Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · May 31, 1883
General Articles.
By Ellen G. White
Martin Luther—His Character and Early Life.
BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.
THROUGH all the ages of papal darkness and oppression, God's care was over his cause and his people. Amid opposition, conflict, and persecution, an all-wise providence was still at work in the upbuilding of Christ's kingdom. Satan exercised his power to hinder the work of God, by destroying the workmen; but as soon as one laborer was imprisoned, or slain, another was raised up to fill the vacancy. Despite all the opposing powers of evil, angels of God were doing their work, heavenly messengers were searching out men to stand as light-bearers amid the darkness. Notwithstanding the wide-spread apostasy, there were honest souls who had given heed to all the light which shone upon them. In their ignorance of God's word they had received the doctrines and traditions of men, but when the word was placed within their reach, they earnestly studied its pages, and in humility of heart they wept and prayed for a knowledge of God's will. With great joy they accepted the light of truth, and eagerly sought to impart light to their fellow-men.
Through the labors of Wickliffe, Huss, and kindred workers, thousands of noble witnesses had borne testimony to the truth; yet at the beginning of the sixteenth century the darkness of ignorance and superstition still rested like a pall upon the church and the world. Religion was made to consist in a round of ceremonies, many of them borrowed from heathenism, and all devised by Satan to lead the minds of the people away from God and the truth. The worship of images and relics was still maintained. The Scriptural ordinance of the Lord's Supper was supplanted by the idolatrous sacrifice of the mass. Popes and priests claimed the power to forgive sins, and to open and close the gates of Heaven to all mankind. Senseless superstitions and rigorous exactions had taken the place of the true worship of God. The lives of popes and clergy were so corrupt, their proud pretensions so blasphemous, that good men trembled for the morality of the rising generation. With iniquity prevailing in the high places of the church, it seemed inevitable that the world would soon become as wicked as were the antediluvians or the inhabitants of Sodom.
The gospel was withheld from the people. It was regarded as a crime to own or read the Scriptures. Even the higher classes found it difficult to obtain a glimpse of the word of God. Satan well knew that if the people were permitted to read and interpret the Bible for themselves, his deceptions would speedily lose their power. Hence it was his studied effort to shut the Scriptures away from the people, and to prevent their minds from becoming enlightened by the truths of the gospel. But a day of religious light and freedom was about to dawn upon the world, and all the efforts of Satan and his hosts were powerless to prevent its coming.
Foremost among those who were called of God to break the chains of popery, and lead the church into the light of purer faith, stood Martin Luther. Though, like others in his time, he did not see every point of faith as clearly as we see to-day, yet he earnestly desired to know the will of God, and joyfully received the truth as it was made plain to his understanding. Zealous, ardent, devoted; knowing no fear but the fear of God, and acknowledging no foundation for religious faith but the Scriptures of truth, Luther was the man for his time; and through him God accomplished a great work for the emancipation of the church, and the enlightenment of the world.
Like the first heralds of the gospel, Luther sprung from the ranks of poverty. His father earned by daily toil as a miner the means to educate his son. He intended him for a lawyer; but God designed to make him a builder upon the great temple rising so slowly through the centuries.
Luther's father was a man of strong and active mind, and great force of character, honest, resolute, and straightforward. His life was characterized by stern integrity; he was true to his convictions of duty, let the consequences be what they might. His sterling good sense led him to regard the monastic system with distrust. He was highly displeased when Luther, without his consent, entered a monastery; and it was two years before the father was reconciled to his son, and even then his opinions remained the same.
Luther's parents were strictly conscientious, earnest, and zealous in the performance of their parental duties, seeking to bring up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Yet with their firmness and strength of character they sometimes erred by exercising too severe. Their government was one of law and authority. The mother especially manifested too little love in the discipline of her sensitive son. While she gave him faithful instruction in Christian duty, as she understood it, the austerity and even harshness of her training led him to cherish erroneous views of a religious life. It was the influence of these early impressions that led him in later years to choose the life of a monk supposing it to be a life of self-denial, humiliation, and purity, and therefore pleasing to God.
The life of Luther from his earliest years was one of privation, hardship, and severe discipline. The effect of this training was seen in his religious character throughout his life. Luther himself, though conscious that in some respects his parents had erred, found in their discipline much more to approve than to condemn.
The prevailing sin of parents at the present day lies in the indulgence of their children. The youth are weak and inefficient, with little physical stamina or moral power because of the neglect of parents to train them in childhood to habits of obedience and industry. The foundation of character is laid at home: no after influence from any earthly source can wholly counteract the effect of parental discipline. If firmness and decision were mingled with love and tenderness in the training of the young, we would see youth coming up, like Luther, qualified for lives of usefulness and honor.
At an early age Luther was sent to school, where he was treated with a harshness and even violence that he had not been subject to at home. So great was the poverty of his parents that he was obliged to obtain his food by singing from door to door, and he often suffered from hunger. The gloomy, superstitious ideas of religion then prevailing filled him with fear. He would lie down at night with a sorrowful heart, looking forward with trembling to the dark future, and in constant terror at the thought of God as a stern, unrelenting judge, a cruel tyrant, rather than a kind heavenly Father. There are few youth at the present day who would not have become disheartened under so many and so great discouragements; but Luther perseveringly pressed forward toward the high standard of moral and intellectual excellence which he had determined to attain.
He thirsted for knowledge, and the earnest and practical character of his mind led him to desire the solid and useful rather than the showy and superficial. At the age of eighteen he entered the University of Erfurt. His situation was now more favorable and his prospects brighter than in his earlier years. His parents having by thrift and industry acquired a competence, were able to render him all needed assistance. And the influence of judicious friends had somewhat lessened the gloomy effects of his former training. He now diligently applied himself to the study of the best authors, enriching his understanding with their most weighty thoughts, and making the wisdom of the wise his own. A retentive memory, a vivid imagination, strong reasoning powers, and energetic application to study, soon won for him the foremost rank among his associates.242
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." That fear dwelt in the heart of Luther, enabling him to maintain his steadfastness of purpose, and leading him to deep humility before God. He had an abiding sense of his dependence upon divine aid, and he did not fail to begin each day with prayer, while his heart was continually breathing a petition for guidance and support. "To pray well," he often said, "is the better half of study."
While one day examining the books in the library of the university, Luther discovered a Latin Bible. He had before heard fragments of the Gospels and epistles at public worship, and he thought that they were the whole of God's word. Now for the first time he is looking upon the whole Bible. With mingled awe and wonder he turns the sacred pages; with quickening pulse and throbbing heart he reads for himself the words of life, pausing now and then to exclaim, "Oh, if God would give me such a book for my own!" Angels of Heaven were by his side, and rays of light from the throne of God flashed upon the sacred pages, revealing the treasures of truth to his understanding. He had ever feared to offend God, but now the deep conviction of his condition as a sinner takes hold upon him, as never before.
An earnest desire to be free from sin and to find peace with God, led him at last, after many severe conflicts, to enter a cloister, and devote himself to a monastic life. Here he was subjected to the meanest service, being required to act as door-keeper and sweeper, and to beg from house to house. He was at an age when respect and appreciation are most eagerly craved, and these menial offices were deeply mortifying to his natural feelings; but he patiently endured it all, believing that it was a necessary humiliation because of his sins. This discipline was fitting him to become a mighty workman upon God's building.
Every moment that could be spared from his daily duties, he diligently employed in study, robbing himself of sleep, and grudging even the moments spent in eating his coarse, humble food. Above everything else he delighted in the study of God's word. And he often repaired to the Bible which he had found chained to the convent wall. As his convictions of sin deepened with the study of the Scriptures, he sought by his own works to obtain pardon and peace. He led a most rigorous life, endeavoring to crucify the flesh by fastings, watchings, and scourgings. He shrank from no sacrifice to become holy and gain Heaven. As the result of the painful discipline which he imposed upon himself, he lost all strength, and suffered from fainting spasms, from the effects of which he never fully recovered. But with all his efforts, his burdened soul found no relief. He was at last driven to the verge of despair.
When it appeared to Luther that all was lost, God raised up a friend and helper for him. The pious Staupitz opened the word of God to Luther's mind, and bade him look away from himself, cease the contemplation of infinite punishment for the violation of God's law, and look to Jesus, his sin-pardoning Saviour. "Instead of torturing yourself for your faults, cast yourself into the arms of your Redeemer. Trust in him, in the righteousness of his life, in the sacrifice of his death. Listen to the Son of God. He became man to assure you of the divine favor. Love him who has first loved you." Thus spoke this messenger of mercy. His words made a deep impression upon Luther's mind. After many a struggle with long-cherished errors, he was enabled to grasp the truth, and peace came to his troubled soul.
Oh that there were seen in this day, so deep abhorrence of self, so great humiliation of soul before God, and so earnest a faith when light is given, as were manifested by Martin Luther! True conviction of sin is now rarely experienced; superficial conversions abound, and Christian experience is dwarfed and spiritless. And why is this? Because of the false and fatal education given by parents to their children, and by ministers to their people. The young are indulged in their love of pleasure, and left unrestrained to pursue a course of sin; thus they lose sight of filial obligation, and having learned to trample upon the authority of their parents, they are prepared to trample upon the authority of God. And the people, in like manner, are allowed, unwarned, to unite in the sinful pursuits and pleasures of the world, until they lose sight of their obligations to God, and of his claims upon them. They are assured of divine mercy, but permitted to forget divine justice. They expect salvation through the sacrifice of Christ, without rendering obedience to the law of God. Hence they have no true conviction of sin, and without this there can be no true conversion.
Luther searched the Scriptures with untiring interest and zeal, and at last found therein the way of life clearly revealed. He learned that it is not to the pope, but to Christ, that men are to look for pardon and justification. "There is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved." Christ is the only propitiation for sin; he is the complete and all-sufficient sacrifice, for the sins of the whole world, securing the pardon of all who believe on him as God hath appointed. Jesus himself declares, "I am the door. By me if any man enter in, he shall be saved." Luther sees that Christ Jesus came into the world, not to save people in their sins, but to save them from their sins; that the one only way whereby the sinner can be saved is by repentance toward God, because of the transgression of the law, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, both for the pardon of sin and for grace to lead a life of obedience.
Thus he was led to perceive the fallacy of the papal doctrine, that salvation is obtained by punishments and penances, and that men must through hell reach Heaven. He learned from the precious Bible that he who is not cleansed from sin by Christ's atoning blood, can never be cleansed by the fires of hell; that the doctrine of purgatory is but a cunning device of the father of lies, and that the present life is the only period of probation granted to man in which to prepare for the society of the pure and holy.
SHALL I BE READY?
By Mary M. Buckland
By MARY M. BUCKLAND.
Will the work that I am doing
Stand the test of that great day,
When the Lord will come to judgment,
All that's wrong to sweep away ?
Will he speak the words of welcome
When he comes to claim his own?
Will he say, Thou hast been faithful;
All thy work has been well done?
Have I built on the foundation,
On the rock that's firm and true?
Have I made a full surrender,
Striving with my might to do
All the work the Master gives me,
With my armor ever bright,
Walking in the narrow pathway,
Ever keeping in the light?
Oh! I must be more in earnest.
I must seek the Lord to-day,
Choose him as my only portion
While in this dark world I stay.
—Albion, N. Y.
Is the Church a Social Club?
WHEN the strains of Thomas' orchestra had died away in one church, to be succeeded by Shakspearean readings; and when in another church, after a glee club had rejoiced the audience, and portions of Julius Caesar had been recited, the pastor arose, in the place where he ordinarily preaches the gospel of Christ and administers the sacraments, and delivered a "ludicrous" and "inimitably funny" address, on "Shall he wear a silk hat?"—when we remark, these exercises were concluded it did seem a not unfitting time to ask thinking Christian people: Is the church a social club, or a divine foundation? In the name of God, whom we serve, which is it? Or is it both? Or, if neither, what is it? And we ask these questions now, not in a jesting mood; not wholly in a critical mood; we ask them in a sad and anxious spirit, believing that the true idea of the church is fast fading out in this country, and that unless something occurs to awaken the hearts of God's people to this truth, the very honor and good name of the institution which our Saviour founded will be brought into disrepute and degradation in many places.
Departure from a standard cannot be fully realized till the standard itself is cited. Therefore, to ascertain where the church is to-day, let us cite the standard of the divine ideal of the church. In the Old Testament, we see God gathering his people together, a spiritual household, within the inclosure of the tabernacle; there whilst priests in stainless robes perform the rites of sacrifice, the Presence comes in clouds of glory, and Israel bows beneath the overwhelming consciousness of a God revealed—a law proclaimed. In the New Testament where do we find the divine ideal of the church more clearly drawn than in the epistle to the Ephesians, in these words: "Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water, by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish."
Citing this standard of the church, we affirm our belief that the church in America is losing in many places even the outward semblance of a divine foundation, established by the death of the Son of God, and existing for the help and comfort of souls struggling through a sinful and difficult world toward a vast eternity. The idea of the church, as Christ gave us that idea, is fading out here.
We will not be general. We will be explicit, and state that it is fading out in these directions: 1. In growing irreverence for the house of God. 2. In growing misapprehensions about Christian fellowship. 3. In a conventionalism that starves the soul. Take these in detail:—
1. There is a growing irreverence for the house of God. Children are finding out that the place can be demeaned for all sorts of uses without rebuke from any quarter. Young people's associations are growing bolder in their claim upon the church buildings in the interests of a jollity that passes for religious activity. Adults are now in two classes: those who encourage such things—on the ground that "the church must be made attractive"—and those who in silence and with aching heart feel that the noble sanctity of God's earthly house (a sanctity that is so far from superstition!) is fast departing.
2. There is a growing misapprehension about Christian fellowship: the deplorable idea that the church must furnish what the world calls "society." The modern "communion of saints" is freely believed to involve salad and ices; that your church will not be "successful" unless you "get the people together for social intercourse." No one would admit more freely than the writer that there must be "social intercourse" in church life. The truth is, you could not prevent it if you would; but the fellowship of the ideal church is on a basis of Christian work, and prayer, and benevolence, and the friendly visit to the stranger, and the sympathetic call upon the sick and sad, the natural intermingling of friend with friend; and not on a basis of social pleasure. It is the fellowship that springs up naturally between hearts that are alike earnest to follow Christ, to work for him, to bring the world to him; or that fellowship, different but equally noble, between one who yearns to do good and one who, though not243a Christian, feels the power of Christian interest and sympathy.
3. There is a prevalent conventionalism that starves the soul. We do not mean what is called "stiffness;" in other words, the reserve common among people of good breeding; we mean the reverse, expressed by the conventional religious phrase, that "Everybody must be made to feel at home:" which practically means, that before or after divine service everybody must chat with and nod to his neighbor, and gaily discuss current topics, in order to dispel the feeling of "stiffness." We affirm that this has starved the soul of many and many an attendant at church by driving away all thought of seeking Christ in his own means of grace; by utterly dispelling the solemn impressions that may have been registered by the service upon the soul.
Along these three lines the Christly ideal of the church is fading out, and is being supplanted by the principles of action suitable in a social club. And this fading out of the Christly ideal has been accelerated by several influences which we can only mention as secondary to our main point. Among these we mention the practice of church sociables, conducted by an organized entertainment committee; the practice of arranging fairs, dramatic, literary, or musical exhibitions, for the filling of empty treasuries and the bolstering up of sickly enterprises; the yet grosser practice of "letting out" the church as a concert and lecture hall, or for such unmentionable degradation as may be included under the name of "wax works," enticing the public to help pay debts the people ought to pay, or not contract. These things seem to us to be just as surely as possible blotting out from our church life the image and superscription of the Son of God, and to be rendering less and less probable the continuance of the church as a saving, ennobling influence in modern society. And within the realm of worship there are similar destructive influences at work; which, also, we merely mention. The use of rollicking "revival" songs, that teach little worthy to be learned, that emasculate the gospel story, that involve trivial and worthless tunes; the irreverent and irresponsible work of choirs which disgrace the lofty service of the Divine Being; and, above all, the eccentric, Christless preaching, which wanders everywhere for material, and too seldom to him "in whom dwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead."
The combined work of all these destructive influences has brought about the following conditions: It is a sine qua non that a church shall be sociable; it is often the first question asked, "Is your church a social one?" It is the unpardonable sin if you have been six times to church and no one has nodded to you. "Ah," you say, "no such church for me. It is too rich and too cold—it has too many diamond ear-rings in it." And the more active a church is socially, the more "live" it is believed to be. . . .
But you say, "Man is a social being; he must find friends." So he must; and so he will unless he holds off. There is always a social life in a church, as I have said, by necessity; there never was a church without it, and you will by degrees work into friendships if you show yourself approachable. But the ideal church subordinates the social to the spiritual; does not try to organize the social element as such; lets it take care of itself, and seeks only to draw people into the work of Christ, and the work of Christ means brotherhood, the communion of saints!
The disease fastened on our American church life is Yankeeism: the idea that you must be "chatty," and if everybody is "chatty," and church life buzzes along with little sociables, and tea parties, and suppers, and entertainments, and everybody has a jolly time, that church that has plenty of life in that church. That is the end of your "proud, stuck-up churches" (to use the actual words of others), "where nobody knows anyone and nobody speaks to you." If there is nothing but the service going on, they call this Yankeeism in church life; and before asking whether it represents a true or false principle, I only quote again the Christly ideal of the church, emphasizing certain words:—"Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water, by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish."
What is the cause of this Yankeeism? People are looking at each other, and not at Christ, and they want the spice of worldly life introduced in the church. If we looked at him and worshiped him, the church would satisfy us, the worship would satisfy us and we would deplore as an intrusion any petty social amusement introduced in connection with our church life. We would say: Defile not my church life with the footprints of the world. Let there be one place where the world is not suggested. Let me have one Holy of Holies left in my life; a place where I can commune with my Saviour and lose all thought of smaller matters in the infinite greatness of Calvary and the heavenly Jerusalem!
The conclusion of the whole matter is this: The churches of America, the Christians of America, need the baptism of the Holy Ghost:—
To keep alive the aspiration for holiness. If we aspire to that, if we hunger and thirst for God, what do we want of a little paltry amusement in our church? It is irrelevant; it is a trial to us. "Take these things hence."
To bring out Christ before us—on his cross. The Spirit of God must clear the air so that we shall see the cross more clearly, and know what it means, and glory in Christ and him crucified.
To make us live in Christ, and thus seek the conversion of souls. Fault-finding one, complaining that the church is "unsocial," be ashamed! Bury thy petty spirit, and begin to care for the unsaved souls about thee. In work thou shalt be drawn to other workers, and find a noble, not a paltry fellowship, in doing good within Christ's glorious church!
—Rev. Chas. C. Hall, in Christian Union.
Sticking to Principle.
By Charles Haddon Spurgeon
The man who is determined that if he does build he will build securely, digs down to the rock. He says, "I believe in God, he is my helper. I believe in Christ Jesus, and on his atoning sacrifice and living intercession I build my eternal hopes. I also build on the doctrine of grace, for the Lord hath said it—By grace are ye saved, through faith. I build on Scripture; nothing but the warrant of the word will do for me." What God has said is a rock; what man teaches is mere shifting sand. What a blessed thing it is to get down to the eternal principles of divine verity! You that pick up your religion from your mothers and fathers, you that follow it because it happened to be in the family, what are you worth in the day of trouble? You are blown down like a booth, or a hut of boughs. But you that know what you believe, and why you believe it, who, when you put your foot down, know what you are standing upon, and are persuaded that you have firm rock beneath you; you are the men who will stand fast when mere pretenders are hurled out of their place. Oh, my dear seeking friends, fix upon true principles, and be not content with falsehood.
These truthful principles must be firmly adhered to. Bind your building to the rock. A house will not stand merely because it is on the rock; you must get its foundation into the rock. The house must take a grip of the rock, and the rock must grasp the house. The more you can get the house to be a bit of the rock, and the rock, as it were, to grow up into the house, the more secure you are. It is of no use saying, "Yes, I confide in Christ, in grace, in revelation," unless your very life enters into these things, and they enter into you. Hypocrites, Job says, are stolen away in the night; so easily are they removed. The inventor of some new notion comes along, cracks up his novel wares, and silly souls are at once taken in by him. Christ may go, grace may go, and the Bible may go, too; their new master has them wholly in his power. We want not such unsubstantial men; we care not for these speculating builders whose carcases are all around us. We have had enough of castles in the air; we need true men, who will stand fast like the mountains while errors, like clouds, blow over them. Remember the huge shaft at Bradford, and how many were slain by its fall, and let it teach you to hold hard to foundation truths, and never depart from them.
It is a grand thing to have a faith which cannot be shaken. I saw one day a number of beech trees which had formed a wood; they had all fallen to the ground through a storm. The fact was they leaned upon one another to a great extent, and the thickness of the wood prevented each tree from getting a firm hold of the soil. They kept each other up, and also constrained each other to grow up tall and thin, to the neglect of root-growth. When the tempest forced down the first few trees the others readily followed one after the other. Close to the same spot I saw another tree in the open, bravely defying the blast, in solitary strength. The hurricane had beaten upon it, but it had endured all its force unsheltered. That lone, brave tree seemed to be better rooted than before the storm. I thought, "Is it not so with professors?" They often hold together, and help each other to grow up, but if they have not firm personal root-hold, when a storm arises they fall in rows. A minister dies, or certain leaders are taken away, and over go the members by departure from the faith and from holiness. I would have you be self-contained, growing each man into Christ for himself, rooted and grounded in love and faith and every holy grace. Then when the worst storm that ever blew on mortal man shall come, it will be said of your faith, "It could not shake it." I beseech you who are now seeking Christ to take care that you build well, that you may stand long in our Zion, steadfast and unmovable.
—Spurgeon.
Jewish Sabbath-breaking.
The Jewish Times takes a firm stand for the strict observance of the Sabbath, and endeavors to stop the tendency to looseness in religious matters among the Jews. Of the success which will attend its efforts we may judge from the following statement of the present condition of things, made in its issue of May 4:—
It is a clear fact to any unprejudiced mind that the observance of the Sabbath cuts but a small figure in the present generation; and its laxity is becoming so universal as to call for serious consideration. The orthodox of ancient proclivities, when approached on the subject, is silent if not evasive, and when inclined to be communicative, shields himself from a neglect of its observance by such answers as would mantle the cheek of any intelligent person, with a blush of shame. Simmered down to a simple proposition, he yields all his religious principles and belief to gratify his avarice for the accumulation of money.
The reformed Israelite of another school, takes a different stand-point, and views religious observances as a relic of the dark ages. With him it is business before religion, and no holiday is considered worthy of observance that interferes with business arrangements. He is, in fact, a batch of inconsistencies. With all his lax ideas of religion he may be found contributing his mite to the support of synagogues, charities, and everything that tends as a prop to Judaism, but his moral support is withheld. On the Yom Kippur he may be seen outside the synagogue, ridiculing all the rites which he is helping to maintain; and were it not for the fact of his being well known, also that the indelible mark with which nature has stamped him cannot be concealed, he would be too happy to pass for a Christian.
The Revolt Against Law.
By J. S. Gilbert
The Greek word for sin denotes lawlessness. Lawlessness is a very marked characteristic of the present age. Everywhere we see this revolt against law. It begins in the family. In very many families there is no obedience to parents and no respect for age. The same spirit is manifested in the public schools. Is it any wonder that when these boys and girls grow up they have very little regard for law of any kind? Thus on every hand we see the manifestations of the spirit of lawlessness. Children do not wish to obey their parents, nor pupils their teachers. Great numbers hold in contempt the laws of the land; and even in the church there is very little by way of a healthful discipline. In Europe the very air is charged with sedition and revolt: nihilism in Russia, socialism in Germany, conspiracy and murder in Ireland, the red flag in France. Surely these are ominous signs of the times.
Many speak of law as though it was the enemy of all freedom. They forget that law is the very foundation of all society and life. Freedom is not anarchy nor liberty universal license. If nature were not governed by fixed laws, we could never sow with any confidence, or go forth to harvest with any certainty. Society without law would soon degenerate into barbarism. The body, the soul, and spirit of man are all governed by fixed laws. If we violate these laws we must suffer the penalty. In seeking to free themselves from law, men subject themselves to the severest bondage. There is no despotism worse than that of a mob. Witness the awful scenes of the French Revolution! Yet we have very little hope that these sober thoughts and undeniable facts will prevail. The disease has gone too far. Lawlessness is a peculiar feature of the last times. Only by the coming of Him “whose right it is to reign,” will the lawless spirit be subdued.
Look where you will, the skies are dark and lowering. In all Europe there cannot be found one throne that does not already begin to totter. Even in this, the first Government in all the earth, there are many that cannot abide the ordinary laws that govern and punish crime.
The issue is certain. Law must prevail. Man cannot free himself from all control. How will the conflict end, and when? We believe that it will end in the overthrow of all oppression, but the complete triumph of all true law; and this overthrow of the one and this triumph of the other will take place when He comes “whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom.”—Rev. J. S. Gilbert, Methodist, in Messiah's Herald.
The Effects of Modern Skepticism
The effects of modern skepticism, especially as indulged in by young men who do not know how to take the first deep soundings of a passage of thought, are as pitiful as the conceit of a sea-gull who, having dipped its wings in the briny deep, seeks the upper currents of air, firmly believing that it knows all about salt water.
Honor Belongs to the Useful
THOSE are the most honorable who are the most useful.
Influence of Family Worship.
THERE are professors of religion who find frequent excuses for omitting family worship. I had a neighbor of that sort who had worship in his house only on Sunday. He has two sons; one is a drunkard and the other a loafer. Some people omit evening worship because they have company to tea. I lived in a little seaport on the coast of Maine in a house where a generous hospitality was dispensed. Some of our neighbors were shipmasters, and when one of them was on the point of departing on a long voyage, he and his wife and a few other neighbors were invited to tea. At the usual hour we had evening worship, and God's care, protection, and help in peril were especially asked for the captain about to sail. The ship of one of these captains foundered in mid-ocean, many days' sail from the nearest land. The ship's company took to the boats, and reached land after many days. The captain, who was not a religious man, said to me, "I thought of your father's prayer; it helped me, gave me courage, and made me feel sure we would get safe to land."
In my childhood it was common for a family, the head of which was going to sea, to ask for the prayers of the church that God would bring back the husband and father in safety; and on his return public prayer of thanksgiving was offered the next Sunday. Do they do so now? and if not, why not?
The influence of family worship is fairly illustrated in three families that came to Maine from Massachusetts many years ago. Of the three brothers two were merchants and one a physician. All these were professors of religion. In the families of the merchants family worship was observed as regularly as the rising and setting of the sun. In the family of the medical man it was not so. There were times when for months morning worship was observed, but for the most part an extensive practice was an excuse for omitting it altogether. The older sons were skeptics, and the eldest daughter is one today, though she has been a member of a church. So much for the family of the medical man. Each of the merchants' families produced a minister of the gospel, men who have been useful in their calling, and whose names are recorded in Dr. Cathcart's Baptist Encyclopedia.
I do not know that the difference between these three families can be referred to the observance of family worship in two of them, but it has always seemed so to me, and I do not know what else to refer it to. The wives in these three families were excellent Christian women.—Christian Mirror.
Alcohol Is Poison
By Healdsburg Flag
If one should accidentally drink any unknown fluid that would quicken his pulse, flash waves of heat and cold alternately over his body, shake his nerves, obscure his vision, cause ringing in his ears, produce palpitation, dizziness, nausea, coruscations, benumb the voluntary muscles, confuse the thoughts, depress the will, exalt the passions, and lower the vitality of the whole organism, he would demand a stomach pump (if he had enough sense left to apprehend what he needed), knowing that he was poisoned; but if the fluid be only called alcohol, these dreadful symptoms of poisoning become evidences of having a good time, and the man who denies the "evidences" is a "temperance fanatic!"—Healdsburg Flag.