Two men were conversing at the close of a meeting. One seemed to be making excuses, as though we were too particular on some points. Said the other, "We must consider how God regards sin. If one sin involved the whole race in ruin, how must God regard the condition of the race in their multitude of sins? How does he look upon our daily sins?"
A great error prevails in regard to God's estimate of the nature and desert of sin. Many seem to think that sin is easily set aside now, since Christ has died; that God does not greatly abhor it, if we only have faith in Christ. This laxity of morality and disregard of the precept of the law because of faith in Christ, is a perversion of the gospel, and a standing reproach to the cause of Christianity. Jesus said that his coming into the world removed all cloak or excuse for sin. Paul regarded it as impossible to escape if we neglect so great salvation as is brought to us in the gospel. That is, our sins are more inexcusable and blame-worthy now than if Jesus had not died. The sinner now not only tramples on the holy law of God, but he despises the blood of the covenant of grace. Violation of the law is rebellion against the authority of God: neglect of the gospel is adding to that rebellion by the abuse of his mercy. By the first the justice of God is dishonored; by the second his love is trampled under foot.
We learn somewhat of God's hatred of sin by his dealing with Adam, and with the race of which Adam was the head. But if we wish to know more fully how God abhors sin, we must go to Gethsemane and to Calvary. See Jesus in his agony praying that if it be possible the bitter cup may pass from him. Behold him on the cross, as he cries out in the anguish of his soul, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Why did he endure all this? Because his Father's law had been transgressed, and he was "magnifying the law and making it honorable" (Isa. 42:21), by suffering its desert, that God "may be just, and the justifier of him who believeth in Jesus." Rom. 3:26.
O sinner, if the blessed Son of God thus suffered because sin was laid upon him for the sake of man, how will you appear before God in the Judgment with your many sins upon your head?
"Will you see him bleed in vain?
Still to death pursue your Lord?
Open tear those wounds again?
Trample on his precious blood?"
"Shall we sin that grace may abound? God forbid." "He that sinneth is the servant of sin." Jesus came—not as the minister of sin, but the minister of righteousness—to save his people from their sins; to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. To put away whose sin? Not his own, for he had none. Does he, can he, put away our sin if we continue to sin?
His heart is yet grieved by the reproach put upon his Father's law by the transgressor, and by the carnal professor who seeks to "make void the law through faith." Blessed Saviour, help us to follow thee in thy love to do the Father's will; to be fully reconciled, so that we may "delight in the law of God after the inward man."
Watch, for the Time Is Short
"WATCH, for the time is short."
The United States in Prophecy.
By Uriah Smith
(Continued.)
“OUR growth in population has been steadily increased by immigration from Europe. It began very moderately after the Revolution. From 1784 to 1794 the average number of immigrants a year was 4,000. During the last ten years the number of persons who have emigrated to the United States from Europe is estimated at over 2,000,000, who brought with them, in the aggregate, $200,000,000 in money. This capital, and the productive labor of the immigrants, have added much to the wealth of our country. This emigration and wealth is less than during the ten years preceding the civil war, during which time there came to this country from Europe 2,814,554 persons, bringing with them an average of at least $100, or an aggregate of over $281,000,000.
“Associations have been formed for improvements in the Arts of Design. The first was organized in Philadelphia in 1791, by C. W. Peale, in connection with Ceracchi, the Italian sculptor. It failed. In 1802 the American Academy of Fine Arts was organized in the city of New York, and in 1807 the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, yet in existence, was established in Philadelphia. In 1826 the American Academy of Fine Arts was superseded by the National Academy of Design, in the city of New York, which is now a flourishing institution.
“In education and literature our progress has kept pace with other things. At the very beginning of settlements, the common school was made the special care of the State in New England. Not so much attention was given to this matter elsewhere in the Colonies. The need of higher institutions of learning was early felt; and eighteen years after the landing of the Pilgrims from the May-flower, Harvard College was founded. When the war of independence began there were nine colleges in the Colonies, namely, Harvard, at Cambridge, Mass.; William and Mary, at Williamsburg, Va.; Yale, at New Haven, Conn.; College of New Jersey, at Princeton; University of Pennsylvania, at Philadelphia; King's (now Columbia) in the city of New York; Brown University, at Providence, R. I.; Dartmouth, at Hanover, N. H.; and Rutgers, at New Brunswick, N. J. There are now about 300 colleges in the United States.
“At the period of the Revolution, teaching in the common schools was very meager, and remained so for full thirty years. Only reading, spelling, and arithmetic, were regularly taught. The Psalter, the New Testament, and the Bible, constituted the reading-books. No history was read; no geography or grammar was taught; and until the putting forth of Webster's spelling-book in 1783, pronunciation was left to the judgment of teachers. That book produced a revolution.
“In the year 1801, a new impetus was given to the book trade by the formation of the American Company of Booksellers—a kind of ‘union.’ Twenty years later competition broke up the association. Before the war of 1812 the book trade in the United States was small. School books only had very large sales. Webster's Spelling-book was an example of the increasing demand for such helps to education. During the twenty years he was engaged on his dictionary, the income from his Spelling-book supported him and his family. It was published in 1783, and its sales have continually increased to the present time, when they amount to over 1,000,000 copies a year. Other school books of every kind now have an immense annual circulation.
“The printing-press, at the time of the Revolution, is shown in that used by Franklin, in which the pressure force was obtained by means of a screw. The ink was applied by huge balls; and an expert workman could furnish about fifty impressions an hour. This was improved by Earl Stanhope in 1815, by substituting for the screw a jointed lever. Then came inking machines, and one man could work off 250 copies an hour. Years passed and the cylinder press was invented; and in 1847 it was perfected by Richard M. Hoe of New York. This has been further improved lately, and a printing-press is now used which will strike off 15,000 newspapers printed on both sides every hour.
“The newspapers printed in the United States at the beginning of the Revolution were few in number, small in size, and very meager in information of any kind. They were issued weekly, semi-weekly, and tri-weekly. The first daily newspaper issued in this country was the American Daily Advertiser, established in Philadelphia in 1784. In 1775 there were 37 newspapers and periodicals in the United States, with an aggregate issue that year of 1,200,000 copies. In 1870 the number of daily newspapers in the United States was 542; and of weeklies, 4,425. Of the dailies, 800,000,000 were issued that year; of the weeklies, 600,000,000, and of other serial publications 100,000,000, making an aggregate of full 1,500,000,000 copies. To these figures should be made a large addition at the close of 1875. There are now about forty newspapers in the United States which have existed over fifty years.
“One of the most conspicuous examples of the growth of our republic is represented by the postal service. Dr. Franklin had been Colonial Postmaster General, and he was appointed to the same office for one year by the Continental Congress in the summer of 1775. He held the position a little more than a year, and at the end of its official term there were about 50 post-offices in the United States. All the accounts of the General Post-office Department during that period were contained in a small book consisting of about two quires of foolscap paper, which is preserved in the Department at Washington City. Through the gloomy years of the weak Confederacy, the business of the Department was comparatively light; and when the national government began its career in 1789 there were only about seventy-five post-offices, with an aggregate length of post-roads of about 1,900 miles. The annual income was $28,000, and the annual expenditures $32,000. The mails were carried by postmen on horseback, and sometimes on foot. Now the number of post-offices is over 23,000; the aggregate length of post-roads is 256,000 miles; the annual revenue, $23,000,000, and the annual expenditures $29,000,000.”
The following paragraphs which are going the rounds of the papers just now present a good summary of the success “Brother Jonathan” has achieved thus far in his career:—
“Brother Jonathan commenced business in 1776, with thirteen States and 815,615 square miles of territory, which was occupied by about 3,000,000 of civilized human beings. He has now a family of 43,000,000, who occupy thirty-seven States and nine Territories, which embrace over 3,000,000 of square miles. He has 65,000 miles of railroad, more than sufficient to reach twice and a half round the globe. The value of his annual agricultural productions is $2,500,000,000, and his gold mines are capable of producing $70,000,000 a year. He has more than 1000 cotton factories, 580 daily newspapers, 4300 weeklies, and 625 monthly publications. He has also many other things too numerous and too notorious to mention.”
“The United States of America issue more newspapers, in number and in aggregate circulation, than all the rest of the world combined. They outnumber the press of Great Britain six to one, and have nearly half a dozeu daily papers which print more copies every issue than does the London Times.”
And nature herself, by the physical features she has stamped upon our country, has seemed to lay it out as a field for national development on the most magnificent scale. Here we have the largest lakes, the longest rivers, the mightiest cataracts, the deepest caves, the broadest and most fertile prairies, and the richest mines of gold and iron and coal and copper, to be found upon the globe. “When America was discovered, there were but sixty millions of gold in Europe. California and the Territories round her have produced one thousand millions of dollars in gold in twenty years. Sixty one million dollars was the largest annual gold yield ever made in Australia. California has several times produced ninety millions of gold in a year.” (Townsend, p. 384.)
“The area of workable coal beds in all the world outside the United States is estimated at 26,000 square miles. That of the United States, not including Alaska, is estimated at over 200,000 square miles, or eight times as large as the available coal area of all the rest of the globe!” (American Year Book for 1869, p. 655.) “The iron product and manufacture of the United States has increased enormously within the last few years, and the vast beds of iron convenient to coal in various parts of the Union are destined to make America the chief source of supply for the world.” “Three mountains of solid iron [in Missouri], known as Iron Mountain, Pilot Knob, and Shepherd's Mountain, are among the most remarkable natural curiosities on our continent.” (Id. p. 654.)
(To be Continued.) U. S.
A Light Is Approaching.
By John G. Matteson
IT is not the light of a friendly star, neither the gentle rays of the silvery moon, nor the more brilliant rays of the sun in his splendor. It is the lurid glare of the devouring fire—the awful luster of the everlasting burnings. Isa. 33:14.
How fearful the destruction of villages and cities by the all-devouring element. How awful the convulsions of a trembling earth swallowing up man and beast, opening and shutting in fearful commotion. Terrible was the raging of the watery element in which the ancient world did perish. But more terrible—a world on fire!
“Sinners in Zion are afraid. Fearfulness hath surprised the hypocrites. Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?” The sky is ablaze with lightnings. Fearful thunders shake the air. The earth trembles. The foundations of the mountains are on fire. The hot lava pours forth like mighty cataracts. Yonder sinks into the fiery stream a great and populous city. Its costly towers tumble into ruins. The mirth and pleasure have ceased. The vain conversation is hushed in silence. Hear the frantic shrieks of despair from thousands of unhappy creatures who obeyed not the gospel of our Lord. Their wailing and weeping is more faint. Now they are silent.
The lake of fire rushes on. Now it is on my right and left. Behind me the way is closed up, and before me is nothing but darkness. Whither shall I flee? Now my fine farm and costly dwellings are to be devoured. I labored hard to satisfy my soul below, and obtain what my heart desired. I was successful. Alas, my success proves my greatest failure. I intended also to have a treasure in Heaven—treasure in Heaven!—oh! I have no treasure in Heaven. I intended to do something for the Lord in the future, but now it is too late, too late!
Here is my poor family. What shall I do for them? I did not take time to pray with them, or read to them. I was not very anxious to take them to the meeting or Sabbath-school. I have lost my interest in the kingdom, and they never had any. Oh! I remember—once my heart was touched with love divine. The warning was faithfully given. What a kind invitation I had to come to Jesus! I sought him. I found sweetness in his precious truth. The hope of immortality looked good to me. Alas! the world, the world came between me and my Saviour. I neglected such great salvation. Mercy lingers no longer. The faithful messenger warns me no more. The summer is past, the harvest is ended. Oh! what shall I do? I remember my past sins—I see them one by one. What a miserable wretch I am! How I have sinned against God, and my fellow-men, and my family—oh! my poor family!
I see yonder a glorified company. The mighty power of God shields them against these awful burnings. There is that poor brother whom I never thought much of. Yet I remember his earnest prayers. I remember how foolishly he would often divide the last he had with those who were more needy than himself. Often he would give to what he called the cause of God. I see angels and saints, an innumerable company. Where are they going, I wonder? Perhaps to the heavenly city. Yes, they are going to live with Jesus forever. Eternal life! precious gift of God! Can not I have eternal life? Must I perish here?—Perish without hope, in dark despair? Not one glimmering ray of hope? Not one?
Oh! that terrible voice: “Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels.” Cursed be the day that I was born. Cursed be my folly and sin. I must die. I must lose honor, glory, and immortality—eternal life.
Is this a dream? Oh, no! Fearful realities, foretold by the never-erring word of prophecy, soon to be realized by thousands of poor deceived professors, who shall say: Lord, Lord, open unto us. But the Lord says: “Depart from me, ye that work iniquity.”
Dear reader, let us well consider the end of the race, and work out our own salvation with fear and trembling. Be not satisfied until God's Spirit bears witness with your spirit that you are his child, until the dear Lord shall smile to you through your penitent tears. Seek daily a new consecration to God and his work. Daily hold sweet communion with Jesus. Lay up your treasure above, and soon you will reap a rich reward.
JOHN G. MATTESON.
Open Rebuke Better Than Secret Love
OPEN rebuke is better than secret love.
Our Wants and Our Work.
"I WOULD like to have a real work to do, somewhere in this world," said Emily Gray, coming in from the missionary meeting one Saturday afternoon.
"You don't mean to turn missionary, do you, Em?" exclaimed her brother Arthur, looking up from his books in sudden wonder as he spoke.
"N—no, I don't want to go away from home entirely," said Emily, doubtfully. "But I wish I could have some great, glorious work to do—something that could employ all my energies and yet leave me with you, mamma, dear," and she turned to her mother as she spoke.
Mrs. Gray smiled first and sighed afterwards. The smile was for her young daughter's enthusiasm—the sigh for her want of purpose and steadiness. But she only said pleasantly, "There is work ever ready and waiting for us all, dear, if we will but take it up."
Emily looked impatient and a little scornful.
"I've heard all that so often," she answered quickly, "and I don't think it has anything to do with me. What I want is, as I said first, a real, great work, something plainly marked out and just adapted to me—involving toil and sacrifice, no doubt, but bearing fruit so abundantly that I should be cheered and comforted through all my sacrifices."
"Upon my word, mother, Em. is thinking of joining the missionaries, I know she is!" cried Arthur, with a look of well-acted alarm. "If I were you, mother, I'd shut her up till the fever passes off, for we can't let her go, you know."
"Don't be absurd, Arthur, I'm talking to mamma, and I wish you wouldn't interrupt," said his sister, and Mrs. Gray added in a different tone:—
"Don't tease, my boy; Emily is too much in earnest to like it, and I quite appreciate her desire to be useful."
"Well then, I'll help her to be useful," replied Arthur with more gravity. "Here is a piece of work. Look at this frightful rent in my 'Athletic Club' uniform jacket, Emily. Can't you mend it before Monday afternoon, sis? You'll have the satisfaction of doing a hard thing then."
And Arthur laughed again as he held out the dilapidated jacket. But Emily looked annoyed, and made no answer until her brother had left the room. Then turning to her mother she said more earnestly than ever:—
"You do understand me, don't you mamma? You know that I am capable of effort, and that I would not hesitate at any hardship in the way of my duty. Only, I want something better than that round of daily drudgeries—this darning and patching for Arthur and the boys, or making puddings and cakes, or keeping the little ones quiet—it is all so tiresome, and it has to be done right over again day after day."
"That has been the experience of all life's duties, my child," said Mrs. Gray gently. "They must be done right over again, day after day as you say, and in that very repetition is found the education they give us. Patience, thoroughness, system, all these and more, we learn through the monotonous routine of every day cares and duties. I am quite sure that—but hark! was not that Bridget's voice? I told her to call me when the fire was good, for I must preserve those plums this afternoon. I'm afraid they won't keep till Monday," and Mrs. Gray folded up her work, and took her large apron out of the closet as she talked.
Emily heard her mother's words with a sharp, uneasy consciousness that there was something for her to do if she chose. But she hated "kitchen work," as she called everything in the way of cooking, and though she was fond of inviting company to enjoy the dainties of their well-spread table, she was always unwilling to assist in the preparation of those dainties. So now, as usual, she silenced her conscience as it whispered that her mother was tired and needed help, and taking up the book which she was reading just then—"Society and Solitude," chose a comfortable chair and was soon deep in enjoyment of Emerson.
An hour passed unnoted, and then a sudden hubbub arose. The door of the sitting-room flew open, and Jack, Emily's second brother, aged twelve, appeared with a pale face and a hand streaming with blood.
"Oh! Em, can't you help me?" began the boy; "won't you get some rags or salve or something, quick! My, how it bleeds!" winding his pocket handkerchief closer as he spoke. But Emily only covered her face with her hands and screamed:—
"Oh, Jack, how dreadful! Go to mamma, do, I can't bear the sight of blood, it makes me sick, and you'll bleed to death, I'm sure! Run, Jacky, run to mamma, she's in the kitchen—hurry!" and after one look of disgust and a muttered exclamation that "Em. never was good for any thing when you wanted her," Jack went.
Once more Emily felt uncomfortable, and somehow her book had lost its charm. She threw it down and went to her room to smooth her hair for tea, and on the stairs she met Bridget, flying down in headlong haste, with a roll of old linen in her hand. It was for Jack's wounded hand, she knew, but she said not a word.
Arrived in her room she found her new cashmere dress, which had been sent home during her absence. Emily was a very pretty girl, and she was fond of pretty clothes. This new dress of navy blue was just to her taste. It fitted perfectly, and once on she felt that she must wear it to tea. But just as the last fold was adjusted, and the last bow in place, her mother's voice was heard, calling from the foot of the stairs: "Emily, can't you come and put the preserves into the jars? They are all ready now."
"Oh, mamma, I'm all dressed in my new cashmere, and I hate to come into the kitchen with it," she answered hastily. "Couldn't you leave them in the safe until morning? I could do it then."
"Never mind, I can manage it; you needn't come down."
"Why don't you let Bridget finish the plums, mamma? I'm sure she could, and you might as well rest yourself." But her mother had gone back to the kitchen and shut the door without answering, so Emily concluded that she had not heard her last suggestion.
While she was yet considering, she saw Arthur coming in with a letter which he held up for her to see.
"It's for you, Em., from your confidential chum," he called out, and Emily rushed down and out in the porch to secure her welcome letter. Carrying it back to the room she read it with all the delight and interest with which a young girl of sixteen always reads a letter from "her dearest friend." Twice she went over the closely written pages; then, seizing her writing desk, she began an immediate answer. Absorbed in her task, Emily covered sheet after sheet of note paper, without noticing that the tea hour had long passed. When at length the bell summoned her to the evening meal she was surprised to see that the hands of her little clock were pointing to seven instead of six.
"Why, did you know, mamma, that tea is a whole hour late to-night?" she asked as she took her seat. Looking at her mother as she spoke, Emily observed that she was very pale, and that she still wore her morning wrapper. She answered wearily:—
"Yes, I know we are very late, but I could not help it; I had not even time to change my dress."
"It's too bad mother," Arthur broke in. "I wish I hadn't picked those plums this week, and then you wouldn't have tired yourself out preserving them. I do wish you could get a—missionary, to help you sometimes. Don't you Em.?" with a significant glance at his sister.
Emily's face flushed angrily, but she made no reply, and soon after she went back to her room where her unfinished letter was waiting. And this was the last sentence she had written:—
"Yes, dear Helena, I long as you do, to be about my life work—to take my place in the conflict, to draw nearer day by day to the lofty aims we long ago set for ourselves. But alas! dear friend, life is so commonplace, so unheroic—and I feel so deeply the want of congenial companionship, like your own, to encourage my drooping heart. It is strange, is not, that one meets with so little comprehension or sympathy from one's own family? Mamma is always quoting a line about 'the trivial round, the common task,' but I look higher than that. I cannot grovel, dear; I must soar onward and upward, above grovelling common place, into realms—"
And as Emily took up her pen to finish her letter, she heard her mother saying in the hall:—
"Oh, dear, I must see that the children have their evening bath, and I am so tired."
And Emily wrote six pages more before she went to bed.—Christian Intelligencer.
Think a Moment, Boys.
By Christian Advocate
Boys do a great many thoughtless and foolish things "for fun," that mortify them very much in the remembrance. To have been caught in somebody's melon-patch, or stealing a neighbor's choice fruit, or taking a gate off its hinges, or crawling under a showman's tent, or playing any kind of a trick to the injury of another, and that has to be accomplished in a sneaking way, won't seem very smart, if you ever grow to be a man of sense. You will hate it, and wonder that you could ever have thought it sharp.
Don't flatter yourself that the worst thing about a mean act is in being caught at it, or found out. You can't be low, or vicious, or tricky, without somebody knowing it, and it does not take long for a good many to find it out. It takes extraordinary talent and deception to have a good reputation concealing a bad character, and it is never worth trying for. The way to seem to be trustworthy is to be trustworthy. There was never yet a boy who was manly, honest, and worthy of confidence, that people did not find him out, and give him his due.
You can't afford to trifle with your reputation. If you descend to indecent and immoral conduct it will soil your character and hurt your prospects, no matter what your friends may do for you, or how you may try to conceal from good people that you do these things. Just as long as you allow yourself to practice the habits that are condemned by pure, upright, straightforward people of integrity—whether you do it openly or on the sly—you will make no progress in the formation of a fine character, or in building up a good reputation. So when you are tempted to any low, tricky, dishonest, mean or unworthy act, stop long enough to think what the effect is going to be upon your own soul, your own mind, your own reputation, if that is your strongest motive, and don't do it.—Christian Advocate.
Reynolds, Georgia.
By C. O. Taylor
WE had a general meeting the third Sabbath in October. Brn. Wimbish and Killin were here from other counties. Three persons were baptized, one of whom was Bro. W. In receiving the faith held by S. D. Adventists, he feels that he has found a better way, more truth and light.
After the baptism we celebrated the ordinances for the first time in this part of the South. The Spirit of the Lord was with us. There is but little opposition to the ordinance of humility in the South, not nearly as much as in the North. The Primitive Baptists have kept the custom alive here, and before the people.
The few here are moving in the direction of temperance. All have signed the teetotal pledge. This is a great field for labor. The South has not given much attention to351temperance of any kind; ministers and people are very intemperate. Very many have yet to learn that there is any moral wrong in the use of opium, tea, coffee, tobacco, or even alcohol. I know a minister who uses them all, and his people think him a good minister of Jesus Christ. C. O. TAYLOR.
The Home Circle.
By M. J. Preston
ANTE-MORTEM.
How much would I care for it, could I know
That when I am under the grass or snow,
The raveled garment of life's brief day,
Folded, and quietly laid away.
How much do you think it would matter then
What praise was lavished upon me, when,
Whatever might be its stint or store,
It neither could help nor harm me more?
If, while I was toiling, they had but thought
To stretch a finger, I would have caught
Gladly such aid to buoy me through
Some bitter duty I had to do:
Though when it was done, they said (may be,
To others—they never said to me—
The word of applause so craved, whose worth
Had been the supremest boon on earth
If granted me then,) “We are proud to know
That one of ourselves had triumphed so.”
What use for the rope, if it be not flung
Till the swimmer's grasp to the rock has clung?
What help in a comrade's bugle-blast,
When the peril of Alpine height is past?
What need that the spurring pæan roll
When the runner is safe beyond the goal?
That worth in eulogy's blandest breath,
When whispered in ears that are hushed in death?
No! no! if you have but a word of cheer,
Speak it while I am alive to hear!
M. J. Preston, in Frank Leslie's Sunday Magazine.
Be Thoughtful of the Aged.
ONLY a few weeks since while making a visit at a neighbor’s house, an old lady entered the room and was thus introduced: “This is our auntie, Mrs. Mason, she has come all the way from Wisconsin to see us, and is seventy-nine years old. It isn’t likely that we shall ever see her again.”
These consecutive sentences were uttered in the gentlest and tenderest possible tone, but I noticed that the bright cheerful look on the old lady’s face instantly gave place to one of sadness, and was not recovered again during my stay; though I made reply, “that we did not know, she might live much longer,” and then gave instances personally known to me, of healthful and happy persons much older than her aunt.
In these remarks on the age of Mrs. Mason, no unkindness was even thought of, and even a feeling of affection was manifested in its utterance. But its extreme thoughtlessness gave me a thrill of pain, which those who have been much with, or observed, aged persons will readily understand.
The young and middle aged are absorbed in the pleasures and cares of the present and future of this life, and are generally as much occupied in them as though this life had no end; and, their sympathies thus confined, give little heed to the entirely different circumstances and feelings of the aged, who have passed all the periods of buoyant health and youthful gayety, middle life enjoyment, and come to that period when they no longer feel strong, and independent; and are naturally drawn to lean on those who are strong, and take pleasure and comfort in reviewing and living over again their past life in the constant reminding they have of it in the happy and active lives of their younger friends and acquaintances; and are never so happy as when made to forget their age and its infirmities in the ready sympathy and tact which puts out of sight all reference to their own personalities and makes them feel as if they had a place and an interest in life, which indeed, they have while life and friends remain.
The old have many trials and temptations of which the young cannot know, and they merit our sincere reverence, kindest sympathy, tender forbearance and most thoughtful care. Much of the bitterness and querulousness of the aged would be avoided by unselfish regard for their comfort, and indeed, they have a right to demand it from our hands, even when they bear not the tender tie of a near and dear relationship. And we should consider, also, our solemn duty in this respect, and let it take the form of pleasure, rather than of trial and trouble.—Household.
Thorn in the Flesh.
ARCHBISHOP WHATELY, in the early part of his life, was painfully oppressed by the sense of shyness. When at Oxford his white, rough coat, and white hat obtained for him the sobriquet of "The White Bear," and his manners, according to his own account of himself, corresponded with the appellation. He was directed, by way of remedy, to copy the example of the best-mannered men in society, but the attempt to do this only increased his shyness.
Finding that he was making no progress, Whately was driven to utter despair, and said to himself: "Why should I endure this torture all my life to no purpose? I would bear it if there was any success to be hoped for, but since there is not, I will die quietly without taking any more doses. I have tried my utmost and find that I must be as awkward as a bear all my life. I will endeavor to think as little about it as a bear, and make up my mind to endure what can't be cured."
In adopting this course, he says: "I succeeded beyond my expectations, for I not only got rid of the personal sufferings of shyness, but also most of those faults of manner which consciousness produces; and acquired at once an easy and natural manner—rough and awkward, for smoothness and grace are quite out of my way—but unconscious, and therefore giving expression to that good will towards men which I really feel; and these, I believe, are the main points."—Character.
GENTLENESS which belongs to virtue is to be carefully distinguished from the mean spirit of cowardice and the fawning assent of sycophants.
Reports from the Field.
By John L. Wood
Los Angeles Co., Cal.
THE cause of "present truth" in this county is still progressing, for which we feel to thank the Lord, and take courage. Several took a stand on the truth while I had the tent in Westminster. A large amount of unreasonable prejudice exists against the truth in this part of the country; but here, as in most places, as the gathering message goes forth, it gathers the most conscientious and substantial people of the community; and as these souls embracing the truth live it out, it produces an argument that none are able to meet. Thus we read, "For so is the will of God, that with well doing ye may put to silence the ignorance of foolish men." 1 Pet. 2: 15.
The Lord has blessed our labors and we now have quite a company who meet to worship on the true Sabbath. Brother and sister A. F. Brown, who were among the first to obey the truth on this coast, over ten years ago, have been a great help in getting the work started in this section; and for their faithfulness they now have the pleasure of seeing all their children, who are old enough, walking in the light of the message. I have put away the tent, and will now work in school-houses as the way opens until tent season again. Last Sabbath was a good day for us; while four willing souls followed their Lord in baptism the Spirit of God was in our midst.
Anaheim, Nov. 10. J. L. Wood.
Cloverdale, Cal.
By W. C. Grainger, J. G. Hurley
We pitched our tent here Oct. 1st. Have closed our meetings on account of the lateness of the season. Six have signed the covenant.
W. C. GRAINGER,
J. G. HURLEY.
Mankato, Minn.
By F. W. Morse
WE feel to thank God and take courage in view of the good work that has been accomplished in the tent labors here the past summer. Nearly thirty have been added to the church by the labors of Brn. Hill and Ells. Eld. Hill met with us in our recent quarterly meeting. It was the largest and most interesting meeting of Sabbath-keepers we have ever had here. Those who have lately embraced the truth, young and old, took hold in the meetings as though they had the work at heart. Bro. Hill could but weep for joy as he saw the precious fruit of his hard labor. The ordinance meeting was indeed a precious occasion.
F. W. MORSE.
St. Charles, Saginaw Co., Mich.
By Wolcott Hackley Littlejohn
FROM Oct. 13 to 26 I labored with the church at St. Charles. There are few churches in the State better located with reference to a field of labor than is the church in that place. There seems to be but very little, if any, prejudice in the public mind. Night after night the church was quite well filled with attentive hearers. Eight or ten adults, some of whom were starting for the first time, and others re-entering the fold after long wandering therefrom, encouraged our hearts by moving out in obedience to the truth. In addition to these, there were several children who also expressed a desire to become Christians. W. H. LITTLEJOHN.
Mason, Mich.
By T. M. Steward
OUR tent was up in this place ten weeks. The Lord has blessed us abundantly. About thirty have embraced the Sabbath. Nineteen have signed the covenant, and others propose to do so. I think there will be a company of twenty-five here. A Sabbath-school has been organized. We have a comfortable place for meetings free, and the people are still interested to hear. The tent expenses have been mostly met by donations. Families have commenced family prayers that never prayed before. We feel that the Lord has done a glorious work; to him be all the praise. T. M. STEWARD.
Delta and Liberty Center, Ohio.
By O. F. Guilford; A. A. Bigelow
We have closed our meetings at Delta. Nineteen signed the covenant to keep the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus. Others are convinced, and we hope they will yet obey.
We have now commenced work on the meeting-house at Liberty Center, which will occupy our time for some weeks.
O. F. GUILFORD,
A. A. BIGELOW.
Windsor, Missouri.
By J. G. Wood
We continued our tent-meeting in this place a little more than seven weeks. This includes the time of our annual camp-meeting, which was held here, and left a very favorable impression.
The attendance was good to the close. We had much opposition, which helped to keep up the interest of the meetings, and bring the people to a decision in favor of the truth.
Eld. Hallam (Disciple), who claims to have held a discussion with Eld. J. N. Loughborough in Napa, Cal., ten years ago, preached three opposition discourses. We replied each time with good effect.
Eld. Bayley (Congregationalist) read a lengthy article written by Dr. Stone of Philadelphia, in which he admitted that the Sabbath was given to man in Eden; that neither Christ nor the apostles gave any command for keeping the first day; that it came in silently and gradually; he said that Christ dared not tell the Jews of the change of the Sabbath, as it would have so imbittered the whole nation that the progress of the gospel would have been impeded.
At the close of our review, several came forward and called for the covenant to sign, pledging themselves to keep the Sabbath of the Lord. Twenty-five have taken their stand with us. Many others are fully convinced that we have the truth. We obtained fourteen subscribers for our periodicals.
J. G. Wood.
Good Health.
A Vegetable Diet.
"At a recent meeting of the London Medical Society, Sir Joseph Fayrer said that he had seen in the northwest provinces of India, whose inhabitants are pure vegetarians,—eating not even butter, eggs, or milk,—some of the finest specimens of the human race, as regards strength, endurance, and physical development.
"Their food consists chiefly of peas, beans, and the like—articles of diet specially rich in nitrogen, which is one of the chief elements of nutrition.
"Hence, no person needs to starve who can secure a dinner of beans accompanied with good brown bread. The body finds in these the main things it requires to sustain life,—heat, strength, and nourishment. Indeed, few persons could find a really better diet—provided their digestion is not impaired."
Notwithstanding the constant accumulation of evidence of this sort, there are those who still continue to repeat over and over again the threadbare arguments which have been used for the last hundred years to show that human beings cannot live in health without consuming in their daily diet a large proportion of butcher's meat. The experience of large numbers of the human race is constantly proving this argument to be false, as is shown in the paragraphs quoted above. We would especially urge upon parents the importance of rearing children upon a diet including no other forms of animal food than milk and perhaps eggs occasionally, but not too freely. If diet affects the character, as is unquestionably the case, such stimulating articles of food as beefsteak and the usually accompanying condiments must be in a very appreciable degree unfavorable to the development of those temperate and amiable qualities of character which are most to be desired.—Good Health.