Earlier text: Clipped from Conference PapersTHE grace of God upon the heart bears the same fruit in all lands and among all peoples, crowding out selfishness and installing self-sacrificing love. Recently one of the Chinese teachers in Pekin University, a Christian young man, who was receiving a salary of fifteen dollars a month, was offered one hundred dollars a month to go into commercial life. He replied: “I believe I ought to be helping to prepare young men for the ministry, and ten times the salary you offer would not take me from my work.”—Selected. Child Training
By Ellen G. White
OUR artificial habits deprive us of many privileges and much enjoyment, and unfit us for living as useful lives as we might otherwise live. A life of fashion is a hard, thankless life. How much time and money women sacrifice in order to make a sensation! At the cost of their health they beautify the dress. Thus they lose their self-control, overtax their patience, and encourage pride and vanity in their children. Many parents fail to realize that their every action tells upon the future of their children. Mothers complain of weariness. They say that they have so much to do that they can not take time to instruct their children. They have no time to sympathize with them in their little disappointments and trials. I have heard mothers refuse to gratify the innocent desires of their children. They were too hurried to grant their little ones that which would have been to them a great pleasure. The busy fingers and weary eyes were embroidering a garment. But children yearn for sympathy, and if they do not obtain it from their parents, they seek it from other sources, which may prove dangerous to their welfare. Many mothers teach their daughters to vie with other girls in outward display. To dress as well as others dress—this is the ambition of their worse than useless lives. As the twig is bent, the tree is inclined. As the children approach manhood and womanhood, their parents deplore their errors. They forget that they have given these youth the lessons that have made them what they are. Parents, remember that the harvest you reap is the fruit of your own planting. If half the time that mothers spend in preparing the dress in accordance with the demands of fashion, were spent in beautifying the characters of their children, what a change would be seen in families! The inspired apostle writes of women, “Whose adorning let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.” Outward display and needless adorning can bear no comparison with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. The desire for outward show proceeds from the pride and vanity of a corrupt heart, and will perish with the user. The inward adorning is as enduring as eternity. Many mothers spend much time in beautifying their houses. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and it is well to be clean; but this, like many other good things, can be carried too far, to the neglect of things of greater importance. Many mothers beautify their houses to the neglect of weightier matters—judgment, mercy, and the love of God. Not long ago I heard a mother express great anxiety to see perfect arrangement and finish in the building of her home. I do not condemn this feeling, but I regretted that this mother could not have brought the same desire for symmetry into the government of her children. In her home she was building and fashioning characters, but she failed to realize the importance of this work, and therefore did not see the mistakes she was making. Passion and self-will ruled in the home. Her children were rough and selfish, uncourteous, and uncultured, seeming to have no sense of true politeness. Their character revealed no uniformity. As I looked upon these self-willed, stubborn pieces of humanity, mismatched indeed, symmetry painfully lacking everywhere, I asked myself involuntarily, Why is the mother so blind? Why is the arrangement of her house of so much more consequence in her eyes than the proper training of her children? Parents, upon you God has laid the work of educating your children for usefulness. Do not, under any consideration, neglect this work. Do not trust the training of your little ones to any other hands. Take up your life duty bravely and cheerfully, facing your responsibilities candidly. To you has been given the work of bringing your children up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Make the Word of God your standard. Do not allow the fashions of the world to prevent you from doing your duty. Take great pains to prepare the soil of the heart for the great Sower to scatter in it the seeds of truth. Mothers, make the education of your children the highest aim of life. Their future happiness depends upon the education they receive in their early years. Do not send them away from you to school when they are young. If your habits and dress are as simple as they should be, you will find ample time to make your children happy, and to lead them to obey you. God will help you to teach them how to submit cheerfully and willingly. Take up your duties, inspired by the noble resolve to do your work faithfully and well. Do not become discouraged. In due time you will reap if you faint not. You will see your children growing up into Christian men and Christian women. Humble Heroism
By M. E. S.
NEGROES frequently exhibit a wonderful heroism in times of danger. An incident of this I witnessed in the spring of 1886, when a great freshet in the Alabama River caused the country on each side to be overflowed by water for many miles around. The negroes on the river plantations were the greatest sufferers. Their cabins would be under water almost before they knew that danger threatened them, and hundreds of them were sometimes found huddled together on some knoll sufficiently elevated to be above the water. There they often remained two or three days and nights without food, and exposed to the soaking rain. Fortunately the weather was not cold. Many relief expeditions were sent out from the neighboring towns to rescue them. These consisted of one or more boats, manned by expert oarsmen and swimmers, and filled with cooked provisions, blankets, etc. One day the news came that the negroes on a certain plantation had sought refuge upon a corn barn, around which the water was rapidly rising, and so rendering their condition exceedingly precarious. Two boats started out at once to their assistance. In one of these I went, accompanied by a white man and a negro. Just before dark, we sighted the corn barn, upon which a mass of black humanity clustered like a swarm of bees. A heavy rain was now falling, and daylight was beginning to fade away. Their condition became most distressing, as they sat in perfect silence awaiting our approach. But we did not appreciate their extreme peril until the boat struck against the frail log building, which was in the13water to the edge of the roof, and visibly shook and tottered. The poor creatures began to climb hurriedly down to the boat. “Stop!” I cried. “The women and children first.” The men obediently resumed their seats. We took in first the children, then the women, and were about to push off, telling the men we would hurry back for them as quickly as possible, or send the first boat we met, when a very old woman (I noticed she was the last to get in the boat, and had done so reluctantly) seized the corner of the house, and, looking anxiously into my face, said: “Marster, ain’t you gwine to take my old man?” “No, auntie,” I answered, “the boat is too full now. He must wait till we come back.” The words were hardly out of my mouth when, with a sudden spring, she was up, and on the roof again. It shook as she scrambled on it, and took her seat by a little, withered, old black man, whose hand she seized and held, as if she was afraid we would tear her away from him. “Come, auntie,” I cried, “this won’t do. We can’t leave you here, and we can’t wait any longer for you.” “Go on, marster,” she answered. “I thanks yer, en I pray de good Lawd to fetch you all safe home; but I’m gwine to stay wid my ole man. Ef Simon got to git drownded, Lyddy gwine git drownded, too. We dun bin togedder too long to part now.” And we had to leave her, after throwing some blankets and a lot of provisions to them. As we rowed off in the rain and night, a high, falsetto voice, tremulous with age, came across the waters from the crib, where we left the almost certainly doomed group in the blackness of darkness. They dared not have a light for fear of setting fire to their frail support. We stopped our oars to listen to the song. It came clear and distinct. First, Lyddy’s trembling voice, and then a chorus of a dozen or more of the deep bass voices of the men:—
> “We’re a clinging to de ark,
> Take us in, take us in,
> Fur de watah’s deep and dark,
> Take us in, take us in,
> Do de best is po’ en weak,
> Take us in, take us in,
> ’Tis de Lawd we gwinter seek,
> Take us in, take us in,
> Den, Lawd, hole out dy han’,
> Take us in, take us in,
> Draw de simnahs to de lan’,
> Take us in, take us in,” We could wait and listen no longer to the weird sound, but struck our oars in the water and hurried away. Most fortunately, we came across a boat bent upon the same errand as ourselves, which went immediately to the barn, and saved all of its living freight. The building had apparently been held down by their weight, for, as the last one left it, it turned over, and floated away to the gulf. Their rescuers told us afterward that, as they neared it, the first sound they heard was an old woman’s voice singing,—
> “De Lawd is hyah’d our cry,”
>
> Answered by the men:—
>
> “Take us in, take us in,
> En he’ll save us by en by,
> Take us in, take us in.” To this simple-hearted old creature divorce courts and separations were unknown. With her it was “until death do us part.”—M. E. S., in Our Dumb Animals. A Voice in the Wilderness
By Eliza H. Morton
THIS earth is sad and old;
Its years are nearly spent—
A story almost told,
A chain not long to hold,
A trembling tent. There comes from far away,
O’er land and sky and sea,
A voice that in our day
Cries out, “Prepare the way
And bow the knee.” O ye that dwell below,
List to that warning voice!
It brings from long ago
Straight truths you need to know.
O make thy choice! For thou must choose. Erelong
Our Jesus will appear;
His mighty arm is strong,
He’ll smite the wicked throng
Who laugh and sneer. The message sharp and clear
Is sounding through the land.
’Tis wafted far and near;
O give a listening ear!
The truth will stand. Burbank on Alcohol and Tobacco
By Luther Burbank
If I answered your question simply by saying that I never use tobacco and alcohol in any form, and rarely coffee or tea, you might say that was a personal preference and proved nothing. But I can prove to you most conclusively that even the mild use of stimulants is incompatible with work requiring accurate attention and definite concentration. To assist me in my work of budding — work that is as accurate and exacting as watch making — I have a force of twenty men. I have to discharge men from this force, if incompetent. Some time ago my foreman asked me if I took pains to inquire into the personal habits of my men. On being answered in the negative, he surprised me by saying that the men I found unable to do the delicate work of budding, invariably turned out to be smokers or drinkers. These men, while able to do the rough work of farming, call budding and other delicate work “puttering,” and have to give it up, owing to an inability to concentrate their nerve force. Even men who smoke one cigar a day can not be trusted with some of my most delicate work. Cigarettes are even more damaging than cigars, and their use by young boys is little short of criminal, and will produce in them the same results that sand placed in a watch will produce—destruction. I think that no one can possibly bring up a favorable argument for the use of cigarettes by boys. Several of my young acquaintances are in their graves who gave promise of making happy and useful citizens; and there is no question whatever that cigarettes alone were the cause of their destruction. No boy living would begin the use of cigarettes if he knew what a useless, soulless, worthless thing they would make of him. A LORD chief justice of England says: “Judges weary with calling attention to drink as the principal cause of crime. But I can not refrain from saying that if they could make England sober, they would shut up nine tenths of the prisons.” A judge of Philadelphia says: “We can trace four fifths of the crimes that are committed to the influence of rum. There is not one case in twenty where a man is tried for his life, in which rum is not the direct or indirect cause of the murder. Rum and blood, I mean the shedding of blood, go hand in hand.” A Boston district attorney says: “Ninety-nine out of one hundred of the crimes in our commonwealth are produced by intoxicating liquors.” The inspectors of a large State prison report that “four fifths of the prisoners committed the crimes for which they are sentenced, either directly or indirectly through indulgence in intoxicating drinks.” A prison association reports: “Of other causes, it may be said that they slay their thousands; of intemperance, it must be acknowledged that it slays its tens of thousands.” From the testimony of physicians, it is proved that “one hundred thousand persons die annually in the United States as the result of drink. Seventy-five per cent of all crime, and fifty per cent of all cases of insanity, are attributed to alcohol.”—Selected. Temperance in the German Army
IT is becoming more and more evident that the kaiser intends to reform the German army into a strict temperance organization, by abolishing the sale of alcoholic beverages at all canteens. Experiments have been made at different army posts, especially at Nuremberg, where the canteens during the last few months have sold nothing but tea, coffee, and lemonade, without a single protest from the rank and file. The issue of brandy and beer as part of the army ration will, it is said, be abolished throughout the whole empire in the near future. As the result of the appointment of a commission by Kaiser Wilhelm to look into the drink question, the true condition of the drinking habits of the people has been brought to light, and among the best people of the nation there is considerable alarm. In the commissioner's report to the kaiser it is shown that the German people have consumed alcoholic liquors during the past year to the amount of $750,000,000. The kaiser's commissioners report that drinking is steadily on the increase, this increase amounting to $125,000,000 per annum in late years. When the kaiser read this part of the commission's report, he cried: “An increase of six hundred millions in five years! Why, the Yankees themselves could not stand it.” Reports show that there was a long discussion between the kaiser and the commissioners as to the possibility of reducing this tremendous amount. The drift of it seems to be that an appeal must be made to the nation, begging it in the name of patriotism to stop such well-nigh infinite beer drinking. “The tremendous guzzling must be stopped somehow,” his majesty repeatedly cried. General Field Marshal Count Waldersee, a teetotaler, has proposed an appeal to the German people's pride in the army.—Selected. Visit to Warburton and Departure for Africa
By George A. Irwin
On Wednesday, while we were on our way to Melbourne, Elder Gates sailed from Sydney on his trip to Manila and Singapore. We reached Melbourne Wednesday, December 5, at 1:30 P. M., and were met at the station by Brother Salisbury and Sister Hennig. We all went home with Sister Hennig to dinner, and immediately at its close went to the Echo building, in North Fitzroy, to meet Brother Chapman, who had come down to look over the machinery, to see what might be of service to them in their work at Avondale. The interior of the building presented a very different aspect from what it did when I saw it last. The main front building was nearly empty. A few presses were still in place in the back building, and a little work was being done in the room above. Removing the necessary machines and appliances to Warburton to carry on the work there had emptied the building at North Fitzroy. In harmony with the recommendation of a committee appointed at the late union conference to meet on the ground and carefully investigate the situation, it had been decided to close out the business about Jan. 1, 1907, and sell what machinery and fixtures there were left, and rent the building until such time as a sale might be effected. I was told that a lease had already been effected at four pounds a week and taxes. Leaving the building, we went into the city proper, and spent a short time looking over the rooms that are being fitted up, in which Brother Fisher is soon to open up a hygienic café. At five o'clock Brethren Olsen and Salisbury and I took the train for Warburton, where we arrived a little after eight o'clock, and were met at the station by Brother Anderson, who took us to his home for the night. Thursday morning being bright and clear, we were astir early, and with Brother Anderson as guide, we looked over the residence portion of the new place, followed the water-pipe to the place where the water was taken from the stream, and then traced it to the reservoir, and saw the volume of water in store, and the overflow pipe that carries the surplus water away through a ravine back of the reservoir and dwellings of our people. There are, all told, twelve new dwellings built and occupied by our people, all of whom are in some way connected with the work of the office. Each dwelling has connected with it all the way from one half an acre to six acres of land. All with whom I conversed seemed much pleased with the place, and were thankful that they were out of the city. Each home is connected with the water-main that supplies the reservoir, and consequently has an abundance of cold, soft spring-water. In addition to this, they can all be supplied with electric light at a nominal cost from the electric plant that lights the factory. Thus, though living in the country, they can have at least some of the city conveniences. Each property is being improved by the removal of the large dead trees and stumps that were so numerous on some parts of the grounds, and by the erection of fences and the planting of fruit and ornamental trees. When I last saw this place, a little over two years ago, not a blow had been struck in the way of building or improvement. Now they have, in addition to what I have already mentioned, a neat, convenient, and substantially built factory, with stable and other necessary outbuildings. Their water-power system is a perfect success. Even in the driest season they have had an abundance of water from the one stream, yet they have the right to another and stronger one in case of emergency. Now that they have borne the initial expense of the laying of the pipe and making the reservoir, their expense for power is practically nothing. I was pleased to learn from Brother Salisbury that thus far they have been crowded with our own denominational work. Some fears were expressed in the beginning that when they cut off commercial work, the employees would be idle a great portion of the time. While the removal of the plant from the city of Melbourne has entailed much hard work and some loss, I am sure that it was a move made in the providence of God, and will be accompanied by his special blessing if all work in harmony and maintain that true missionary spirit that should characterize the workers in an institution printing and publishing nothing that does not contain, in some form, the last warning message to this world. Most of the Australian Conferences have contributed liberally toward the fund to erect this new plant. Brother Salisbury, the manager, has worked hard and faithfully to perfect an institution of sufficient capacity to do effectively and creditably the work necessary to supply Seventh-day Adventist literature for Australasia; and since they have followed the Lord's counsel in removing from the city, we have good reasons for expecting the Lord's special blessing upon this branch of his work in the future. In the forenoon we attended a meeting of the board of managers of the Echo Publishing Company, and at noon I spoke to the employees for an hour relative to the general situation and condition of our work in the States. After dinner Brother Olsen and I took the train and returned to Melbourne. We were met at the station by Elder Hennig, and taken to his home. I felt sorry that my time was so limited that I could not have a meeting with the brethren at Melbourne and at Adelaide. On Friday morning, December 7, at nine o'clock, I left Elder Hennig's home, accompanied by himself and his wife, Elder Olsen, and Brother F. L. Sharp and his wife, for Port Melbourne, sixteen miles away, where the “Medic” was lying in dock; she was to sail at noon for Cape Town, South Africa, my present destination. Pastor Wood called at the boat, and I had the pleasure of a few minutes' conversation with him. Elder Olsen remained on deck with me until the last whistle blew for visitors to go ashore. I have been pleased to note the high esteem with which the brethren regard him wherever I have gone. He is well worthy of the confidence they repose in him. The work in Australia under his leadership is growing and expanding. Their late union conference was the largest in point of numbers and the best in missionary and spiritual interest of any heretofore held in the field. While they have a large mission field, they are meeting its demands like men who believe the work is to be finished in this generation. Fourteen new missionaries were sent out from this conference, all of whom they expect to support from their own mission treasury without aid from the General Conference. The brethren in Australia have not only a mind to work, but a mind to give as well. As the ponderous boat “Medic” swung majestically away from the wharf, and the familiar faces passed out of recognition, and I thought of the long and uncertain journey before me, a momentary feeling of loneliness came over me, such as I had seldom experienced. But when I called to mind the Saviour's promise in the great commission, “Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world,” and the one made to Jacob on that lonely night when he lay down with nothing but a stone for a pillow, “And, behold, I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again to this land; for I will not leave thee,” my courage came again, and although I did not know a soul on the boat, the feeling of loneliness had vanished because I felt the presence of the Comforter in my soul, and I involuntarily sang that beautiful hymn:— “Lonely? no, not lonely
While Jesus standeth by;
His presence always cheers me;
I know that he is nigh.
Friendless? no, not friendless,
For Jesus is my friend;
I change, but he remaineth,
The same unto the end.” British Bible Society Circulation
At the annual meeting of the British Bible Society, it was stated that the record circulation of almost six million volumes had been attained last year. Hearts are Being Prepared
By J. W. Westphal
EVIDENCES frequently come to light showing that the Lord by his providence is preparing souls to receive the last message of mercy. Recently one of our laborers was working in a large city of Paraguay. One afternoon as he was going from house to house with tracts, Bibles, and papers, he felt discouraged about the results of his labors. A little later he reached a neat little cottage, where he was gladly received by its only occupant, a Paraguayan bachelor, to whom he sold a Bible and some tracts. He received an invitation to call again. At another visit he learned from him the following story:— He was brought up a Roman Catholic, but for some years he had had no confidence in that church. He had once purchased a Bible, but a friend borrowed it, and never returned it. A New Testament came into his hands, and this partially made up the loss. He believed that some day brethren would come to him to help him, and with this in view he prepared a place for them, which was later destroyed by a flood. Nothing daunted, however, he still waited and hoped. He now found in the repeated visits of our brother the fulfilment of his hopes. Without waiting to be taught, he asked about the various points of our faith, to which the Spirit of the Lord seemed to have been leading his mind. In his simple faith he had put up in his garden the first letters of the Spanish words, Garden of the Father; God. He considered that all had come from the Lord,—land, trees, rain, and sunshine, and the health and strength with which to do the work, and hence all was the Lord’s. Such a man would, naturally, gladly receive the tithing system. He had read in the Bible about it, and inquired whether it was not obligatory. He said he would not only pay tithe in the future, but would pay some for what he had. He is now rejoicing in the truth, and is earnestly teaching it to others. The laborer’s efforts were not in vain in the Lord. The promise is, “We shall reap, if we faint not.” I will mention another instance, which came to my notice while in Paraguay: Brethren Ernst and Kolbermatten had been working with the tracts and papers in the capital, the city of Asuncion. They desired to hold a series of meetings, but looked in vain for a vacant room. Later, one of them found three rooms, while canvassing in a very undesirable part of the city, and immediately went to inform the other. On going to secure them, they found that a gentleman and his wife from Montevideo, Uruguay, had come to spend the winter here, and had already secured possession. They were disappointed; but the gentleman offered to rent the largest room, which was at once taken. For weeks they continued the meetings, with small interest. The gentleman of whom they rented the room was a French infidel. He had no interest in religious things, and was always ready to argue against Christianity, and never appeared in the meetings. As a result, there sprang up only a passing acquaintance. Near the close of the series of meetings, he was asked why he did not attend. He replied that he did not need to. Every night, while lying in bed, he and his wife listened attentively to all the sermons, and after the meetings had talked a long time about what they had heard. They were convinced that this was the truth, and they determined to obey it. Before returning to their home, they were baptized, and are now the only representatives of this message in Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay. Others also accepted the truth in Asuncion. The interest in missionary work is also increasing among our people of South America. In the Argentine Conference, for instance, where the weekly offerings go to open up the work in new provinces, they were about as much for the first nine months of this year as for the whole of last year in the entire River Plate field, which then included Uruguay, Paraguay, and the Upper Parana. Through the better facilities of the union organization, we hope to do more in the future than has been possible in the past. A LADY missionary of the Church of England, who has just returned to China after a furlough of some little time, writes: “Yesterday a party of us went to see the new College of Western Learning in Foochow. I wish I could adequately picture to you the contrast that college presents with the state of learning in 1899, when I first came to China. Then I was taken to see the Great Examination buildings in Foochow. To these buildings, once a year, flocked the students from all over the Foochow Prefecture. All the year they had studied at home, committing to their prodigious memories the Confucian books. The hall of examination consisted of rows on rows of small cells, where the students, one in each cell, wrote their papers for days together, eating and sleeping in their cells to prevent communication with one another. And to-day what do we find? The cells are gone; large, airy class rooms and lecture halls take their place. Three hundred resident students are taught Western learning. We visited three or four large classes of such youths engaged in reading English from the first and second standard reading books used in English board schools. “This college is the largest of over one hundred new schools started, under the Chinese government, in this one city of Foochow. It is a new China I have come back to. Almost pathetic it seems to me, this longing for Western ways. Why should English be what they want most of all? ‘Because English is the language of the world,’ some one answered me. But let us look deeper. What a responsibility, what an opportunity, for us English people!” Henry Martyn, “A Man of God”
“Now let me burn out for God,” wrote Henry Martyn in his diary two days after his arrival in Calcutta just one hundred years ago. “He was a burning and a shining light,” are the words inscribed upon the memorial tablet in the church in Calcutta where the youthful preacher often proclaimed the unsearchable riches of Christ; indicating how truly he fulfilled the ideal chosen for his missionary life at its beginning. In his early youth ambition had been entirely self-centered. He sought and gained the highest honors his university could bestow, and aimed to make a name for himself at the bar; but through the school of sorrow he early came to see the emptiness of worldly gain. “I obtained my highest wishes,” he said, “but was surprised to find that I had grasped a shadow.” In the hour of greatest triumph in his university career the words of Scripture came to him with irresistible power: “Seekest thou great things for thyself? seek them not.” He responded to the voice, and henceforth his life and all his powers were absolutely at the disposal of the Master. It was Charles Simeon, the godly university preacher at Cambridge, the man who had been instrumental in his conversion, who turned the attention of young Martyn to the heathen world. His account of the work being accomplished by Dr. Carey and his associates made a deep impression upon him, while the burning zeal of David Brainerd, the story of whose life came into his hands about the same time, appealed to his own intense nature, and he became set upon mission service. The years granted him in India can be counted on the fingers of one hand, but the influence of the life of ceaseless toil and of absolute devotion to a high calling endures to this day. As a chaplain of the East India Company his work was peculiarly difficult, for his deep piety and practical exhortations to holy living were too great a rebuke to those to whom he was called primarily to minister. So far as regular duties permitted, he gave himself to work among the native peoples. He established schools for the children, supporting them from his own purse; he spent much time in conversation with learned Hindus and Mohammedans, and large numbers of poor, wretched heathen used to gather at his bungalow every Sabbath morning for service. In addition to this he accomplished the translation of the New Testament into Hindustani, and then proceeded to the same task in the Persian language. It was to perfect this latter version that he finally went to Persia, where, after successfully accomplishing this great work, he died. The estimate of his character given by a Persian who knew him was this: “He was a good man, a man of God.”—Baptist Missionary.