Earlier text: OUR DIVINE SUFFICIENCY“SOWING AND REAPING.”
By Helen A. Raines
“I wish you would go into some other business,” said Mrs. Guthrie to her husband at the dinner table. “I am tired of feeling that we are a menace to this community.” “A menace to the community! How absurd you talk, Emily!” said her husband, his brow darkening. “I thought you understood when we came to this mining town I came here with the avowed purpose of furnishing supplies to the miners.” “I certainly did not understand, Carl, that furnishing supplies meant beer and ale, as well as provision for their families—tea, coffee, sugar, and such like.” “Probably not. You may not know that I sell six glasses of beer to one sack of flour or one package of coffee. But I do, thereby doubling my money. I call myself a provident man, and expect to look out for my own household. I would like to know where the luxuries you and Blanche have always been used to would come from if I didn’t.” “I don’t care for them purchased in that way,” said Mrs. Guthrie, sighing; “and I am sure Blanche does not. It was only yesterday that she came home sobbing from school and begged me to let her go dressed as the children of the miners do, saying that her clothing was made a jest and byword of, as the result of your iniquitous business.” “Iniquitous business, indeed!” said Carl, reddening. “It is sanctioned by government. I will call around upon the school board this very evening and see if my child has got to be criticized and ridiculed by these coal miners’ children.” “And what is worse,” said Mrs. Guthrie, a bright spot appearing on either cheek; “it has been thrown up to her that her father was the means of Tom McCarthy’s going to the penitentiary.” Carl got up from the table hastily and went out, slamming the door after him, thereby putting a stop to the conversation. The winter set in early in this little mining town, and owing to the “hard times” the mines were all closed for the season. Then suffering10commenced in earnest. But few had the money to buy the necessities of life, and many were actually on the verge of starvation. “You see now what we would have come to if I had heard to you,” said Carl in a boastful manner to his wife one day. “I have a nice little bank account, and groceries enough to supply the spring demand, whenever the mines are in operation again.” “The end is not yet,” said Mrs. Guthrie prophetically. “But it is sure to come.” “Nonsense,” said Carl laughingly; “why will you croak?” A little later in the day she said, “Carl, did you refuse to let Ed Winthrop have a sack of flour yesterday?” “I did. He had no money. I can not let my goods out on time.” “But they have a very sick child there, one of the neighbors told me this afternoon, and the family is in a suffering condition.” “I can not help that,” said Carl. “He would spend his money for whisky last summer. He should have looked out for his family as I did for mine, then there would have been no suffering.” “Carl,” said Mrs. Guthrie solemnly, “who took his money for that which was not food and raiment? Can you make answer to an offended God for that?” But Carl was beyond hearing, and the rattle of the glasses in the front end of the building, where he sold his “supplies,” told too plainly that he had not gone out of the business. The winter deepened in intensity as it advanced. The winds raved and the snow drifted, and the miners’ wives and children crowded around their meager embers in their little shanties, cursing those who had robbed them of their sustenance. Carl came in from the store one evening very much disturbed, and took his revolver from the drawer. “There is going to be trouble, I fear,” he said, glancing at his wife and daughter. “It seems that that man Winthrop buried his child yesterday, and threatens vengeance upon us all. Keep indoors, both of you. There is no telling what an enraged set of miners may do.” Those who have watched the approach of a storm that is to leave death and devastation in its wake, who have listened to the tread of a mighty army, slow, solemn, impressive, every step bringing them nearer and nearer to their work of destruction, know how those felt who watched the seething mass of human beings that night, slowly advancing to its goal. “Give us bread! We will have bread!” echoed far and near over the frozen hills and down the wind-swept valleys. Carl, craven that he was, crouched shivering behind one of his counters, praying for mercy, while the little handful of policemen stood at the door with their Winchesters, endeavoring to keep the infuriated mob at bay. Mrs. Guthrie knelt praying, with her arms extended, in her own room, while Blanche—little fair-haired Blanche—slipped out unseen into the night, no one knew whither. No one knew when or how it happened, but a shot was fired, and when the store had been stripped of its contents, and the mob had at last been quelled and dispersed for the night, Blanche was found lying upon the floor of the upper balcony unconscious, with a bullet wound in her shoulder. She recovered in course of time, but will be a cripple to the end of her days. Carl Guthrie moved to another town, and went into “other business.” He had realized most fully that “God is not mocked,” and he “who sows to the wind will reap the whirlwind.”—Helen A. Raines, in Sabbath Recorder. DEMAND FOR GOSPEL PREACHING.
In a note last week we called attention to Mr. Moody’s appeal for Gospel preaching found in the Independent of December 24. He is stirred to make this appeal by the lack of conversions in the churches, over three thousand churches in the Presbyterian and Congregational denominations failing to report any accessions during the year 1895. Mr. Moody asks some suggestive questions as to the cause: Whether this lack of converting power is “the result of what they call the ‘modern criticism’ of the Bible? Is this a specimen of the better times when we would get rid of the old stories about Moses writing the Pentateuch, and the sun and moon standing still, and the fish swallowing Jonah? How much of all of this is owing to the politics our ministers have been preaching lately, and the talks on the labor question, and the stereopticon shows on Sunday evenings, and all these other things that have been driving out the blessed Gospel of Jesus Christ?” The Independent does not think that these things are the causes, but it to a certain extent recognizes the need of Gospel preaching, and declares that “Mr. Moody does well to be astonished and pained at the thousands of churches—3,000 in the Congregational and Presbyterian bodies alone—which reported not a single member added by profession of faith last year. It is enough to send a thrill of pain through the soul of every true Christian.” The Advance, of Chicago, says that “it is unmistakable that in some of our pulpits where culture and not regeneration is the word, where the example of Christ is preached to the exclusion of his atonement for sin, their occupants do not, in Mr. Moody’s words, ‘believe in conversions as they used to do.’” It was but a short time since that Bishop Moore, of the great Methodist Episcopal Church, editor of the Western Christian Advocate (Cincinnati), solemnly declared concerning his own people:— “The great trouble with us to-day is that the rescue of imperiled souls is our last and least consideration. Many of our congregations are conducted on the basis of social clubs. They are made centers of social influence. Membership is sought in order to advance one’s prospects in society, business, or politics. Preachers are called who know how to “Smooth down the rugged text to earn its plate,
And snugly keep damnation out of sight.” “ . . . The class books are filled with names of unconverted men and women. . . . The distinction between inside and outside is so obscure that men smile when asked to unite with the church, and sometimes tell us they find the best men outside. . . . The ax is laid at the root of the tree. The call is to repentance. God’s work must be done. If we are in the way, he will remove us.” These are solemn words. They certainly show the need of returning to the Lord and preaching the Gospel of Christ. Bishop J. P. Newman, of San Francisco, of the same church, declares “the essential thing for us is a general revival of religion. . . . My opinion is that the inspiration of such a movement must come from the religion of our Lord, the only hope of humanity, and hence the commandments and the sermon on the mount should be the daily practice and meditation of every citizen. Out of this should come the federation of all the churches without regard to sectarianism or sectionalism.” Much more might be quoted from prominent men and religious journals; but these are sufficient to establish two facts: (1) That the spiritual condition of nominal Christianity is deplorable; and (2) that its great need is a revival in religion, a revival which has its life in Jesus Christ. Now, as a complement to this recognized condition and its consequent need, we wish to present the remedy of Jesus Christ in the following message for this time:— “And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting Gospel to preach unto them that dwelt on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, and tongue, and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear God, and give glory to him, for the hour of his judgment is come; and worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters.” Rev. 14:6, 7. This is God’s message to the church and the world. It is the everlasting Gospel of God’s word. It calls from the fear of man to the fear of God, from giving glory to science, tradition, great men, and multitudes, to giving glory to God. It calls from the service of self and the world to the worship—the service (for the highest form of worship is service, Matt. 4:10)—of the great Creator of the heaven and the earth. The memorial of his creative power is his holy Sabbath. His fear and worship lead to obedience to all his—not men’s—commandments. Going with this message is the solemn announcement that the Babylon of the world’s creeds, errors, plans, schemes, devices, is fallen; and then God solemnly warns us against the worship of the beast or his image, or the reception of the great mark of apostasy. Verses 8–11. Following this great threefold message we have the description of the people of God developed by the message: “Here is the patience of the saints; here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus.” Verse 12. Not one commandment of the ten, not nine, not a perverted and mutilated copy, but all the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus. This is God’s message, his remedy for the sickness of the church. Truly he may ask, “Why is the health of the daughter of my people not recovered?” With the application by faith of this remedy there would be no need of “federations,” of outward mechanical unions; there would be manifest the blessed union for which Christ prayed. We believe in kindness to all of God's creatures; but we do believe that man is infinitely greater than the brutes. While it is proper to feed and care for the brutes so as to prevent suffering, it is humiliating indeed when the brute must be elevated so as to take the place of the human. There are those among women who take pleasure in fondling, caring for, and petting dogs of various sorts and kinds, who would be ashamed to be found with one of their own children in their arms on the street. Not long ago we noted an elaborate funeral for one of these idolized pets. We note this time a fashionable entertainment and Christmas tree, at 38 West Sixty-fourth Street, New York. This entertainment was given by a wealthy lady to her two dogs. Other dogs were invited as guests, and fashionable ladies waited on them. Supper, consisting of candy, cake, and ice-cream, was served by beautiful women in evening dress; and water was given the dogs from saucers of the finest Sevres and Limoges ware. The dogs were also entertained with quadrilles danced by women only, to the music of a chorus of women. Various presents in the way of sausages, etc., etc., were given to the pets. And thus no one knows how many dollars were spent, which might have been used to feed the poor, to entertain several idolized pets, who would have found as much or more satisfaction had they been let alone to live as God designed that dogs should live, and dogs, if they had their own choice, would prefer to live. A COURT OPENED WITH PRAYER.
Quite an innovation occurred at St. Stephens, Ala., recently. When the Circuit Court convened there was a crowded house. Col. S. B. Browne moved that the court be opened each day by prayer and by reading a chapter from the Bible. Judge Anderson granted the motion, stating that he thought it a very appropriate service. Colonel Browne volunteered to read the first chapter, which he did, choosing I Peter 1. After the reading, Solicitor Brooks led in an able petition, imploring divine direction for the court, and that justice might be done, and the county benefited by the session, closing with an earnest appeal for divine blessings upon all present. The assembly room paid respectful attention, the court standing during the prayer.—Pacific Ensign. An Anti-Sabbath Claim Refuted
HERE is an anti-Sabbath “fact” as set forth in a tract accredited to no less than five “reverends” and others: “God never blessed or sanctified the Sabbath.” Let the reader turn to Ex. 20:8-10. The other fifty-one given in the same tract are of about equal weight and veracity. THE BAIRNIES' FEET.
By Frances W. Gibson
In a street of Glasgow City,
Full of children at their play,
Stooped a woman, and then something
In her apron hid away. From the poor, plain gown, her station,
At a glance, could be descried,
But her face, despite its sweetness,
Told of honest, Scottish pride. Then a guardian of the public,
Sure some precious thing she'd found,
Bade her halt, and show the treasure
She had picked up from the ground. When her apron wide she opened,
He beheld a shining mass,
But no gold nor gems there glittered—
It was only broken glass. To the question stern, “What value
In sic-like things do ye see,
Thus to take them?” came the answer,
Full of sweet simplicity: “When I saw the bonnie bairnies
Rinnin' barefit i' the street,
The bits o' glass I lifted, fearin'
They might hurt the puir wee feet.” O, for more such Christlike spirit,
More such hearts with love replete!
Then all stumbling-blocks might vanish
That would “hurt the bairnies' feet.” It is the parent, truly remarks the Sabbath Recorder, who creates or who dissipates the atmosphere of God around the child. No one else so surrounds and environs the child, and environment is that which most surely molds the character and most perceptibly confirms it. What we want to have form in part or wholly the child’s character, we put into his immediate surroundings. Speaking to parents in reference to their children, Dr. Bushnell says, “If you will put in Christ, you must put him on.” The more truly parents put on the Spirit of Christ in their own soul and life, the more sure they may be that they will succeed in putting him into the character and the very being of their dear children. THE GRUMBLE BOX.
By Little B. Day
“Here, Nell, put in your cent; that was a big one.” “I only said the potatoes are stone cold, and it's the honest truth—they are. If that's grumbling, I'd like to know. Is that a grumble, mother?” “I rather think it is, Helen,” answered Mrs. Porter. “Some one had better read our contract again. We haven't heard it for nearly two days. You read it, Harry.” Harry took a box from the middle of the table, and read aloud:— “Each and every member of this family of Porter agrees to pay one cent into this box for each and every grumble or complaint he or she shall make about any article of food on this table. Signed, Edward Porter, Mary Porter, Harry Porter, Helen Porter, Elizabeth Porter.” “If that isn't the strangest agreement I ever read!” exclaimed Aunt Margaret, who had come in unexpectedly for lunch. “How did it ever come about?” “O, we've had it for a month or more, now, and the box is nearly full!” said Helen. “For the first day or two cents just poured in; but now father can eat salt butter and drink weak coffee without a word. He's almost heroic. Mother always was a martyr; nothing but tough beefsteak ever made her complain, and she will swallow shoe-leather now and smile. I suppose Harry and Bess and I are to fill the box; we're no saints, yet.” “But,” said Aunt Margaret, “you haven't told me why you began to have a grumble box.” “I'll tell you,” said Mrs. Porter. “Don't you remember some of the times you have been here to lunch or to dinner when everything was wrong on the table? The soup was either too hot or too cold; the beef was overdone; the vegetables either too salt or not salt enough; the bread was dry or the toast was burnt. Sometimes we didn't even have the right kind of dessert. If there was pie, every one longed for custard or cream.” “I've known such things to happen in other people's houses, too.” “So have I,” said Mrs. Porter; “but don't you remember, too, the little blessing father so often asks before meals: ‘O Lord, for the food that thou hast given us, give us grateful hearts.’ We would bow our heads and listen, and then grumble over every mouthful.” “You didn't, mother; you never did. It was the rest of us.” “Well,” continued Mrs. Porter, “one beautiful morning we all went to church, and heard an unusually good sermon. Then we came home and sat down to a very good dinner; but it was worse than ever, and before we left the table, father stopped us and said: ‘I've been thinking, children, it would be just as well not to ask a blessing on the food any longer. We have such poor things to eat we can not feel grateful.’” “I tell you, that took the breath out of us!” said Harry. “Yes, but it opened our eyes,” said Helen. “We couldn't believe that we found so much fault with everything.” “It was father who thought of the box,” said Harry. “He said it would help us keep a good resolution if we had to pay for breaking it.” “I've got some pennies in it, too,” said little Bess, “‘cause I've cried for more sugar on my oatmeal.” “And what are you going to do with the money when the box is filled?” asked Aunt Margaret. “We don't know yet what kind of heathen are to have it,” answered Harry. “Chinese, Siamese, Japanese, Indian, or plain American; it will go from heathen to heathen.” Aunt Margaret rose to take her departure. “Must you go, Margaret?” asked Mrs. Porter. “I am so glad you came in for lunch. I am only sorry we did not have a better meal to offer you.” “A cent, mother! a cent from you!” exclaimed the children. “That's a genuine out-and-out grumble.” And Mrs. Porter laughingly slipped a coin into the grumble box.—Little B. Day, in S. S. Times. STEPS TO HEALTH.
By E. H. Mathewson
As WATER is such an important agent, it is surely important to use the best drinking-water we can obtain. Should we not have opportunity to have our water supply tested by experts, we can easily take certain precautions which will render it safe to use. It is not always the water that is clear, cool, and refreshing that is fit to drink. Great care should be used that the water does not come from a poor source, as from near the surface, or does not become infected from drainage of cellars, cesspools, and the like. If the water is distilled, all impurities are removed, and the next best thing is to boil or sterilize it. The water should not only be boiled for 15 to 30 minutes, but should then be kept in a cool and well-covered place. Hard water is objectionable on account of the large amount of different mineral salts which it contains. The more of these salts water contains the less poisons it is capable of dissolving. The softer the water, therefore, the more valuable it will be to us, and the pores of the skin and other eliminative organs will be kept in a proper condition. Besides, the water we drink helps as well to form the different cells as to wash the body out; so it is as true that we are made of what we drink as of what we eat. PATERNAL affection, says the London News, is not perhaps the precise emotion that we should be disposed to look for in the cold-blooded frog. But the Surinam toad—of which no less than ten specimens have just arrived at the Zoo—appears to exhibit the praiseworthy attitude of mind toward his numerous progeny. When his mate lays her eggs, the solicitous father places them carefully upon her back, where in due time their presence causes an irritation that produces numerous small holes, into which the eggs forthwith drop. In these cells, which, from mutual pressure, get to be hexagonal, like honeycomb, the young frogs are finally hatched, and for a bit scramble about their mother's back, hiding in their nurseries when danger threatens, until old enough to more generally care for themselves. SOME scientists from Winona, Miss., have investigated a remarkable cave mentioned by Jonathan Carver, one of the first explorers in the northwest. The cave is near Lamoille, 16 miles south of Winona. The entrance is semicircular, 50 feet wide, and at the highest point 20 feet high. There is a large room 100 feet long and about 70 feet wide, the walls of which are covered with Indian hieroglyphics and drawings of animals, birds, and reptiles. The island of Yezo, north of Japan, or Hakkaido, as the Japanese call it, says Sarah E. Wilcox, in the Housekeeper, is inhabited by a strange people, distinguished from other races by a peculiar hairy growth which covers their bodies. Though this is possibly exaggerated, and sometimes denied, we have the testimony of travelers who have visited the island and become familiar with its inhabitants. Several years ago a noted English woman, Miss Isabella Bird (now Mrs. Isabella Bird-Bishop), while traveling in Japan, determined to visit the island and verify or disprove the statements made concerning this people. On horseback, attended only by a Japanese guide, she traversed dense forests, climbed steep mountains, crossed bogs and ravines, was borne over swift-flowing rivers, to reach the lonely mountain country where dwelt these “hairy Ainos,” and upon which the foot of a white woman had never rested. More recently J. H. Savage-Landor spent some time upon the island, and his description of the people confirms the statements made by Miss Bird. She found them gentle and inoffensive, courteous and hospitable. The skin of the men is of a dark olive tint, and is usually, not invariably, covered with short bristling black hair, more especially abundant upon the arms and legs. In boys, this sometimes has the appearance of fur. Miss Bird says she saw boys whose backs were covered with fur as soft and silky as that of a cat. Children of five or six years of age wear no clothing, and men do not always, as she was ferried across a river by a man whose only covering was short black hair. The men are short, broad-shouldered, thick-set, with very short necks and limbs, and striking physiognomy. Profuse masses of coal-black hair, parted in the middle, fall nearly to the shoulders. The beard is very black and heavy, sometimes commencing underneath the eyes. Miss Bird thus describes a chief: “Benri is a typical Aino; he is a little over five feet high, has a prominent forehead, small ears set low, short nose, wide mouth, and thin lips. A heavy wavy black beard ripples over his hairy chest nearly to his waist. Profuse masses of black hair rest upon his shoulders; he looks a veritable savage were it not for his deep-set, dreamy eyes, with their long, silken lashes, his sweet smile when he speaks, displaying small and beautifully white teeth.” Untanned skins and coarse garments made from the inner bark of trees form the clothing of men and women. The women weave this prepared bark on a rude loom fashioned with a knife. Clothing is never removed after having been donned until past wearing. They wear neither sandals nor shoes, save rude moccasins when on hunting expeditions. Bathing is unknown. A Japanese woman took an Aino woman into her home, and insisted on her taking a bath. On visiting the bathroom to ascertain the cause of her prolonged absence, she found the woman sitting stolidly in the water with all her clothes upon her person. The Aino women are short, with noticeably small heads and faces; heavy masses of hair, as with the men, fall to the shoulders. The mouth is broad, and the breadth apparently increased by wide tattoo lines which encircle it. Mr. Landor speaks of having seen women with these lines extending from this circle to the ear on either side. This tattooing gives to faces of the women a more peculiar expression, if possible, than that of the men. Hands and feet are small, and both are disfigured with blue lines and bars. The tattooing process is commenced when girls are very young, and is described by Miss Bird, who witnessed the operation performed on a little girl of five years. A woman took a very sharp knife and quickly cut several horizontal lines on the upper and under lips, following the curve of the mouth, and united the lines at the corners. Into these cuts, before the bleeding ceased, she rubbed soot taken from the bottom of a fire-pan. In two or three days the fearfully swollen and inflamed lips were bathed with a decoction of bark which gave a blue color to the lines when healed. The little girl clasped her hands tightly, and uttered no sound when cut, nor when the soot, with no gentle hand, was pressed into the bleeding wounds. No girl can be married until mouth, hands, and arms have been tattooed. Tattooing has since been prohibited by the Japanese Government, but so wedded are the Ainos to the custom, it is said not to be strictly enforced. There is little variety in their food, and but two meals a day are eaten. Miss Bird spent several days in the rude huts of these people, eating and sleeping under their steep thatched roofs, and although previously provided with edibles, did not altogether refuse the hospitality of the natives. Stews are made in large iron pans containing water, into which are indiscriminately thrown wild roots, beans, mushrooms, slugs, pieces of dried fish, venison, bear’s meat, stale fish oil, in fact, anything and everything obtainable that can be eaten. The contents of the pan are stirred and stewed several hours, and then eaten with chop-sticks. A thick soup is also made from a putty-like clay which is found in some parts of the island. Mr. Landor says the Ainos have no literature, books, nor writing; and not one in a hundred can count five even with the aid of his fingers. They do not know their ages, have no methods of computing time, and claim descent from a dog. Houses and persons swarm with vermin, and they have little thought, apparently, beyond an animal existence, yet they are courteous to each other, hospitable, truthful, and honest. Old age is respected, children obey their parents, and women are well treated. They have one vice which makes them kin to civilized nations, drunkenness. To become beastly intoxicated is a virtue, not a vice, and believed to be most pleasing to the gods. A future life appears to find no place in their thoughts. In a vague, indefinite way they may be said to worship the sun, moon, and animals, especially the bear. They have a yearly bear feast which can scarcely be called religious. In every Aino village may be seen a tall pole crowned with the skull of a bear. On no pretext will man or woman go near a grave, for all have a great terror of death. “No dream of Paradise ever lights for the Aino the ‘Stygian shades,’ in this lonely land he lives and dies, without God and without hope in the world.” IF WE HAD BUT A DAY.
By Mary Lowe Dickinson
We should fill the hours with the sweetest things,
If we had but a day;
We should drink alone at the purest springs
In our upward way;
We should love with a lifetime's love in an hour,
If the hours were few;
We should rest, not for dreams, but for fresher power
To be and to do. We should guide our wayward or wearied wills
By the clearest light;
We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hills
If they lay in sight.
We should trample the pride and the discontent
Beneath our feet;
We should take whatever a good God sent
With a trust complete. We should waste no moments in weak regret,
If the day were but one,
If what we remember and what we forget
Went out with the sun;
We should be from our clamorous selves set free
To work or to pray,
And to be what the Father would have us be,
If we had but a day.
—Mary Lowe Dickinson. FIVE members were added to the church in Alameda, Cal., on the 9th inst. IN Battle Creek, Mich., nineteen persons were added to the church about Christmas time. ELDER W. W. PRESCOTT has returned from his missionary tour of the world, and is now at Battle Creek, Mich. THE papers of Boise City, Idaho, make favorable mention of the work our people are doing in that city in behalf of the poor. ELDER W. C. WHITE is expected to arrive in San Francisco about the 14th inst., en route from Australia to the General Conference, at College View, Neb. ELDER F. D. STARR reports the baptism of two persons at Springfield, Ky., and three at Memphis, Tenn. At the latter place a church organization was effected. TWO MISSIONARIES, Brother and Sister Frost, have recently gone to the island of Jamaica, W. I. At last report, Brother Frost was making a tour of the island in quest of a suitable place to locate. AT St. John's, island of Antigua, Elder E. Van Deusen notes the baptism of four sisters, making a company of fourteen at that place. At Grace Bay, fifteen miles distant, there are eight others. ELDER J. N. LOUGHBOROUGH reports a general meeting held by him and Elder Conradi with the nine companies in the eastern part of Prussia, near the Russian line. In the audience three languages were represented—German, Polish, and Livonian. FROM Elder G. B. Tripp's report to the Review of the situation in Matabeleland, we have the sad announcement that their mission oxen which had been saved from the Matabele insurrection have all died of the rinderpest. This leaves them without any team, and they were putting in a small crop with hoes. The natives were in a starving condition, and begging for food. They readily ate the cattle that died of disease. The missionaries were living upon boiled corn and corn-meal mush, but they express a determination to stand by the field. Brother Tripp appeals to the brethren and sisters of America, and says: “If it were possible, I would gladly transmit some of these appeals, groans, and tears to you, just as they come to us, as an appeal for this field, believing they would fill the missionary boxes and inspire a zeal such as is not always manifested. The truth of God’s word alone can give to these poor souls permanent relief. Shall they not have it, and have it soon?” Parents are pleading for our missionaries to take their children for life. THE NEW HEALTH PAPER.
By John Harvey Kellogg
For years we have felt the need of some medium by which we could more directly reach our people with instruction pertaining to health principles. From time to time physicians from our different sanitariums have visited a few of the leading camp-meetings, and the report has always been that the people were deeply interested in the subject presented, and were anxious to learn more. Good Health circulates chiefly outside of our denomination, and for obvious reasons is not altogether a suitable medium for presenting many important questions relating to this subject as they should be presented to our people. These and various other reasons have led to the development of a plan for the publication of a new paper expressly intended for circulation among Seventh-day Adventists as a medium of presenting the various phases of this subject, which is recognized as of increasing importance at the present time. The editorial corps will include our leading physicians. The first number, which will appear early in January, will contain articles by Mrs. E. G. White, Dr. Kress, Dr. Paulson, Dr. Winnegar, and others. The aim will be to make all articles in the journal short, practical, and to the point, just what people need to enable them to make a practical application of health principles to their personal habits and their home life. Mrs. Dr. Kress, Mrs. Kellogg, and others, will contribute articles relating to the care of children. A department will be devoted to instruction in simple methods of treatment, with special reference to Christian help work, and the home treatment of the sick. The journal will be a sixteen-page monthly, same size as the Medical Missionary, and will be published at the small price of 40 cents a year, provided a subscription list of not less than five thousand can be obtained. It ought to find its way into every Seventh-day Adventist family. Subscriptions should be sent to the Good Health Publishing Co., Battle Creek, Mich., immediately. J. H. KELLOGG.