Earlier text: SIGNS OF HIS COMING"CAST THY BURDEN UPON THE LORD." PS. 55:22.
By Elder J. P. Henderson
BY ELDER J. P. HENDERSON. WHY do Christians who profess faith in God go all the while sorrowing? Why are they weighed down with care and vexed beyond measure with the turmoils of life, when relief can be obtained simply by asking, and by casting the burden upon the Lord? The promise is to all who properly avail themselves of it. Our privileges are greater than can be expressed in words, yet we fail to accept them. "Great peace have they which love Thy law." "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee." "Casting all your care upon Him; for He careth for you." Such texts are numerous, yet their virtue is not manifested in our daily life as it might be. The victory in the Christian warfare is complete only when we are able to perfectly consign all our affairs to Him who is able and willing to do for us. It is ours when we trust Him for daily bread, when, in sickness or in the adversities of life, we can feelingly say, "Thy will be done," knowing and believing that He will work all things for our good. "A life in Christ is a life of restfulness." There is no sorrow, no troubles, no care in it, but what he is willing to hear and able to give relief. "Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ." Phil. 4:6, 7. The mind is not to dwell on trouble. When once the burden has been cast on the Lord, leave it there. Hannah was a woman of a sorrowful spirit. She wept sore and prayed until she found relief. Then she went her way, and her countenance was no more sad. 1 Sam. 1:18. Learning to control the mind is an important step in obtaining the victory. Think of other things, of Jesus and his love, of truth, purity, and what is good. Phil. 4:8. Committing texts of Scripture is good exercise when the mind is annoyed with care. A Christian lady once remarked that she had committed the entire fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah during her husband's sickness and death. Troubles often arise from personal imperfections. There may be sinfulness in the heart that should be overcome. Jealousy, pride, covetousness, create discontent, uneasiness, and enmity, all of which tend to weary life and drive out the peace of God from the heart. "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith," etc.; "and they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts." Gal. 5:22, 24. "Keep your wants, your joys, your sorrows, your cares, your fears; before God. You cannot burden him; you cannot weary him." "Keep so near to him that in every unexpected trial your thoughts will turn to him as naturally as the flower turns to the sun." "The Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy."—Steps to Christ, p. 116. "I yielded myself to his tender embrace,
And, faith taking hold of the word,
My fetters fell off and I anchored my soul;
The haven of rest is my Lord." 608 E. Twelfth St., Des Moines, Iowa. "God hears the heart; though without words, but he never hears words without the heart." "Leisure for men of business and business for men of leisure would cure many complaints." Accepting Truth Requires Unlearning
"The first thing for acceptance of truth is to unlearn human doctrines and become as a little child." Dark Writings and Lightning Flashes
“SOME men's writings resemble a dark night, enlivened by a few occasional flashes of lightning.” "THERE is no spiritual arithmetic by which you can bring together any number of half-Christians and make a whole one." A WORD once sent forth from the lips cannot be brought back with a chariot and six horses.—Chinese Proverb. THE SECRET OF A HAPPY DAY.
By Frances Ridley Havergal
"The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him." Ps. 25:14. Just to let thy Father do
What he will;
Just to know that he is true,
And be still.
Just to follow hour by hour
As he leadeth;
Just to draw the moment's power
As it needeth.
Just to trust him, this is all:
Then the day. will surely be
Peaceful, whatso'er befall,
Bright and blessed, calm and free. Just to let him speak to thee
Through his word,
Watching, that his voice may be
Clearly heard.
Just to tell him everything
As it rises,
And at once to him to bring
All surprises.
Just to listen, and to stay
Where you cannot miss his voice.
This is all; and thus to-day,
Communing, you shall rejoice. Just to ask him what to do
All the day,
And to make you quick and true
To obey.
Just to know the needed grace
He bestoweth,
Every bar of time and place
Overfloweth.
Just to take thy orders straight
From the Master's own command.
Blessed day when thus we wait
Always at our Sovereign's hand. Just to recollect his love,
Always true,
Always shining from above,
Always new;
Just to recognize its light
All-enfolding;
Just to claim its present might
All-upholding;
Just to know it as thine own,
That no power can take away—
Is not this enough alone
For the gladness of the day? Just to trust, and yet to ask
Guidance still;
Take the training or the task,
As he will,
Just to take the loss or gain
As he sends it,
Just to take the joy or pain
As he lends it.
He who formed thee for his praise
Will not miss the gracious aim;
So to-day and all thy days
Shall be moulded for the same. Just to leave in his dear hand
Little things,
All we cannot understand,
All that stings.
Just to let him take the care,
Sorely pressing,
Finding all we let him bear
Changed to blessing.
This is all, and yet the way
Marked by Him who loves thee best,—
Secret of a happy day,
Secret of his promised rest.
—Frances Ridley Havergal. SYMPATHY.
By Mrs. C. R. McCartney
WHAT a beautiful word! It is often misunderstood. It is not pity for one in trouble. It is a far bigger word than that. It is made up of two Greek words, "sun," with, and "pathos," feeling—"a feeling with,"—a feeling with in joy and in sorrow, in hopes and in fears, in ambition, purpose, resolution, lofty aim; in disappointment, defeat, despair. Oh, the power of sympathy! It is like those fairy spirits we used to read about in childhood, which had the power of instantly conveying themselves unseen into the most secret apartment. By it a mother can stoop and enter into the heart of her babe, or with swelling bosom draw breath for breath with the son in manhood's prime. I think there is no mother but has this capacity in some degree. Cultivate this God-given power. Like everything else we would have grow, whether in the world of nature or of spirit, it will not grow without painstaking. When your little boy has been working for hours trying to make some plaything, again and again some part refuses to work. He has tried and tried, but at length, in a burst of grief and disappointment, he dashes it from him and sits down and weeps. Do not chide him for being naughty; do not laugh at him for being so silly as to cry about a trifle. It is no more a trifle than it is for that man who has toiled day after day for years to amass money enough to buy a lot and build a house, and who sees it burnt to ashes just as he was about to step in and enjoy it. And who thinks of laughing or chiding at such a time? Nor yet is it enough as you bend over the garment you are making to look up and say: "Poor little fellow. Don't cry. Here's a piece of candy." This is not sympathy. It may perhaps stop the crying, but you have not felt with your boy. Lay aside your work, rise, and, lifting the toy, examine it; see what he was aiming at, and make that aim yours for the moment. Show him where the fault lay; get him to help you to put it right, and return to your work, having set a-going a new wavelet of hope and courage and joy in this world of ours, which may perhaps never cease widening till it has touched the eternal shores. When the lessons of your boy or girl have become more than mere child's play, and they have commenced in earnest the hard and difficult task of study, as much as possible meet these difficulties with them. Knowledge gives power. It makes a boy look up to his mother with confidence when he thinks that she possesses that knowledge he is struggling to attain. So let me urge you, as much as your talents, age, circumstances will permit, to equip yourself for being the companion and guide of your sons and daughters in their studies. When the young soul begins to be stirred with thoughts of God, of eternity, of the great unknown that lies beyond this earthly scene, oh, do not make light of it! Do not laugh, as so many parents do, at the "cute questions," as they call them, which they ask. Catch, if possible, the idea of the yearning soul; take time and pains to meet it and explain it if you can; and if you cannot—for even a child will ask a question which the wisest philosopher and Christian can only ask—if you cannot, be a little child, and, with his hand in yours, stand silently and reverently at the edge of the great deep. Cultivate this confidential communing on the unseen, and when your child begins in earnest to grapple with its awful realities, when he awakes to the sense of his lost condition by nature, and his need of a Saviour, there will be no icy crust separating between you and sealing your lips; but, recalling your own early experiences, you will point out to him the steps you trod, and, taking him by the hand, you will lead him to Jesus. Pity the poor mother that has no such experiences, and therefore knows not how or where to lead. Still give him your hand—the hand of sympathy—he may lead you if you cannot lead him. Another season when sympathy is craved and needed, and too often denied, is when the young heart is stirred with the emotions of love. How frequently is this made a time of sore trial to a young man or woman! How often are they made the butt of the family circle! Jokes and jeers fly thick at his cost. This should not be. Indulge not in anything approaching this yourselves. Mothers, tolerate it not in other members of the family circle. Teach them that pure, virtuous love is a holy and sacred thing, and make them to feel that there is one place where they may unbosom themselves without fear of ridicule or upbraiding or betrayal.—Mrs. C. R. McCartney. A HALF A CENTURY VEGETARIAN.
By F. W. Crosby
As PROBABLY no other family in this country have had a longer experience than ours, perhaps I may be excused if I relate some facts as to our being vegetarians. My father was a very conscientious man, and humane and tender hearted towards all, both human and brute. From about 1825 to 1836 he had much trouble, in winter especially, with a cough and bleeding at the lungs. In 1836 he came across the Poet Shelley's "Queen Mab," in the notes to which is an argument in favor of a vegetarian diet. My father had often said that if it ever became necessary to kill his meat he would quit using it. Being rather delicate, as I have said, he concluded to try vegetarianism. My mother also did so at about the same time. There was a large family of us and all were free to do as they wished in the matter. I was the first to follow my parents in the change of diet. We had removed in 1835 from the State of New York to the State of Michigan. Now whether it was the change of climate, or diet, or both, I cannot say, but my father never had any further lung trouble, and lived to almost ninety years of age, and had hardly an ache or pain for the last forty years of his life. My mother died last March from the effects of a bad fall, fracturing her leg and hip. She was ninety-one years and six months old, and in possession of unusual vigor, both mentally and physically. As for myself I may say that I have not given myself a fair show. First I was severely injured during my four years' service in the Union army. Surgeons have said years ago that I had no sort of excuse or valid reason for being alive. Well, I spent two years in the great forest region of Venezuela between the Orinoco and Amazon, where ten per cent of the whites die annually, had the fever of the country again and again, buried the third of my party, and came out weighing less than one hundred pounds. Moreover, in my business as a practical metallurgist I have twice been quite thoroughly saturated with mercurial fumes, enough so as to cause my teeth to drop out prematurely. But, despite all these drawbacks, there are few men, I dare say, who at threescore and ten enjoy life as well as I do. I have been abroad since last October, traveling alone, climbing mountains in Sicily, Lipari Islands, Italy, and Switzerland. Was attacked by a brigand in Sicily, stabbed severely twice, but I got the fellow, and he is now in prison. My wounds healed kindly. Now, I am giving these facts to show that vegetarianism is consistent with health and vigor. I have a son who is professor of mineralogy in the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Boston, who has been a vegetarian since early childhood. He is strong and healthy, and has done a good deal of original work in geology and mineralogy. Some of the effects of a vegetarian diet, as I have noted them, are these, hurts and wounds heal easily, recuperate rapidly from fatigue. I walked last week one day twelve miles and made a climb of five thousand feet and the next day walked nineteen miles over a very rugged road. Disorders of the bowels are extremely rare with those who abstain from meat and live wholesomely otherwise. Naturally, a vegetarian is temperate and clean. I note in a recent great walking match between Berlin and Vienna the winners were vegetarians. Before our Civil War I carried on bridge building. More than once I've had to put in piers in winter and I have seldom seen a man who could endure the wet and cold as I could, exploding the idea that meat, fat meat, is necessary to resist cold. A brother of mine, who was born after my442mother became a vegetarian, from infancy up was noted for his great strength, activity, and vigor. He never tasted meat nor spirituous drink. He was killed at Vicksburg in 1863. You may consider that I am a veteran in the cause, and have a great desire to see men live right. No flocks that range the valley free
To slaughter I condemn;
Taught by the Power that pities me,
I learn to pity them.
—Food, Home, and Garden. UNDER THE STARS.
By Elizabeth P. Allan
"It isn't far from bedtime, Sam," said his father. "Don't it strike you so?" Father and mother and Sam had been sitting out on the grass enjoying the cool night breezes. "Are you going up with me, farder?" "Going up with you! Hello, stranger! who are you? I thought this was my big boy, most six years old; but he goes to bed by himself." "I know, farder, but it's kind o' lonesome up there." "You aren't afraid, Sam, are you?" asked mother softly. " 'Fraid? no'm," answered the little boy in surprise; "course I ain't 'fraid, 'cause there ain't no rattlesnakes nor nothin' like that livin' here; but I get lonesome." "Well, you can just open the shutter," said father, "and then I'll holler good-night to you." "Papa," said Sam, "you aren't afraid for your little boy to sleep by himself, are you?" "You wouldn't be afraid for him to sleep out-of-doors, would you?" "God would be certain to take care of me, even out-of-doors, wouldn't he, papa?" "Well, then," said the little boy triumphantly, "I want to sleep out here in the hammock to-night." "O Sammy, you'd get scared in the night!" cried his mother. "What would make me scared?" he asked innocently; "there wouldn't be anybody out here but God and me." They could not refuse to let him put his Heavenly Father to the proof. He went upstairs and put on his little gown, said his prayers, and came down hugging a pillow in his short arms. Mamma wrapped him up in a big shawl, and before he had been in his swinging bed fifteen minutes, the little boy was asleep. The father and mother did not feel a bit like leaving their only little boy out under the trees all night, but after watching his quiet sleep for a long time, they went to bed themselves. And all through the night first papa and then mamma would steal to the window and look out at the little dark bundle rolled up in the hammock. Once several dogs tore through the yard, growling and fighting. This brought the father and mother both to the window, but there was no sound from the hammock. "Did you hear the dogs, Sammy?" asked mother in the morning. "Yes; I hear 'em," answered the little man of faith, "but course I knew God wasn't 'fraid of dogs." —Elizabeth P. Allan. "WHEN will a missionary have the privilege of bringing the gospel of Christ to this continent?" wrote Henry Martyn, when, on the way to India, his ship touched at Brazil. "When," he asked, "will this beautiful country be delivered from its Christian idolatry? The cross is not wanting, but the message of the cross is unknown." In quoting these words the Revue des Missions Contemporaines adds that they apply to the present time as well as to the opening years of this century, when they were written: The Revue goes on to say that it is only in English and Dutch Guiana, the extreme northern portion of South America, that a great center of gospel light has been created, by the labors of the English Church and of Moravian missionaries, and it gives the following statements as to the luminous points which appear amid the deep shadows that envelop the southern half of the New World. Venezuela, twice as large as France, has only one Protestant missionary for its 2,350,000 inhabitants. Colombia, with an extent nearly double that of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and with a population of 4,000,000, has only three mission stations, occupied by the Presbyterian Church of the United States. Ecuador, half as large as Germany, is the only one of the South American republics which tolerates no other religion than that of Rome. There is not a single herald of the truth as we receive it among her million inhabitants. Peru, with her 3,000,000 scattered over an extent of country twice as great as that of France and Switzerland put together, has only one Protestant pastor, Mr. Ford, who has charge of the two little evangelical churches of Lima and Callao. The American Bible Society does its best to scatter the word of God among these ignorant people, and its principal agent, M. Penzotti, has but recently come out of the prison into which he was thrown by the priests of Rome. Peru also awaits the time when the Light of life shall illumine her darkness. Bolivia, two and one-half times larger than France, with a population of 2,300,000 souls, has only one settled missionary. It is visited here and there by colporters of the American Bible Society. Chile, politically and intellectually the most advanced of the republics, counting 2,720,000 inhabitants, of whom 500,000 are Indians, has an extent equal to one and one-half times that of France. Here the United States Presbyterians have five stations, occupied by a dozen workers, and the South American Society has three stations, with eight missionaries. Let us hope that the Swiss preachers, who give their attention to the spiritual needs of Swiss immigrants in Chile, will also spread abroad the light of evangelical truth among the Roman Catholic populations. The Argentine Republic is the second in size of the South American States. It is five times larger than Germany, though it has but 4,000,000 inhabitants. One-fourth of this population is of European descent; three-fourths are Indians or of mixed blood. It is evangelized by seven laborers of the missionary society for South America, and twelve of the M. E. Church of the U. S. A. Paraguay, after having submitted for two centuries to a Jesuitical government, has at last expelled its oppressors. Smaller than Italy, it has, according to some authorities, 250,000 inhabitants; according to others, twice that number. However this may be, the five workers of the Missionary Society for South America and the group of natives in the service of the Methodist Episcopal Church, are utterly insufficient for their task. Uruguay has seven mission stations, dependent on the same two agencies. As large as France, it has 600,000 to 700,000 inhabitants. Brazil, larger than the United States and comprising half of the South American continent, has 14,000,000 people. Six societies are at work here, employing about eighty missionaries, one for every 175,000 souls. But, as everywhere in this vast region, the laborers are not apportioned equally among the inhabitants; they reach probably not more than 2,000,000. Communities of German immigrants, served by evangelical pastors, no doubt exercise a beneficent influence around them. To sum up, of the 34,000,000 inhabitants of South America, there are undoubtedly not more than 4,000,000 who are reached by the gospel message; 30,000,000 remain strangers to the good news. Is it not, then, accurate to call that part of the world a neglected continent?—Selected. ONE of the most thrilling stories of missionary exploration within recent years is that of Miss Annie Taylor, who in 1892 entered Thibet and nearly reached the capital city, Lahassa. Miss Taylor is nominally connected with the China Inland Mission, but, having means of her own, she has conducted missionary work after her own judgment. Some four or five years ago she determined to enter Thibet, which has been rigorously closed against all foreigners. The trade of Thibet is in the hands of the Chinese, who try to keep out all foreigners. Miss Taylor resided for a time at Derjeeling, a point in the Himalayas to which the Thibetans frequently come, where she learned their language, afterward going to China. She started for Thibet from a frontier Chinese town, Taochao, on September 2, 1892. She had as attendants a Mohammedan named Nogar, whose wife was a Thibetan, and also a Thibetan servant named Pentso. Shortly after crossing the border they fell among parties of brigands and at one time were in the midst of a serious battle. The region through which they passed is a high plain, over eleven thousand feet above the level of the sea, where the cold is intense and where vegetation is scarce. The hardships they endured were of the severest kind. Worse than all was the faithlessness of Nogar, the Mohammedan guide, who stole Miss Taylor's provisions and who sought in every way to prevent her going on toward Lhassa. Unable to overcome her determination either by fraud or violence, he forsook her, going on in advance in order to arouse the authorities to11prevent her farther approach. On the way they passed by the Golok tribe, which is independent and has for its chief a woman named Wachubuma. She rules with authority, and seems to be intelligent and forceful. We have not room for the extended account which has been given of this extraordinary journey. Miss Taylor was obliged to cross rivers and to sleep for twenty nights in the open air without a tent, snow falling meanwhile. It was difficult to procure food for the party or their horses. Indeed, the horses gave out from lack of food. Owing to the lies of her Moslem escort and the fears that were aroused among the people that she was a witch and would rob them of their country, Miss Taylor was obliged to turn back before reaching Lhassa, and her return was accomplished with almost incredible hardships. She reached the borders of China on her return April 12, having been absent over seven months. She has now returned to England in the hope of finding men who will be ready to undertake missionary work in this forbidding region. The misfortune of Miss Taylor's expedition seemed to have been the villainous character of her Moslem guide, who sought not only to obstruct her journey but to take her life. Her Thibetan servant proved faithful and true. Though little was accomplished apparently by this particular journey, it certainly will tend to open the way for future entrance into this closed country. It is already reported that she has succeeded in securing a Thibetan band, consisting of ordained and medical men, who will undertake a mission on lines which she has marked out.—Missionary Herald. THE PROPER HOURS OF SLEEP.
MAN, in common with most of the animal creation, has accepted the plain suggestion of nature that the approach of night should imply a cessation of effort. If he ignores this principle, his work is done against inherited habit, and, so far, with additional fatigue. It follows, too, that he must use artificial light and sustain its combustion at the cost of his own atmosphere. Naturally, therefore, when he does rest, his relief is not proportioned to his weariness. As in many cases, however, sensation is not here the most reliable guide to judicious practice. Established custom affords a far truer indication of the method most compatible with healthy existence. The case of the overworked and the invalid lends but a deceptive color to the argument of the daylight sleeper. In them excessive waste of tissue must be made good, and sleep, always too scanty, is at any time useful for this purpose. For the healthy majority, however, the old custom of early rest and early waking is certain to prove in future—as returns of longevity and common experience alike show that it has proved in the past—most conducive to health and active life.—London Lancet. EAT SLOWLY.
By Dr. C. W. Lyman
FIRST, slow eating as a habit gives time for complete mastication, which also must be habitual. Next comes the matter of allowing time for food to become mingled with saliva, and for that saliva to act on it while in the mouth, whatever the consistence of the food may be. To merely wet and liquefy dry food is but a tithe of what the saliva performs. Many persons, indeed, bolt their softer foods and wash down the drier ones with tea or ice water, as if believing nothing more were called for. A ferment in the saliva, called ptyalin, acts on starchy food and partly digests it, by converting it into dextrin. However, this is not all that is done, by any means. Recent experiments show that when our food is first well acted upon by saliva, all the active secretions of the stomach are increased, its muscular workings are stimulated, and absorption is increased in amount and rapidity. It is a very important part of digestion that is carried on in the mouth and throat. In the latter an abundant secretion comes out to meet the food, containing thousands of living cells, supplied by the blood, and expressly bent on the errand of preparing the food, in some way, to be well received in the stomach, and to return with it into the blood. This product seems to be chiefly furnished by the tonsils. These vascular little bodies are thus seen to have a very real and important work.—Dr. C. W. Lyman. Conscience and Right and Wrong
"THE conscience has to do, not with fitness or expediency or advantage, but with right and wrong." Kindness to Animals Promotes Humanity
By Plutarch
Kindness to animals promotes humanity. "It might have been." Why should we always sigh,
As though the words related but to joy,
And not to grief, as though they rang the knell
To joy alone, as though the funeral bell
Had always rung and gladness passed us by?
Why not, when dark and threatening seems our sky,
And dangers pass us when they seemed most nigh,
Say of the peril past when all is well,
"It might have been"? The might-have-beens are many, and they lie
Close to the borders of our fate; and why
And how the choice is made we cannot tell;
But when misfortune comes, let's try to quell
Our fears, and of worse fortunes think, and cry,
"It might have been." RECENT letters from M. Allégret, of the new mission to the French Kongo country, give interesting accounts of the tribes among whom this mission has been established by the Société des Missions Évangéliques de Paris. The base of the mission is at the seacoast, at the mouth of the Ogowe River; farther up the river is its first station, at Lambaréné, among the Galoas, and still higher is Telagouga, the second station, among the Pahouins, a tribe which until now has never had any contact with our civilization. "They are still themselves, with their own good and bad instincts," says M. Allégret. They remind him of the ancient Gauls, active, impulsive, intense. They listen to the good news of the gospel with the same eagerness with which they follow the hunt or the fight. They fix their brilliant eyes upon the missionary when he tells them of heaven, "God's country, where he receives his children, and where there is no more death," for this is a burning question with them. They fear death; they think of it constantly; it is their great quarrel with God. They are always saying to me, 'We wish to love God, but we have one thing against him: Why does he make men die?' "The other day I went to a village and was immediately saluted by two or three men, who said, 'Tell us the news.' 'What news do you want to hear?' I said. 'I know only one kind, the best of all, the good news.' 'That is just what we want; tell us about God.' It is the thing which impresses me more every day, the pleasure they take in hearing about God. I do not think their consciences have anything to do with it; it is rather a desire to be clear on the subject. I may be mistaken, but apparently the sense of sin, of guilt before God, is utterly wanting, so that I dare not yet hope for real conversions. They think of God merely as a powerful chief with whom it would be well to make a treaty of friendship. . . . I see the Pahouins too near to have many illusions; but I know one thing, whatever be the motive of their attention, they do hear the word of God, and their villages are open to us, and the Holy Spirit can change this curiosity into a sincere desire for pardon and a new life. "They say to me in the villages: 'Do the schoolchildren learn all this? Then take my boy. Keep him. You shall be his father.' We have thus twenty-six boys and six girls, who are a daily encouragement to us by their conduct in school and by their trust in us. Thanks to them, we are brought into close relations with their families. "Lately the father of one of them wished to make a banana garden near us, and I went with him to choose the spot. I pointed out a good spot, but he said, 'It is too small; my wives could make a garden broader than the river if I wished it.' 'Ah! how many wives have you, then?' 'I have eight.' 'Eight! Then you have seven too many.' We sat down in the shade of some great trees and talked. 'Eight wives! But you know that the day when you wish to serve God it will be necessary to have only one.' After a moment's thought he answered: 'You have said well. It is true that I love God and wish to obey him, and then I believe that we Pahouins ought to become like the whites. You have only one wife?' 'It is not a matter of black or white,' I said, 'but of what God commands, and whether you will obey him.' 'I wish to obey him, but it is hard; all the other men of the village would mock me.'" To M. Allégret's explanations he replied: "You are right. You tell me the truth; it is necessary that I should obey God; and then—many wives, many troubles. They have a bad character; they quarrel; their parents are always coming to say, 'You have our daughter; give us this; give us that;' the wives too are always wanting something; there is never any end of giving them goods. If one refuses, there are quarrels, fights; perhaps one is killed. And God does not want one to have such a bad life, to go on thus. It is necessary that I should obey God. Tell me still the word of God; all we Pahouins love to hear one speak of God, and you, the man of God, you tell us his word." "I have been impressed," adds M. Allégret, "since my arrival in Africa by the inward sadness of things, and of men; it is some years since then, and I find this impression as vivid as on the first day. 'What is the good? everything passes away;' this is the deep, instinctive undertone of all the native life. 'You are without hope and without life; I bring you on the part of God the assurance of the life eternal;' this is what I repeat to them under every form."—Missionary Herald. SAYS the Christian Intelligence (Reformed Church):— "Evangelical Christians have been wont to look askance upon the Seventh-day Adventists as a body somewhat behind the other churches in intelligence and sobriety. Yet a fact was mentioned at the missionary conference held here in January last which shows that these people may well serve as a pattern in some respects to all others. They have a church at Battle Creek, Mich., composed of121,450 working people—not a rich man among them—having an average income of $262. "Yet their contributions to benevolent causes last year amounted to $38,000. The reason is that they are carefully indoctrinated in the principle and habit of giving a tenth of their income to the Lord's cause. Hence, recently, on the day of missions, no sermon was preached, nor was there any pleading of any kind, yet the offering amounted to $21,000. If all our churches had the same conscientious conviction deeply imbedded in their minds and hearts, surely every missionary treasury would overflow." It might be well to state that the $21,000 did not include tithes, but was over and above the tithe in most cases. And yet we as a people are not doing for the cause of Christ anything like what we ought to do. How much does Christ mean to us? Says the Missionary Herald: "The Ainus of Japan have long resisted the efforts of the English Church Mission to enlighten and Christianize them. In 1885 Mr. Batcheler baptized the first Ainu convert, in 1886 three more, and two each in 1889 and 1891. There were only eight Christians after twelve years of seed sowing. But since then the long-expected harvest time has come. One hundred and seventy-one persons have been baptized, making a church membership of 179, while 200 more are reckoned as catechumens. The center of this work is Piratori, the old Ainu capital, and, though the chief is a sad drunkard, every woman in the place has accepted Christ as her Saviour. Formerly only the men among the Ainus were allowed to have any religion. We hope to hear like joyful news of religious awakening from our friends of the American Baptist Mission among the Ainus." 'Tis well to work with a cheerful heart,
Wherever our fortunes call;
With a friendly glance and an open hand,
And a gentle word for all.
Since life is a thorny and difficult path,
Where toil is the portion of man,
We all should endeavor, while passing along,
To make it as smooth as we can.
—Selected. THE PREACHER'S PERSONAL PIETY.
By Baptist Record
Do NOT understand me to mean a maudlin sentimentality, or the assumed and extreme saintliness of manner and tone observed in some preachers, for each of these are evidences of either hypocrisy or weak minds. I do refer, however, to that piety which emanates from the heart which has not only been made new by the power of the Holy Spirit, but is constantly under its influence. By piety is meant "obedient love of the will of God and zealous devotion to his service." This you must seek. 1. For your own good. You are to be a leader in spiritual growth and power. It is impossible to become such a leader unless your heart shall be abundantly furnished with a strong, healthy piety. It embraces daily thoughts and actions. "He must have a good report of them which are without," applies as much to the young preacher now as it did to Timothy at the time it was written, for a frivolous and insincere preacher will never retain the respect of any community. A life above suspicion is of more consequence than learning or oratory. 2. Then you must be pious, for the good of others. It is not possible to lift the people to a moral plane which you have not reached. The minister of Jesus Christ must keep in heart touch with him, and then if he have access to the hearts of the people, he will bring them and Jesus Christ together. In preaching and pastoral work nothing gives so much force to what the preacher says and does as the consciousness on his and their part that he is a living witness of the truths he proclaims. He is such a witness because of an abiding faith in God's promises and providences and love, fervent and constant, flowing out towards Jesus Christ and the souls of men.—Baptist Record. "The Saints' Inheritance." (Spanish.) Contents: 1. The Inheritance of the Saints. 2. The Millennium, or the Reign of a Thousand Years. 3. The End of the Wicked. 4. Immortality through Christ. 5. The Importance of the Prophecies. 6. The Hope of the Christian. 7. The Judgment. Paper; price, 6 cents. Address, PACIFIC PRESS PUBLISHING Co., Oakland, Cal. Faithfulness in the humblest part
Is better at least than proud success;
And patience and love in a chastened heart
Are pearls more precious than happiness;
And in the morning when we shall awake
To the springtime freshness of youth again,
All troubles will seem but a flying flake,
And lifelong sorrow a breath on the pane.
—Selected.