Review and Herald, Vol. 38, No. 3. (7/4/1871)

Review and Herald

Jul 4, 1871

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 4, 1871

Solution of Problems relating to the Day Line.

By John Nevins Andrews

BY ELD. J. N. ANDREWS.

Several problems worthy of the candid attention of thoughtful men, and well calculated to perplex those who have never studied the subject of “the day line,” and “the course of day,” will now be stated for consideration. They have been used to stumble those who conscientiously observe as the Sabbath the day ordained in the commandment. As they will still be used for this purpose, it is fitting that they should here be stated, and their solution given. Indeed, those who have carefully studied the preceding articles of this series, can solve them without difficulty; while those who have thought the subject unworthy of their study, may see in these cases some need of understanding the matter. The first problem relates to the telegraph. The following statement of the case, which I take from the Scientific American, is substantially correct:—

“When the Russian-American telegraph is completed, the following feat will be possible: A telegram from Alaska for New York, leaving Sitka at 6:40 Monday morning, would be received at Nikolaaf, Siberia, at six minutes past one on Tuesday morning; at St. Petersburg, Russia, at three minutes past six Monday evening; at London at twenty-two minutes past four Monday afternoon, and at New York forty-six minutes past eleven Monday forenoon. Thus, allowing twenty minutes for each retransmission, a message may start on the morning of one day, to be received and transmitted the next day, again received and sent on the afternoon of the day it starts, and finally reach its destination on the forenoon of the first day; the whole taking place in one hour’s time.”

Although the above seems to one who has given the subject no thought, a thing incredible and absurd, yet it is substantially true, and by no means impossible or unreasonable. But there are some who will conclude on reading the statement of this wonderful telegraphic feat, that if this be true, then all distinction of days is absolutely confounded, and we may as well observe one day as another so far as any distinction between them is concerned. But let us not act hastily in drawing conclusions. The Author of the moral law is the Creator of the heaven and the earth. The laws of nature were framed by him, and there is no conflict between the two codes.

The moral law commands the observance of the seventh day, and there are no facts in nature which render it impossible for us to obey. Let us now consider the problem.

Observe, first, that the telegram is sent from the north-west coast of America to the city of New York. It is sent westward round the world, first crossing Behring’s Straits to Nikolaaf, in Siberia, thence westward to St. Petersburg, thence westward to London, and thence westward by the Atlantic cable to New York.

Observe, second, that in this statement the day is reckoned from midnight, and not from sunset. Indeed it should be borne in mind that the second day of the week, as reckoned in the Bible, and Monday, as now reckoned by mankind, very generally, are not synonymous; for the Bible days begin at sunset, and the days now in general use begin six hours later, viz., at midnight. We shall therefore recognize the Monday and the Tuesday of this problem as beginning at midnight, and this will introduce no new principle into the case.

Observe, third, that we have proved the existence of a day line, whence every day sets out on the circuit of the globe. And, further, bear in mind that we have shown that this line is located where the east and the west come together, where the extreme eastern verge of the old world makes its closest approach to the utmost western limit of the new; in other words, the line must be drawn north and south through the Pacific, through Behring’s Straits.

Observe, fourth, that the telegram sets out from the east side of the day line Monday morning at 6:40. But from the west side of that line a new day had set out at midnight (following the common reckoning of time), and on that side of the line the new day was some six hours old. In other words, though that midnight on the east side of that line was the midnight with which Monday commenced, it was on the west side of that line the midnight at which Tuesday began. As midnight is ever on the wing westward, and as it takes it just twenty-four hours to go round the world, when it was Monday morning on the east side of that line on the American shore, it was on the west side of that line on the Asiatic shore, Tuesday morning; and midnight which began Tuesday on the west side of the line has carried the beginning of Tuesday one-quarter of the way round the world.

Observe, fifth, that we have shown in a former article how two days can exist at the same time upon our globe, and here we have a fair example of it. For at the moment that our telegram sets out at 6:40 Monday morning from the east side of the day line, Tuesday having started from the west side of that line with midnight, nearly six hours before, has journeyed about one-fourth of the way round the world. And now behold the two days. Tuesday has accomplished one-fourth of the circumference of the globe, and is constantly advancing in the train of midnight, while Monday, that yet holds three-fourths of the globe, is retiring as Tuesday advances.

Observe, sixth, that as we trace this matter westward round the world, outrunning, in our minds, the course of day, when we have gone one-fourth of the distance, we are at the place of midnight with Monday retiring, and Tuesday advancing, with the wings of midnight. If we instantly strike ahead still another fourth of the circuit of the globe to the westward, it is six o’clock Monday afternoon. And if we do this again in an instant, we find it to be the noon of Monday where we then are. And, finally, if we once more strike ahead to the west one-fourth of the world’s circumference, we reach our starting point and find it to be Monday morning just as we left it.

Observe, seventh, that though we can do this only in imagination, the telegraphic message can make this journey in reality. It is therefore possible, and may be of frequent occurrence hereafter, that a telegram may be sent, like the one in this problem, from the east side of the day line, say on Monday morning, across one-fourth or one-third the circumference of the globe, where it is Tuesday, thence into that part where Monday still exists.

The principles established in the former articles cover the whole ground: 1. There is a day line at which every day begins earliest of all. 2. That each day requires twenty-four hours to advance round the world as its predecessor retires before it, and also twenty-four hours to retire from the course as its successor advances behind it. 3. That therefore every day of the week has a definite course of forty-eight hours around our globe from its commencement at the point where it begins first of all, to its close at that point where it finishes its circuit. 4. That therefore two days are constantly making the circuit of our globe, one advancing and the other retiring before it, with the exception of one single instant each twenty-four hours, when midnight (following the common reckoning) has just accomplished the circuit of our globe. This is only an atom of time; at all other moments during the twenty-four hours, two days are making the circuit of the globe, and we may therefore readily understand how we can telegraph from a part of the world where one day exists, through another part where another day exists, forward into the part from which our message set out, and where that first day still exists.

Observe, finally, that the fact which lies at the foundation of the whole matter is this: God has given us the reckoning of relative rather than absolute time. Had he given us the computation of absolute time, that is, of days that begin at the same instant the world over, there could be no such thing as two days in existence at the same time. But as he has given us days that begin at a certain point, and thence go round the world, one day is constantly advancing, and another continually retiring before it, with the exception of a single instant each day as already noticed. We call this relative time, because it is later at each place than at the day line in proportion as that place is distant from it. It is therefore easy to understand how every statement of the case before us can be true, and yet no confusion of the days of the week exist.

Now we have a problem for solution that is of peculiar interest. It has a direct and manifest bearing upon the question of the Sabbath. I find it in the Advent Herald of March 6, 1852, copied into that paper from the Family Treasury. Here it is:

“A NUT FOR SABBATARIANS.”

“When the first English missionaries went to Tahiti, they passed round the Cape of Good Hope to the east; and the American missionaries to Hawaii passed round Cape Horn to the west. As a necessary consequence, there is between them the difference of one day and one night in the reckoning of time. And, hence, for thirty years there has existed, and still exists, in the Pacific Ocean, this singular fact—two groups of islands lying on nearly the same degree of longitude, and not further apart than New York and London, and yet their inhabitants, who are Christianized, observing the Sabbath on different days of the week.

“This singular fact may be explained even to the comprehension of children. The most of our young readers are sufficiently acquainted with astronomical geography to know that the succession of day and night is caused by the apparent revolution of the sun from east to west, or the actual revolution of the earth on its axis from west to east. If, then, a person should set out and travel entirely around the world, in the same direction with the earth’s motion, he would gain one apparent revolution of the sun, or exactly one day and night.

“Or, if he should go in the opposite direction, or with the sun, he would lose one apparent revolution of the sun, or one day and night. Therefore, if two persons should travel around the earth in opposite directions, when they met at the point they started from, they would differ exactly two days in their reckoning of time; the one being one day ahead, and the other one day behind the reckoning of those who had remained stationary in the place. Or if they met on the other side of the globe and compared notes, they would have differed one day, the one having gained, and the other having lost just half a revolution of the earth on its axis.

“This consideration explains the above remarkable fact now existing in the evangelized islands of the Pacific Ocean. If you should go west to the Sandwich Islands, you find them keeping the Sabbath on the same day with yourselves. If, then, you should pass almost directly south, to the Society Islands, you would find that their Sabbath had occurred the day before yours. Or, if you go from here east, and stop at the Society Islands, you would find them keeping the Sabbath on the same day with yourselves. Then pass north to the Sandwich Islands, their Sabbath would occur the day after yours.

“You see, then, both are right and both are wrong. How shall they be brought together? If the inhabitants of either group shall sail entirely round the world, in a direction to that in which the first missionaries came, they would both agree in the days of the week. The same thing can be effected only by dropping or adding one day of the week in their respective calendars. But which shall do it is the point of difficulty to be determined.”

This statement is worthy of special attention. Here are two groups of islands, one of which is directly north of the other, so that they lie on almost the same meridian, and yet in their reckoning of time, one group is twenty-four hours in advance of the other. Why is this? Observe the deductions of the writer of the article. He heads it, “A nut for Sabbatarians.” And he argues from it that no definite day can be observed by all mankind. The reasoning is wholly uncandid, for the writer holds that the first day of the week should be observed in memory of Christ’s resurrection. The case under consideration might, therefore, with equal propriety be termed, “A nut for Sunday-keepers;” or, “A nut for those who esteem one day above another.” The writer, however, chooses to make his point against the seventh day, well knowing that unless he can show that a definite day cannot exist on all the globe, the claims of that day must be acknowledged as the Sabbath of the Lord. But though it is true that the difficulty in this case pertains to the first day just as much as the seventh; yet, as first-day observers constantly use arguments of this kind to show that the seventh day cannot be observed over all the world, and that we may, therefore, just as well comply with the prevailing first-day custom, it is very proper that we should accept this “nut for Sabbatarians.” Nor is it difficult to crack the nut and to show who is entitled to the meat, and who is worthy only of the shell.

Observe, then, first of all, that the location of this remarkable difference in time between two groups of islands on the same meridian, is in the Pacific Ocean. In this ocean, and nowhere else, is such a case possible; or, rather no change of days can ever take place with any navigation, except from crossing this ocean. What the writer says concerning the gain or loss of one apparent revolution of the sun, by those who circumnavigate the globe, is strictly true. And as the gain of one day in our count is by going east, and the loss of one day in that count is by going west, let us see how it is done each time. As we go east the sunset comes earlier each day. But understand: if the sunset comes at six o’clock where you set out, the sunset may be at the same hour by the clock the next evening, but in consequence of your traveling toward the source of day you meet that hour the second evening in less than twenty-four hours from the sunset of the first evening. The rising and setting of the sun, if you journey due east, will be at the same hour by the clock each day that it would be if you remained at home. But as you go east to meet the day, there is something less than twenty-four hours between each sunset, though sunset will be at the same hour by the clock as at the place from which we set out. In like manner is it that the sun sets later each evening as we go west. All understand that the sun sets earlier in Asia than it does here, and also that it sets later in California than here. There must be a point where it sets earliest of all, and another where it sets latest of all. But is not this indicated by some remarkable phenomenon of the heavens? By no means. If we could follow round the world with the swiftness of the sun, keeping all the time upon the same parallel of latitude, we should find that the sun sets at very nearly the same hour by the clock to all the people upon that parallel for the whole circuit of the globe. If, therefore, the sun sets with us at six

o’clock at a certain time in the year, that is the hour of sunset due east of us to the point where it sets earliest of all; and due west of us to that point where it sets latest of all.

That also is the hour of sunset at these two extreme points. For though the sun sets earlier in the east than here, and later in the west than here, it is because that the hour of sunset, as indicated by the clock, comes as much earlier, or as much later, as it requires for the sun to come from the east to us, or to go from us to the west. The sun will, therefore, set where it sets earliest of all at the same hour at which it sets with us by the clock; and in like manner it will set where it sets latest of all at the same hour by the clock as with us. So, though the sun sets at the same hour by the clock at each of these two extremes, and though they meet so that only a line divides between them, yet the six o’clock at which the sun sets on the east side of that line pertains to one day, and on the west side of that line to the next day. The two extremes are, therefore, just twenty-four hours apart, though they touch each other; the line which separates them representing in time just the period which it takes the sun to make the circuit of the globe from the west side of that line round to the east side of it. As the period of just twenty-four hours is represented by that line, there is nothing in the appearance of the heavens, or in the hour by the watch, to indicate this transition. Men may, therefore, pass this line without being aware of that fact. But the first vessel which they meet from the other side of the globe will be one day of the week different in time from themselves. This is a sure proof that they have crossed that line whence each day sets out to make the circuit of the globe. This is what we call the day line, and it is the existence of this line in the Pacific Ocean that makes it necessary for all mariners to change their reckoning one day in crossing that ocean.

Observe, second, that though the necessity for this change of twenty-four hours in our reckoning in crossing the day line is exactly accounted for by the fact that that line represents in time the journey which the sun makes from its west side round the world to its east side; and while we may mark every step in this change, by journeying round the world with the sun, it is worthy of special notice that this change becomes a necessity to us if we cross the Pacific, though we do nothing more. We need make only this part of the circuit of the world to be compelled to change our count of the days; for the day line is in this ocean. And that it is nowhere else, is proved by the fact that the circuit of the entire globe, except that ocean, may be made either way, and no change be required in our reckoning.

Observe, third, that if it be denied that the tracing of the day eastward to the point where it begins earliest of all, and westward to the point where it begins latest of all, will cause the two to meet at a line where they are just twenty-four hours apart; that is, where the same hour will on one side of the line belong to one day, and on the other side to the next, then we will suppose that this westward journey be continued till the circuit of the globe is made, and, behold, we find that the day begins latest of all at the point from which we started! And continuing the other, or eastward flight, we find it to begin earlier as we go east, till we complete this eastern circuit at the point from which we started, and find that the day begins earliest of all! These two contradictory falsehoods are the necessary consequence of the denial of the day line.

Now let us come directly to the case of these islands of the Pacific. The Sandwich Islands received the gospel from missionaries who went to them westward around Cape Horn, the southern point of South America. The Society Islands, on the contrary, received the gospel from missionaries who went to them eastward around the Cape of Good Hope. When these missionaries started from home they had the same day; but when they reached the same meridian in the Pacific Ocean, behold, they were twenty-four hours apart! Here note two things:

1. There is a line in the Pacific Ocean at which each day begins earliest of all, and at which also it ends latest of all. Consequently there is a difference of twenty-four hours in the two sides of this line. 2. One party or the other had of necessity crossed this line, for they were now on the same meridian, and yet they were just one day apart.

This case does, therefore, present most palpable evidence of the existence of the day line, and of its location in the Pacific.

And now if the reader will refer back to the argument on the place of the day line, and then consult the map of the Pacific Ocean, he will see at once which party of missionaries had crossed that line. The Sandwich Islands in the North Pacific Ocean, and the Society Islands directly to the south of them in the South Pacific, lie at some distance to the east of the north-western extremity of South America. It is, therefore, perfectly plain that the missionaries who went eastward to the Society Islands crossed the day line in going thither. It is equally plain that the missionaries who went west to the Sandwich Islands did not cross that line in making that journey, for that line lies to the west of these islands. As the day starts on its western course around our world from the west side of that line, and as these two groups of islands lie some distance to the east of that line, the missionaries who went east to the Society Islands, carried the reckoning of the day from where it begins earliest of all (viz., on the west side of the day line) to where it begins latest of all (viz., on the east side of that line), thus bringing the commencement of the course of day round into that part of the world where the course of day ends, and were thus one day in advance of the true time of their reckoning; that is to say, they had the same time where the course of day ends, that exists where that course begins, which is an error of twenty-four hours; or, rather, they actually had the day begin earliest of all at some distance to the east of the day line.

Observe in this case a most convincing proof of what has been said relative to tracing back the day east to where it begins earliest of all, and tracing it forward west to where it begins latest of all, and finding that these two extremes meet at a point, or line, where they are just twenty-four hours apart. The missionaries who went west reached their destination just before coming to the day line. The missionaries who went east crossed that line just before reaching their field of labor. But as they did not change their reckoning in passing from the beginning of the course of day to the close of that course, they practically moved the day line eastward to the Society Islands, and thus found themselves, when they came to learn of the work at the Sandwich Islands, one day in advance of those who came thither westward.

Evidently those missionaries had no thought that such a line existed. Had they understood it, they would have seen that the day which begins its course on the west side of that line, does not cease to exist till it has come round the world to the east side of that line, and there finished its circuit, requiring for this the space of forty-eight hours, as was shown in what was said in the course of day. Had they seen this, they would have understood that the east side of that line is of necessity twenty-four hours behind the west side. And recognizing this fact when they crossed that line, they would have said in substance: “This line represents the time of the sun’s circuit of our globe. We are passing from the beginning of the course of day to where it is twenty-four hours later. We must, therefore, fall back twenty-four hours in order to have just the same time that the place has to which we are now come.”

They did not do this. The consequence is that the Society Islands now observe the true seventh day under the mistaken idea that they are keeping the first day of the week. If the Sunday advocates, who bring up this case for the purpose of confounding those who keep the seventh day, still claim, now that their nut is cracked, that their share of it is best, it is because they like the shell of the nut better than they do the meat. In our next we shall see that subsequent missionaries to other islands learned wisdom by the error of those who established the keeping of “Saturday for Sunday” at the Society Islands. The case in question is often cited to prove that the days of the week are indefinite. We have seen on examination that it is itself a most convincing testimony to their distinct and definite existence the world over.

TO THEE,

I bring my sins to Thee, The sins I cannot count, That all may cleansed be In thy once-opened Fount. I bring them, Saviour, all to thee, The burden is too great for me.

My heart to thee I bring, The heart I cannot read; A faithless, wandering thing, An evil heart indeed. I bring it, Saviour, now to thee, That fixed and faithful it may be.

To thee I bring my care, The care I cannot flee; Thou wilt not only share, But take it all for me. O loving Saviour, now to thee I bring the load that wearies me.

I bring my grief to thee, The grief I cannot tell; No words will needed be, Thou knowest all so well. I bring the sorrow laid on me, O suffering Saviour, all to thee.

My joys to thee I bring, The joys thy love has given, That each may be a wing To lift me nearer Heaven. I bring them, Saviour, all to thee, Who hast procured them all for me.

My life I bring to thee, I would not be my own; O Saviour, let me be Thine ever, thine alone! My heart, my life, my all, I bring, To thee, my Saviour and my King.

—Sel.

R. J. LAWRENCE

By R. J. Lawrence

Mark 2: 18–22.

“AND the disciples of John and of the Pharisees used to fast; and they come unto him and say, Why do the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but thy disciples fast not? And Jesus said unto them, Can the children of the bride-chamber fast while the bridegroom is with them? As long as they have the bridegroom with them, they cannot fast. But the days will come when the bridegroom shall be taken away from them, and then shall they fast in those days. No man also seweth a piece of new cloth on an old garment; else the new piece that filled it up taketh away from the old, and the rent is made worse. And no man putteth new wine into old bottles, else the new wine doth burst the bottles, and the wine is spilled, and the bottles will be marred; but new wine must be put into new bottles.”

What is termed fast here, in Matt. 9: 15, is called mourn; so that abstinence from food, or the use of plain food in times of affliction or mourning, and prayer, were practiced anciently. See 1 Sam. 1: 8–17; 2 Sam. 12: 16–23; Dan. 10: 2, 3. From these quotations we learn that seasons of fasting were seasons of abstinence, at least from pleasant food, and of mourning, or humiliation, and prayer. The question in the text is, Why do the disciples of John and of the Pharisees fast, but thy disciples fast not? This is the same as saying, We, the disciples of John and of the Pharisees, mourn and afflict ourselves, and pray, but yours are happy, yours are not afflicted. Now, why is this? Jesus says, Can the children of the bride-chamber fast while the bridegroom is with them? They cannot now mourn, they cannot be afflicted; but when the bridegroom is taken away, then shall they mourn, or fast. The Jewish system pointed to Christ or the bridegroom; so that as long as he remained away they fasted or mourned. John came, baptizing, and pointing the people to One yet to come. These fasted, or mourned, for the coming of One who had already come. Who are these referred to? The Pharisees and the disciples of John, and not the disciples of Christ. His disciples had received the bridegroom. Christ was with them. How, then, could they mourn, or fast? They could but rejoice. But the bridegroom shall be taken away, then shall they fast. This refers to the death, resurrection, and ascension, of Christ. He was taken from them; did they then fast? Acts 13: 2: “As they ministered to the Lord and fasted [or mourned],” &c. So long, then, as the bridegroom remains away, the children of the bride-chamber mourn.

Now, the parables are introduced to make the point more plain. The new cloth on the old garment, and the new wine in the old bottles, are different figures to illustrate the same thing; viz., That for the disciples of Christ to mix their joy and rejoicing with the mourning and fasting of the Pharisees, for that to take place which had already taken place, would be like putting new cloth in an old, worn garment, or like putting new, unfermented wine into old, tender goatskin bottles. Could they unite in those fastings? Experience teaches us that to unite with those we have left, or to talk out the source of our joy, would be to wake up a terrible prejudice or cause a terrible rent among them. Understand, the rent is in the old cloth and not in the new. The new remains whole. So in the parable. But new wine must be put into new bottles; and both are preserved; Luke 5: 38; that is, the truth of the gospel must be put into honest and true hearts converted to God; for the old or carnal heart cannot retain it, though it be deposited there. “No man having drunk old wine straightway desireth the new; for he saith the old is better.” Luke 5: 38, 39. That is, the Pharisees held on to their system of types and ceremonies, saying, We are Moses’ disciples, away with this man. Therefore they continue fasting, and are still mourning for the bridegroom to come.

R. J. LAWRENCE

Brockway Center, June 22, 1871.

The Motive.

By Mary E. Guilford

We occasionally meet with those who, professedly, “keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus,” who regard certain requirements as not essential to salvation, and, therefore, wholly ignore them. Do such individuals weigh well the motive that actuates them? Do they realize that their service to God is purely selfish? They yield obedience to God only so far as they think will secure to them eternal life. Vain hope! None will receive eternal life, save those who yield cheerful obedience to their Creator in all things whatsoever he requires of them. If he sees fit to reveal to us certain duties to perform, or crosses to bear, humiliating though they be, we should, with cheerful hearts, immediately lift the cross, and, with alacrity and earnestness, go about the work given us to do. We should never, for one moment, ponder in our hearts the question, Is this necessary? Is this essential to my salvation? We should have a nobler aim, a higher object in view than merely to secure eternal life. Our chief object should be to glorify God. We should esteem it a blessed privilege to do those things which our Heavenly Father would be pleased to have us do.

There is no such thing as non-essentials in the religion of Jesus Christ. When the Lord speaks, it is our duty to obey. Every requirement of God is founded in wisdom, and answers some wise purpose, in refining and fitting up a people to dwell in his holy presence. “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” Matt. 22: 37. Can we have this supreme love to God without manifesting it? If we love God with all the heart, soul, and mind, will we not obey him? Obedience is the test of love. Be not deceived nor mocked with a false hope. Nothing short of implicit obedience will secure the favor of God. “Not every one that saith unto Me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in Heaven.” Matt. 7: 21.

Oh! let us awake to earnestness in this work. Let us take heed to our ways, and be attentive to all the requirements of God. May pure motives underlie all our actions. May we be “steadfast, immovable,” and ever strive to “walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work,” that we may finally, when earth’s toils are over, hear the welcome, “Well done; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

MARY E. GUILFORD.

Castalia, Ohio.

A Peculiar People.

By C. A. Osgood

GREAT and precious promises are made to the people of God in his word. The inheritance of the saints will be given to those, and those only, who become worthy to possess it. Such peculiar blessings can be enjoyed only by those who become “a peculiar people, zealous of good works.” The multitude around us are living in sin. They are “lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God.” Many of them have the form of godliness, but are destitute of its power. They are “lovers of their own selves.”

If we would enter into life, we must really be of that little flock to whom the Father will give the kingdom. These bow in submission to the will of God. They do not refuse to bear reproach for the name of Jesus. While the many are living to gratify and glorify self, God’s peculiar people feel and acknowledge that they are not their own, but the Lord’s. They deny themselves and bear the cross. They live not to themselves, but to him who died for them. Their anxious inquiry is, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” They have a spirit within them unlike the men of the world. Love to God and man now reigns where selfishness did once.

God requires that our speech should be peculiar. The organs of speech should be used in praising God, and in uttering words that shall instruct and bless mankind; not in uttering curses, words that are not true, or words of self-praise; but in holding forth Christ and truth.

The manners and dress of the true disciple of Christ are peculiar. We are called upon, not to imitate a gay and proud world, but to learn of Him who was “meek and lowly in heart,” and “to walk in his steps.” The Christian is commanded not to be adorned “with gold or pearls, or costly array,” but to wear “the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.”

A world of sinners blind to the signs of the times, may live to gratify their vitiated appetites, and thus sow the seeds which will produce corruption; but the children of God must keep their bodies under, by being temperate in all things, that they may glorify God, both in their bodies and their spirits which are his. In this age of the world, when men live to eat and drink, Christ’s waiting ones must not be “overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness.” True, men think it strange that we do not run to “the same excess of riot” that we once did; but the time past may suffice us to have done these things. As the “end of all things is at hand, let us be sober and watch unto prayer,” that with God’s little flock we may receive the kingdom. C. A. OSGOOD.

Controlling Anger and One’s Spirit

He who can suppress a moment’s anger may prevent days of sorrow.

He who rules not his own spirit will likely be ruled by an evil spirit.

The Simplest Work

To do the simplest work is to save religion from the most aggravated misanthropy. For a man to light his last candle and set it in the window of his cot, with the hope that it may catch the eager eye of the struggling mariner, who would give the world for light, is to please God more than to perform the most stately ceremony, as if the earth were no longer the abode of suffering humanity.—Joseph Parker, D. D.

Continue reading: Men and Things