would come to have a much more serious look of evil, when we knew we should have to own it, and ask that it be forgiven and forgotten. We would walk more circumspectly, and with sharper outlook for the little foxes which mar the vines of Christian fruitfulness. Nor is this the only benefit. Our sense of the reality and heartiness of God's forgiveness of us would be greatly heightened by our experience of the forgiving spirit in those who best reflect his love in their lives. It is human goodness, commonly, that helps us to understand God; and there is no aspect of his character which may be thus disclosed to us more practically than his long-suffering and forgiveness. THE Lapps have the Bible in their own tongue, and few stories are more interesting than the account of its translation. Over thirty years ago a series of religious riots took place in a number of villages in Lapland, and among the rioters was one Lars Haetta. "During the riots several homicides occurred, and Lars and some others of his companions were committed to prison on a charge of murder," relates the New York Home Journal. "They were found guilty and several were hanged, but in consideration of his youth, Haetta was condemned to lifelong imprisonment. Commiserating his condition, his keepers and the prison chaplain extended to him such favors as could safely be granted to a lifelong prisoner, and finding them rewarded by good conduct, took especial pains to teach him to read and write. "Lars became interested in the Bible, grew day by day more fond of reading it, and finally formed the bold project of translating it into his native tongue. Through many weary years the labor went on, for Lars was no great scholar, and the Lapp language, as may readily be supposed, is not a fluent literary medium of thought. "But finally the work was done, the Bible translated and printed in the language of Lapland, and the remainder of Haetta's sentence was commuted. He was living as late as 1870, and, though an old man, was still active and often served parties of travelers as guide."—Selected. BLAMING GOD FOR MISFORTUNES.
By United Presbyterian
How READY men are to trace their misfortunes to God, and to lay the blame on him. A little girl fell into a mud puddle which she had been forbidden to go near. It was a clear act of disobedience, but instead of frankly acknowledging it, she struggled out and said to her mother, who had run to her help, "Mamma, I don't believe God loves me, or he wouldn't let me fall into this ugly mud puddle." We are only children of a larger growth. We play the fool, and when we feel the consequences of our folly, we put on an air of injured innocence, and pose as martyrs. A pupil wastes his time and fails in examinations, and then accuses his teachers of partiality. There are mysteries in adverse providences, but not so many as we sometimes think. It is generally true that we fall into the pit that our own hands have digged. The Crisis of Decision
By United Presbyterian
THE crisis in one's life has come when he realizes that as a sinner he is ready to perish, that God is ready to save, that salvation, pardon, all things are ready, and that the only question is that of his readiness to take God at his word. At such a time one must either accept or reject; and how great are the issues that hang upon the decision! ON SAYING “NO.”
By Eleanor A. Hunter
“It is easy to mind Aunt Margaret,” I heard a little girl of twelve say not long ago. “She says ‘no’ just as pleasantly as she says ‘yes.’” Now the clear logic of a child often illuminates a dark subject, and it seemed to me that this little girl’s remark contained a truth which would bear thinking of. I began to observe the way in which those of my friends who have children say “no” to them. Here is one instance. A little boy of two was sitting in his high-chair at the table where his mother was making cake. He was an active child, and he had been sitting there some time, but he had been very quiet and good. There was a cut-glass tumbler within his reach and he took it. “No, no, Freddie,” cried his mother sharply. “Put that glass down this instant.” The baby glanced at his mother with a look of sudden defiance, and immediately dashed the glass onto the floor. “You naughty boy!” cried the mother, and, dropping her spoon, she spatted his hands severely, and turned his chair to the wall for further punishment, while she swept up the fragments of broken glass. “I never saw such a child,” said she in an exasperated way. “I never forbid him anything that he does not instantly disobey me if he can.” The poor baby was sobbing with mingled pain and rage, and my heart ached as I thought of all the years of fighting, anger, and bitterness which were before him. I thought how his nature would be warped and injured by such treatment, and I knew if he was not utterly ruined it would only be by the mercy of God. I watched other mothers to see what their methods of refusal were. “No; you cannot.”
“No; and don’t you ask me again.”
“No; and stop teasing.”
“No; and do go away somewhere.”
“No; and when I say no, I mean no.” These forms of refusal were common in a number of families. I heard them repeatedly, and they were always spoken in an irritated tone; and I heard one mother say, “No; and if you ask me again I’ll whip you.” Perhaps you think these mothers were rude, uncultivated women; but they were not, they were ladies. They had both social and intellectual advantages, and most of them were church members; Christian women, I do not doubt. They loved their children, too. If any ill or hurt came to their children’s tender bodies, they suffered with them, but any hurt which they gave to the loving hearts and tender spirits of their children they never recognized. My soul was filled with indignation. I did not blame the little creatures for the wrathful though impotent protests which they made against this injustice and tyranny. I felt that I should rebel if I were so treated. It takes long years of practice in self-control to enable one to bear insult calmly, and what can one expect of a little, inexperienced, quick-tempered child? “But,” said a mother with whom I dared remonstrate, “I have to be severe with my children. If I were not, they would not obey me at all.” I sighed. How could I show that mother that she was mistaken? “I am sure,” said I, “that children can be taught that it is just as necessary to obey a pleasant ‘no’ as a cross one, and it is so much easier for them to mind when they are refused kindly. The spirit of combativeness is not roused, and all they have to do is to bear the disappointment, whatever it may be, and that is often hard enough for their eager little hearts to endure. But if they love you and trust you, and you give them as much sympathy over their troubles as you would for a cut finger, for instance, you will be surprised at the brave way in which they will resign a forbidden pleasure, having faith that ‘mamma knows best.’” I was sitting with a friend once when her twelve-year-old boy sprang into the room, eager and impetuous. “Mother,” he shouted, “can I go out to the swimming hole this afternoon? All the fellows are going.” The mother quietly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” said she, “but you cannot go.” The boy did not see me in his absorption, and he straightened himself defiantly. “I will go,” said he. Instantly a look of reproof and command came into the mother’s face, and she silently looked her boy in the eyes. He softened at once. “I want to go awfully,” said he. “I know it,” she answered gently, “but your father has decided that you are not a sufficiently expert swimmer to go into the water without him, and he cannot go with you this afternoon. Here is Miss B.,” his mother added; “cannot you go and speak to her?” He gathered himself together and came and shook hands with me politely, but all his bright, eager looks had vanished; he was plainly bitterly disappointed; he went and sat down on the piazza for some time in silence. Finally he came in again. “Mother,” said he, “I don’t believe Harry Hotchkiss can go swimming either. If I can get him, may we go over to Pelham Woods together?” “Oh, yes,” answered his mother cordially, “and there are fresh cookies in the cooky jar; you may take some for both of you!” Tom’s face grew brighter; he made a plunge for his mother, and gave her a hug which tousled her hair and crushed her neck ruffle entirely. “Mother,” said he, “I just love you.” “So do I you, Tom,” she answered quickly. And then Master Tom dashed out of the room. “Well,” said the mother laughingly, after his departure, while she rearranged her hair, “how would you like to possess a young bear like that?” “Ah,” I returned, “I think you are a fortunate mother to be able to govern such an impetuous lad so well.” “It is very anxious business, though,” she responded, “this saying ‘no.’ I am often afraid he will break away from me, he is so intense and so eager; but he loves me, and if I can give him a little time, his affection for me wins. He knows that I always say ‘yes’ when I can.” “You will keep him, never fear,” I answered. “A boy who loves his mother, and is sure that his mother loves him and longs to make him happy, will never break away, for love is the strongest tie in the world.”—Christian at Work. SOMETHING FOR PARENTS.
By Baltimore Sun
In well-ordered families there is a time and opportunity for the moral training, but the physical is usually neglected or left to chance. If the child is fond of outdoor sports, he may, through his own disposition to play, get sufficient exercise to keep him in good health and develop his physical powers as they should be developed. If, however, he is frail and in special need of physical exercise and training, he will be indisposed to exert himself, indifferent to sports, and in danger of being allowed to grow up without that foundation of physical health and strength essential not only to his success, but to his happiness—perhaps to his continued life. No honors won at school can compensate for an enfeebled body, and where the school itself neglects the educational duty of providing for the physical as well as the intellectual development of its pupils, parents must undertake the task, as they do that of caring for the moral education of their children where this also is neglected by the school authorities. The pressure put upon children during the school term makes it difficult to pursue any systematic course of physical training likely to prove effective, especially with those who are indisposed to rough outdoor sports. During the summer vacation, however, they should be built up and strengthened to withstand the trials of the next ten months. An outdoor life, in a changed environment, free from all intellectual cares or labors, will often give even the frail a store of vitality that will last them through the next season of bodily activity and mental worry. If, therefore, parents cannot do much during the school season toward supplementing the work of the schools in the line that is now most neglected, they can at least during the summer season give special attention to the physical well-being of their children. The ideal training would be harmonious on all lines, carried on simultaneously; in the absence of that ideal, ten months of the year having been given over to intellectual culture, two months should be allowed for physical training and development. These are precious days for the strengthening of the physical man. They are felt as such by grown men and women who expend in business or in gayeties during the other seasons of the year the energies they have stored up during the restful summer outing.347An eminent English physician who, at the age of eighty-four, published a delightful book of reminiscences, ascribed his health and intellectual vigor at this advanced age to the fact that for fifty years he had not allowed anything to interfere with an annual vacation of eight or nine weeks, which he spent away from his ordinary surroundings. If such restful change is needed by the matured man or woman, it is needed much more by those who have not yet developed the full measure of their physical powers. It is not, of course, possible for all people to drop their school studies or their work and take this needed rest in a changed environment, but they should come as near to this ideal method of recruiting their strength as their circumstances will permit. It is particularly desirable that city children shall be permitted and encouraged to take outdoor exercise when free from school; that they shall be given large latitude in the matter of ball playing, fishing, or other outdoor recreations that will insensibly serve to develop their physical powers and strengthen their constitutions. Some boys and girls are ready enough to take this prescription, but it is especially needed by their weaker brothers and sisters who are languid and indifferent, and whose fondness for books is sometimes mistaken for literary taste or talent, when it is in reality nothing more than an abnormal development of the mental at the expense of the physical powers. Now is the time to look after the physical well-being of the children. The schools attend to the intellectual during ten months of the year; the good father and mother look after the moral training at all times; the two months of vacation should be given up to physical training and development, so that boys and girls may come back to their studies in the fall in a high state of health.—Baltimore Sun. THE NAME UPON THE WINDOWPANE.
In the old Scottish inn we met
A motley group from every land,
Scholar and artist, peer and priest,
And many a traveler, browned and tanned;
All pilgrims, waiting for an hour,
Chatting in idle courtesy,
And yet, amid the drifting talk,
A little message came to me. It happened thus: A restless boy
Unto the dripping window went,
Whose glass, scarred with a thousand names,
His mind to the same fancy bent.
He sought and found a vacant spot,
And took the diamond from his hand;
But, ere a letter had been formed,
A voice, accustomed to command, Cried, "Philip, stop; before you write,
Consider well what you're about."
"Father, why should I hesitate?"
"Because you cannot rub it out." These words fell on my idle ear;
I said them o'er and o'er again,
And asked myself, "Oh, who would choose
All they have written to remain?" Unto a loving mother oft
We all have sent, without a doubt,
Full many a hard and careless word
That now we never can rub out;
For cruel words cut deeper far
Than diamond on the windowpane,
And, oft recalled in after years,
They wound her o'er and o'er again. So, in our daily walk and life,
We write and do and say the thing
We never can undo nor stay
With any future sorrowing.
We carve ourselves on beating hearts!
Ah! then how wise to pause and doubt,
To blend with love and thought our words,
Because we cannot rub them out. "THE Chinese," says the New York Times, "do everything backward. Their compass points to the south instead of the north. The men wear skirts and the women trousers; while the men wear their hair long, the women coil theirs in a knot. The dressmakers are men; the women carry burdens. The spoken language is not written, and the written language is not spoken. Books are read backward, and any notes are inserted at the top. White is used for mourning, and the bridesmaids wear black; instead of being maidens, these functionaries are old women. The Chinese surname comes first, and they shake their own hands instead of the hands of one whom they greet. Vessels are launched sideways, and horses are mounted from the off side. They commence their dinner with dessert and end up with soup and fish." Dr. D. P. Robbins says sleep is most important to health. During its hours of quiet rest, millions of microscopic cells are busy in the interior of the organism, repairing the waste which the day's work has caused. Dr. Richardson, of London, describes the labor of sleep in the following language:— "During the period of natural sleep the most important changes of nutrition are in progress; the body is renovating, and, if young, is actually growing. If the body be properly covered, the animal heat is being conserved and laid up for expenditure during the waking hours that are to follow; the respiration is reduced, the inspirations being lessened in the proportions of six to seven; the action of the heart is reduced; the voluntary muscles, relieved of all fatigue, and relaxed, are undergoing repair of structure, and recruiting their excitability; and the voluntary nervous system, dead for the time to the external vibration, or, as the older men call it, 'stimulus' from without, is also undergoing rest and repair, so that, when it comes again into work, it may receive better the impressions it may have to gather up, and influence more effectively the muscles it may be called upon to animate, direct, control." ONE SECRET OF RIGHT LIVING.
A LARGE number of professors of athletics, or athletic professors, met recently in the gymnasium of the Adelphi Academy, Brooklyn, to teach the human race how to keep well and live forever. On the subject of physical exercise most people are fools. A man without a muscle is as badly off in this rough and tumble world as a man without a brain. Parents take pride in their children when their heads are packed, like a pawnbroker's shop, with all sorts of odds and ends of information, but they do too little to encourage the symmetrical development of their bodies. They forget that robust health constitutes about three-quarters of the problem of human happiness, and that it is criminal neglect of the boy and girl to keep them at their books until they lose all appetite for out-of-door sports. Half the men in the world are broken down with dyspepsia, and the other half are broken up with rheumatism. The women, who are not supposed to have any muscles, indulge in the luxuries of sick headache and neuralgia. A half hour's vigorous exercise in the morning before the business of the day begins, a brisk walk of a dozen miles, would sweeten the temper and make life worth living. Such is our physical condition, however, that if you should turn the gentlemen of Wall Street into a gymnasium for an hour's torture with the parallel bars and fifty-pound dumb-bells and the inspiring trapeze, you would have to pick them up from the floor like chestnuts under a tree after a gale of wind. Our clerks and their employers also, after a three hours' trot on a hard road, with a leap here and there over a fence or ditch, would have to be brought home in furniture wagons and a large proportion of them deposited at the undertaker's. We have not yet learned the secret of right living. No man lives well who does not spend hours every day out-of-doors. We are asthmatic, rheumatic, spleeny, and hard to get along with at home because we believe in brains and not in bodies.—New York Herald. Most of it comes from Asia Minor, where it is found growing in great abundance all along the flat, uncultivated, and almost uninhabited lands of the rivers Tigris and Euphrates. It is a small shrub not more than three feet high, with a light foliage, and is never found far from the water. The season for gathering the roots is generally during the winter, although it is possible all the year round. When the root is first dug, it is full of water and must be allowed to dry—a long, tedious process, often taking a year. It is then sent to Bagdad, where it is pressed into bales and shipped to London, and from there to America, quantities of it being used in this country in the manufacture of tobacco. The black licorice sticks or rolls which we see in the confectionery or drug store come mostly from Spain and are made of pure juice mixed with a little starch, which prevents it from melting in warm weather, and before packing, each stick is wrapped in bay leaves. The word "licorice" means "sweet root," and is of Greek origin.—Selected. FOR THE HOME AND SCHOOL.
With Illustrations and Special Instruction for MOTHERS AND TEACHERS.
BY LILLIE E. AFFOLTER AND F. E. BELDEN. THE LIFE AND WORDS OF CHRIST
The first of a Series of Three Books covering a
Three Years' Course of Graded Scriptural
Instruction for Children. "BIBLE OBJECT LESSONS," NO. 1, CONTAINS 160 PAGES, EMBRACING
52 Lessons—one for each Sabbath in the Year.
30 Original Hymns and Songs, Written for the Lessons.
36 Beautiful Full-page Illustrations, with Colored Plate.
52 Original Pen Drawings, showing how to use the Kindergarten Material when Teaching the Lessons. In the following styles of binding. Orders by mail will be filled postpaid at prices given below.
ROYAL EDITION, 9x11½ inches, with Colored Plate.
EXTRA CLOTH, panel sides, green and gold, printed
on enameled paper, gilt edges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $3 75
COMMON CLOTH, aluminum and brown, calendered
paper, lemon edges . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 75
PLAIN EDITION, 1½x10 inches without Colored
Plate, plain edges, ink titles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 00
BOARD COVERS, paper sides, $1 50
When the Kindergarten Material (set of three boxes)
is ordered with the book in either style of binding, purchaser
will receive a beautiful premium "Portfolio of Blackboard
Sketches on the life of Christ," to aid mothers, teachers and
children in drawing. Special Kindergarten Material
To Accompany "Bible Object Lessons and Songs for
Little Ones."
Book 1.—The Life and Words of Christ. The material for this book consists of three boxes: (1)
Cubes and Triangles; (2) Squares and Oblongs; (3) Miscel-
laneous Supplies; two Cones and two Domes; ten 1-inch and
twenty 2-inch Mounted Orange Sticks, to represent people;
thirty-six 2-inch and twenty-four 1-inch Unmounted Green
Sticks for Outline and Tree Building; ten Miniature Sheep;
and Crumpled Green French Tissue Paper, to represent
water. Boxes 1 and 2 are made of finished cherry, 3x3x3 inches,
with locked corners and sliding top. The blocks are of hard
maple. Box 3 is of pasteboard with double sides. Price of the three boxes, by mail . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $1 75
Discount to schools when ordered in quantities.
Prices on Special Round Kindergarten Tables and Small
Chairs on application. Parties in California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington,
Idaho, Montana, Arizona and New Mexico, address Oakland
House.
Those in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut,
New Jersey, Delaware, Long Island and New York City,
address New York House. Or 43 Bond St., New York. Special Openings in India
By S. N. Haskell
Special Openings in India.
An opening for the gospel does not consist in a demand on the part of the heathen for the missionary of the cross to preach unto him a self-denying religion, contrary to that of his forefathers. Wicked men, under the control of Satan, do not do this thing; and Christians who wait for such openings will not only wait in vain, but will pass by the many open doors that God has set for them to enter. Christian work is an aggressive one. It is to impart blessings to the needy; it is to create in the heart of the self-satisfied soul in sin, one who has become restless in his evil course, a desire for holiness, purity, and a righteousness which is found alone in Jesus Christ. It is the wants, the absolute needs of the perishing that led Christ to come into this world to die. He came to his own, but his own received him not. And the wicked, inspired by Satan, would add pain in his dying agony, by taunting expressions, "He saved others; let him save himself, if he be Christ, the chosen of God;" "If thou be the king of the Jews, save thyself;" "If thou be Christ, save thyself and us," etc. They also mocked him, "offering him vinegar." "And they bowed the knee before him and mocked him, saying, Hail, king of the Jews!" "And they spit upon him, and took the reed and smote him on the head," while Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." This formed a basis for Peter's sermon, when he charged upon this very people denying the Holy One and the Just, and desiring a murderer to be granted unto them, and killed the Prince of life; but he says, "I wot [know] that through ignorance ye did it, as did also your rulers." But to that very people he said, "Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord." Acts 3:14-21. This example of the Founder of the Christian religion was imitated by the apostles and every true missionary since, in suffering and dying, if need be, for the rebellious. It is the condition of the heathen that creates the demand for missionary labor. It is when every circumstance invites the missionary to enter the field and to meet the lost where they are which constitutes the open door. Such openings are to-day set before the missionary to reach every neighborhood, tongue, and dialect in India. Under the protection of the English Government the missionary can enter these doors, and preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. It should be remembered that India is composed of different oriental nations and Asiatic religions, each holding themselves aloof from others of different classes and castes, also of the non-castes among the Hindu religionists. They worship gods shaped after the imagination of thousands of corrupt hearts, inspired by him who commenced war with Christ in heaven. Among the non-castes who live in the rural districts, both men and women go to their labor in the morning, sow or reap, bind and harvest their grain through the day, carrying it upon their shoulders at night to the threshing floor near their own dwelling. They cook and eat their food before leaving in the morning, and after they return at night. The time for their labor is the light portion of the twenty-four hours. The price paid for these long and weary daily toils is from two to four cents per day for women, and from four to eight cents a day for men. Yet they are without God, the consolations of divine grace, but have hearts which are made tender by the recital of the story of Christ's love. "How do you begin first to awaken an interest?" said I to a young lady who for eighteen months had labored entirely alone among the non-castes without seeing another white face. "Oh," said she, as her face lighted up with delight, "I go to the fields, and bind the grain for the women, and tell them the story of a Saviour's love! They are surprised to think that a European lady will make them a visit under such circumstances, and far more surprised to think that with her own white hands she will unite with them in their daily toil. When they become interested in the story of the Saviour's love, I tell them if they will send me their children, I will tell them the story, and they will go home and tell the parents at night when they return from their labor." Thus she starts her school, fills their little hearts full of the simple story of Christ, and incidents in his life which they can comprehend, teaches them to sing, which all Hindus are passionately fond of, and has them memorize texts of Scripture; and they go home full of what they have heard and learned, and become missionaries to their parents; and in a short time she has entire neighborhoods aroused to learn of the gospel of Jesus Christ. "And as I tell the story," said she, "tears will trickle down their faces, and many will express faith in such a Saviour, who died to redeem them." Mr. Donaldson said in reply to the question how he began his work in the jungles, which means small country villages in the rural district, being the most unpopular place to labor: "I go into the bazaar, sit down cross-legged as they sit, and as the natives come in to trade, I ask them which god they worship. They will go on and tell me one after another, and sometimes hours will be spent in their telling about their gods. I then ask them if their god ever did them any good. Did he ever make them happy? did he ever heal them when they were sick? Does he come to them as a blessing? This is something that the heathen gods never do; but, on the other hand, they make them sick; they bring calamity, war, and every misfortune of life is the direct result of the anger of their god." "I then tell them of my God, how good he is, of his wonderful love, incidents of his life when upon the earth in his Son Jesus Christ, how he healed the sick, relieved the distressed, comforted the sorrowing, and lifted up the bowed down. They become interested and inquire about my God. Thus I open schools, establish missions, send out my catechists, and in a short time I see most glorious results. I soon gain the confidence of the entire village to that extent that if trouble arises, I am sent for by night or day to arbitrate in their cases. If sickness comes, I am sent to call upon my God, and administer such remedies as are at my command. If bereavement comes, I am sent for to tell them how good my God is; and with tearful eyes they frequently ask if I think my God can save such poor sinners as they are. I never attack their idols nor their idolatrous worship; but when their hearts are captivated by the love of Christ, idolatry, with all its forms of worship, falls of its own accord." Such are the openings among the non-castes of India among millions of people. Cast Thy Bread Upon the Water
"Cast thy bread upon the water; for thou shalt find it after many days."—Eccl. 11:1. SACRIFICE.
By George Klingle
The keynote of life's harmony is sacrifice.
Not twice, or thrice,
Beneath each sun will souls bow down
To lay the crown
Of will or time beneath strange feet,
But many times, that life's chords may be sweet.
Who sacrifices most
Drinks deepest life's rich strain, counting no cost,
But giving self on every side
Daily and hourly, sanctified
But in the giving.
Living
Is but the bearing, the enduring,
The clashing of hammer, the cutting,
The straining of the strings,
The growth of harmony's pure wings.
Life is the tuning time complete
Alone when every chord is sweet
Through sacrifice. No untuned string
Can music bring;
No untried life
Has triumphed, having passed the strife.
True living
Is learning all about the giving.
—Illustrated Christian Weekly. "THE HEAVENS ARE CHANGING."
By Editor
WE clip this touching little story from the Home Mission Echo. Can our children, to whom the story of Christ's love has been familiar from their infancy, fancy the solemn gladness of those who first learn it, as did this old chief after years of darkness? Dr. Sheldon Jackson, who has been engaged in mission work in Alaska for years, says: "I have never seen a people so susceptible to the truth, and so eager to receive it, as the Alaskans." He relates a number of instances of their desire to hear the message of the white man. One old chief came from a long distance to the missionary, saying he had heard that a white man had brought a letter from the Great Spirit to his people. Could he see it? It was shown him. Coming up to the book and touching it reverently, he said: "Does He say anything in it about my people? You are sure it is from the Great Spirit? And is there anything in it about me? And will you bring it to my people?" The missionary promised to go with it to his village. At his coming flags were displayed, and a cannon was fired as a welcome. The missionary was given a seat of honor in an underground habitation. Two medicine men came out from a curtained corner of the room. One after another came out slowly and solemnly, and, after gazing upward to the sky through the smoke hole in the roof, said, "The heavens are changing." This form of symbolism indicated their willingness to hear the message from the white man. The missionary told them of the good tidings of a Saviour of the world; of a Saviour who was their Saviour as well as of the white man. At the close of the message the old chief lifted his eyes, and said: "The heavens indeed are changing. We thank the Great Spirit for having pity on us, for sending his boy to take the bad out of people. We thank thee that thou hast sent the white man with thy letter. Help us to listen and obey." Has not a message been given us from the Great Spirit—a message urging us to hasten with light and comfort to the Alaskans, to a people who are looking to us for help, to children who are looking to us for home, shelter, and eternal life? May we, like the Alaskan chief, pray the Father that he will help us to listen and obey.—Selected. VINDICATION OF THE TRUE SABBATH.
By Editor
FORMER MISSIONARY OF THE REFORMED PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH TO HAYTI. THIS pamphlet is an able treatise on the divine appointment of the Sabbath of the Bible. The personal narrative of its author contains a noble instance of self-sacrifice and devotion to the truth for the truth's sake. The reader of this little work will find breathed throughout its pages a mild and Christian spirit, worthy the imitation of controversialists of every name; while at the same time, its candid, convincing, and logical arguments challenge refutation. Paper covers, 68 pages, sent post-paid for 10 cents. Address, PACIFIC PRESS, Oakland, Cal.