Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Nov 16, 1882
General Articles.
By Ellen G. White
Bible Sanctification.
BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.
JOHN IN EXILE.
The wonderful success which attended the preaching of the gospel by the apostles and their fellow-laborers increased the hatred of the enemies of Christ. They made every effort to hinder its progress, and finally succeeded in enlisting the power of the Roman emperor against the Christians. A terrible persecution ensued, in which many of the followers of Christ were put to death. The apostle John was now an aged man; but with great zeal and success he continued to preach the doctrine of Christ. He had a testimony of power, which his adversaries could not controvert, and which greatly encouraged his brethren.
When the faith of the Christians would seem to waver under the fierce opposition they were forced to meet, the apostle would repeat, with great dignity, power, and eloquence, "That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life; . . . . that which we have seen and heard, declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."
The bitterest hatred was kindled against John for his unwavering fidelity to the cause of Christ. He was the last survivor of the disciples who were intimately connected with Jesus; and his enemies decided that his testimony must be silenced. If this could be accomplished, they thought the doctrine of Christ would not spread; and if treated with severity, it might soon die out of the world. John was accordingly summoned to Rome to be tried for his faith. His doctrines were misstated. False witnesses accused him as a seditious person publicly teaching theories which would subvert the nation.
The apostle presented his faith in a clear and convincing manner, with such simplicity and candor that his words had a powerful effect. His hearers were astonished at his wisdom and eloquence. But the more convincing his testimony, the deeper the hatred of those who opposed the truth. The emperor was filled with rage, and blasphemed the name of God and of Christ. He could not controvert the apostle's reasoning, nor match the power which attended the utterance of truth, and he determined to silence its faithful advocate.
Here we see how hard the heart may become when obstinately set against the purposes of God. The foes of the church were determined to maintain their pride and power before the people. By the emperor's decree, John was banished to the Isle of Patmos, condemned, as he tells us, "for the word of God, and for the testimony of Jesus Christ." But the enemies of Christ utterly failed in their purpose to silence his faithful witness. From his place of exile comes the apostle's voice, reaching even to the end of time, proclaiming the most thrilling truths ever presented to mortals.
Patmos, a barren, rocky island in the Ægean Sea, had been chosen by the Roman government as a place of banishment for criminals. But to the servant of God, this gloomy abode proved to be the gate of Heaven. He was shut away from the busy scenes of life, and from active labor as an evangelist; but he was not excluded from the presence of God. In his desolate home he could commune with the King of kings, and study more closely the manifestations of divine power in the book of nature and the pages of inspiration. He delighted to meditate upon the great work of creation, and to adore the power of the Divine Architect. In former years his eyes had been greeted with the sight of wood-covered hills, green valleys, and fruitful plains; and in all the beauties of nature he had delighted to trace the wisdom and skill of the Creator. He was now surrounded with scenes that to many would appear gloomy and uninteresting. But to John it was otherwise. He could read the most important lessons in the wild, desolate rocks, the mysteries of the great deep, and the glories of the firmament. To him, all bore the impress of God's power, and declared his glory.
The apostle beheld around him the witnesses of the flood, which deluged the earth because the inhabitants ventured to transgress the law of God. The rocks thrown up from the great deep and from the earth, by the breaking forth of the waters, brought vividly to his mind the terrors of that awful outpouring of God's wrath.
But while all that surrounded him below appeared desolate and barren, the blue heavens that bent above the apostle on lonely Patmos were as bright and beautiful as the skies above his own loved Jerusalem. Let man once look upon the glory of the heavens in the night season, and mark the work of God's power in the hosts thereof, and he is taught a lesson of the greatness of the Creator in contrast with his own littleness. If he has cherished pride and self-importance because of wealth, or talents, or personal attractions, let him go out in the beautiful night, and look upon the starry heavens, and learn to humble his proud spirit in the presence of the Infinite One.
In the voice of many waters,—deep calling unto deep,—the prophet heard the voice of the Creator. The sea, lashed to fury by the merciless winds, represented to him the wrath of an offended God. The mighty waves, in their most terrible commotion restrained within the limits appointed by an invisible hand, spoke to John of an infinite power controlling the deep. And in contrast he saw and felt the folly of feeble mortals, but worms of the dust, who glory in their wisdom and strength, and set their hearts against the Ruler of the universe, as though God were altogether such an one as themselves. How blind and senseless is human pride! One hour of God's blessing in the sunshine and rain upon the earth, will do more to change the face of nature than man, with all his boasted knowledge and persevering efforts, can accomplish during a lifetime.
In the surroundings of his island home, the exiled prophet read the manifestations of divine power, and in all the works of nature held communion with his God. The most ardent longing of the soul after God, the most fervent prayers, went up to Heaven from rocky Patmos. As John looked upon the rocks, he was reminded of Christ, the rock of his strength, in whose shelter he could hide without a fear.
The Lord's day mentioned by John was the Sabbath,—the day on which Jehovah rested after the great work of creation, and which he blessed and sanctified because he had rested upon it. The Sabbath was as sacredly observed by John upon the Isle of Patmos as when he was among the people, preaching upon that day. By the barren rocks surrounding him, John was reminded of rocky Horeb, and how, when God spoke his law to the people there, he said, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy."
The Son of God spoke to Moses from the mountain top. God made the rocks his sanctuary. His temple was the everlasting hills. The Divine Legislator descended upon the rocky mountain to speak his law in the hearing of all the people, that they might be impressed by the grand and awful exhibition of his power and glory, and fear to transgress his commandments. God spoke his law amid thunders and lightnings and the thick cloud upon the top of the mountain, and his voice was as the voice of a trumpet exceeding loud. The law of Jehovah was unchangeable, and the tablets upon which he wrote that law were solid rock, signifying the immutability of his precepts. Rocky Horeb became a sacred place to all who loved and revered the law of God.
While John was contemplating the scenes of Horeb, the Spirit of Him who sanctified the seventh day, came upon him. He contemplated the sin of Adam in transgressing the divine law, and the fearful result of that transgression. The infinite love of God, in giving his Son to redeem a lost race, seemed too great for language to express. As he presents it in his epistle, he calls upon the church and the world to behold it. "Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God; therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not." It was a mystery to John that God could give his Son to die for rebellious man. And he was lost in amazement that the plan of salvation, devised at such a cost to Heaven, should be refused by those for whom the infinite sacrifice had been made.
John was shut in with God. As he learned more of the divine character, through the works of creation, his reverence for God increased. He often asked himself, Why do not men, who are wholly dependent upon God, seek to be at peace with him by willing obedience? He is infinite in wisdom, and there is no limit to his power. He controls the heavens with their numberless worlds. He preserves in perfect harmony the grandeur and beauty of the things which he has created. Sin is the transgression of God's law; and the penalty of sin is death. There would have been no discord in Heaven or in the earth, if sin had never entered. Disobedience to God's law has brought all the misery that has existed among his creatures. Why will not men be reconciled to God?
It is no light matter to sin against God,—to set the perverse will of man in opposition to the will of his Maker. It is for the best interest of men, even in this world, to obey God's commandments. And it is surely for their eternal interest to submit to God, and be at peace with him. The beasts of the field obey their Creator's law in the instinct which governs them. He speaks to the proud ocean, "Hitherto shalt thou come, but no further;"506and the waters are prompt to obey his word. The planets are marshaled in perfect order, obeying the laws which God has established. Of all the creatures that God has made upon the earth, man alone is rebellious. Yet he possesses reasoning powers to understand the claims of the divine law, and a conscience to feel the guilt of transgression and the peace and joy of obedience. God made him a free moral agent, to obey or disobey. The reward of everlasting life,—an eternal weight of glory,—is promised to those who do God's will, while the threatenings of his wrath hang over all who defy his law.
As John meditated upon the glory of God displayed in his works, he was overwhelmed with the greatness and majesty of the Creator. Should all the inhabitants of this little world refuse obedience to God, he would not be left without glory. He could sweep every mortal from the face of the earth in a moment, and create a new race to people it and glorify his name. God is not dependent on man for honor. He could marshal the starry hosts of heaven, the millions of worlds above, to raise a song of honor and praise and glory to their Creator. "And the heavens shall praise thy wonders, O Lord; thy faithfulness also in the congregation of the saints. For who in the heaven can be compared unto the Lord? who among the sons of the mighty can be likened unto the Lord? God is greatly to be feared in the assembly of the saints, and to be had in reverence of all them that are about him."
John calls to remembrance the wonderful incidents that he had witnessed in the life of Christ. In imagination he again enjoys the precious opportunities with which he was once favored, and is greatly comforted. Suddenly his meditation is broken in upon; he is addressed in tones distinct and clear. He turns to see from whence the voice proceeds, and lo! he beholds his Lord, whom he has loved, with whom he has walked and talked, and whose sufferings upon the cross he has witnessed. But how changed is the Saviour's appearance! He is no longer "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." He bears no marks of his humiliation. His eyes are like a flame of fire; his feet like fine brass, as it glows in a furnace. The tones of his voice are like the musical sound of many waters. His countenance shines like the sun in its meridian glory. In his hand are seven stars, representing the ministers of the churches. Out of his mouth issues a sharp, two-edged sword, an emblem of the power of his word.
John, who has so loved his Lord, and who has steadfastly adhered to the truth in the face of imprisonment, stripes, and threatened death, can not endure the excellent glory of Christ's presence, and falls to the earth as one stricken dead. Jesus then lays his hand upon the prostrate form of his servant, saying, "Fear not. I am He that liveth and was dead; and behold, I am alive forevermore." John was strengthened to live in the presence of his glorified Lord; and then were presented before him in holy vision the purposes of God for future ages. The glorious attractions of the heavenly home were made known to him. He was permitted to look upon the throne of God, and to behold the white-robed throng of redeemed ones. He heard the music of heavenly angels, and the songs of triumph from those who had overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony.
To the beloved disciple were granted such exalted privileges as have rarely been vouchsafed to mortals. Yet so closely had he become assimilated to the character of Christ, that pride found no place in his heart. His humility did not consist in a mere profession; it was a grace that clothed him as naturally as a garment. He ever sought to conceal his own righteous acts, and to avoid everything that would seem to attract attention to himself. In his gospel, John mentions the disciple whom Jesus loved, but conceals the fact that the one thus honored was himself. His course was devoid of selfishness. In his daily life he taught and practiced charity in the fullest sense. He had a high sense of the love that should exist among natural brothers and Christian brethren. He presents and urges this love as an essential characteristic of the followers of Jesus. Destitute of this, all pretensions to the Christian name are vain.
John was a teacher of practical holiness. He presents unerring rules for the conduct of Christians. They must be pure in heart, and correct in manners. In no case should they be satisfied with an empty profession. He declares in unmistakable terms that to be a Christian is to be Christlike.
The life of John was one of earnest effort to conform to the will of God. The apostle followed his Saviour so closely, and had such a sense of the purity and exalted holiness of Christ, that his own character appeared, in contrast, exceedingly defective. And when Jesus in his glorified body appeared to John, one glimpse was enough to cause him to fall down as one dead. Such will ever be the feelings of those who know best their Lord and Master. The more closely they contemplate the life and character of Jesus, the more deeply will they feel their own sinfulness, and the less will they be disposed to claim holiness of heart, or to boast of their sanctification.
PATIENT WAITING.
Not now, my child—a little more rough tossing,
A little longer on the billow's foam;
A few more journeyings in the desert darkness,
And then the sunshine of thy Father's home!
Not now; for I have wanderers in the distance,
And thou must call them in with patient love;
Not now; for I have sheep upon the mountains,
And thou must follow them where'er they rove.
Not now; for I have loved ones sad and weary;
Wilt thou cheer them with a kindly smile?
Sick ones, who need thee in their lonely sorrow;
Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while?
Not now: for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding,
And thou must teach those widowed hearts to sing;
Not now; for orphan's tears are quickly falling;
They must be gathered 'neath some sheltering wing.
Go, with the name of Jesus, to the dying;
And speak that name in all its living power;
Why should thy fainting heart grow chill and weary?
Canst thou not watch with me one little hour?
One little hour! and then the glorious crowning;
The golden harp strings and the victor's palm.
One little hour! and then the hallelujah!
Eternity's long, deep, thanksgiving psalm!
Comparison of Nature and Morality.
THE opposers of the Bible and of Bible truth have often declared that Christianity is opposed to reason, and that Nature presents to us a revelation more beautiful, harmonious, and important, than anything contained in the Bible. Especially has the doctrine of the Atonement been made the subject of opposition by both professed reasoning and ridicule. The object of this argument is to show that reason is not opposed to the idea of the Atonement, but rather leads to it; that a coincidence of strict justice and mercy demands it; and that a written revelation is but the supply of an acknowledged want; that the gift of such a revelation is a conformity to the plainest, simplest principles of government—of principles which are universally recognized. And, therefore, consistency requires that such revelation be universally received.
That Nature makes to us a better revelation than the Bible, I, of course, deny. Nature, as says the psalmist, “declares the glory of God,” and may thus arouse us to feelings of devotion; but Nature cannot guide us in our devotions; she does not inform us how to please and worship the Creator. The Bible and Nature never come in conflict; but the Bible leads into a field of truth where Nature makes no attempt to follow. We attach no blame to Nature because it does not perform the office of a written revelation. It was not designed for such a purpose. When we have learned all that we can learn from Nature, we find beyond that a plain necessity for a written revelation. I invite the devotees of Nature to an examination of this point.
The present is a mixed state, of good and evil. Confined in our views to the present state, and to observation, or to mere reason without a written revelation, it is impossible to vindicate the justice of the controlling power, whether that power be called God or Nature. Virtue is often trampled in the dust, and ignominiously perishes in its representatives. Vice is exalted on high, triumphs over justice and right, and its very grave is decorated with flowers, and honored with a monument. In the operations of Nature, there is no discrimination manifested, and without discrimination there can be no conformity to justice. True, we see many exhibitions of benevolence, but we see also many things which cannot be reconciled with it. The righteous and the wicked, the just and the unjust, the innocent and the guilty, the aged and the little child, alike share the bounties of Providence, and together fall by the pestilence, or sink beneath some sweeping destruction. These facts have troubled the minds of philosophers, and caused the short-sighted philanthropist to be faint of heart.
Reflecting on these things, some have (singularly enough) denied the existence of a supreme, intelligent Being. Such ascribe everything to Nature, whose laws are fixed, inexorable, and indiscriminating. Having arrived at this conclusion, they seem to consider themselves relieved of all further trouble in the matter, and (more wondrous still) proceed to lavish encomiums on blind Nature, and award to her as much praise as if she never tortured an innocent person, nor suffered the guilty to escape. As before remarked, we find no fault with Nature, but we must find fault with the unreasonable position of her devotees. The laws of Nature answer well their purposes, but this class of philosophers endeavor to make them answer a purpose for which they never were designed. We think a just system of reasoning will expose their fallacies.
First, I inquire, What is meant by the phrase, Laws of Nature? These words are very flippantly used in these days, and I have often thought that many who use them spend but little time in considering their import. There can be only two senses in which the expression may be used. 1. As meaning the laws which Nature has made for the regulation of her various parts or elements, or for the government of her operations. But against this I object, that Nature never made a law—she never knew enough to make a law. Did Nature deliberate? did she counsel? did she plan? did she have a knowledge of the future before her, and possess wisdom to judge what was suitable, and to devise the means adapted to the end? And if she made the laws, she must have existed before she made them; how were her operations then regulated? Is there a man living who will claim so much for Nature? Not one. And if not, all must yield at once that Nature never made a law, and admit that the expression is only properly used (2) As meaning the laws which a Supreme Being has made for the government of Nature: the Infinite One who made Nature, and subjected her to the operation of those laws. It is strange that men will reject belief in a Supreme Being as unreasonable and absurd, and then proceed to clothe the Nature with the wisdom and power, and all the attributes, which such a Being must necessarily possess!
Next, I notice further that the laws of Nature are imperfect and incomplete—not imperfect if considered only in regard to their real object; but altogether imperfect as regards the claims of those who hold them to be all in all. They present no standard of right, and are therefore no fit model by which to shape human conduct. As lovers of the most expansive benevolence, we may strive to imitate Nature when she spreads abroad her bounties, her precious fruits and golden grain. But again she withholds these, and famine is the dire result. Shall we imitate Nature in the desolations of the whirlwind, the earthquake, and the pestilence? Shall we indiscriminately spread ruin and destruction around us, involving alike the innocent and the guilty, the gray-headed and the prattling child? All answer, No. But each hand that is raised to check such a mad career practically acknowledges that Nature, which is so blindly worshiped by many, presents to us no example worthy of our imitation.
Why is it that the laws of Nature do not satisfy the aspirations of man? Why do we not accept them as our standard of action? It is because they are destitute of morality. We cannot trace one moral element in their frame-work or execution. He who studies them intelligently must be convinced that they are designed solely for a natural system; not for a moral system. Hence, they have no penalties, but only consequences; and these consequences are uniform, so that the operations of Nature present an unbroken series of causes and effects, the results being the same whether issuing upon a responsible or irresponsible object, regarding no distinctions of moral good or evil.
In the foregoing question I referred to a truth which I now affirm, namely, that man has aspirations rising above the operations of Nature; that he cannot accept the laws of Nature as a judicial system. In other words, there is implanted in man a sense of justice, or convictions of right, to which he finds no counterpart in Nature. These convictions are on a moral basis. This sense of justice is erected in the human mind as a tribunal, a judgment seat, whereat we determine the nature and desert of actions. And mark this truth: before this tribunal we always arraign the actions of intelligent agents, but never the operations of Nature. This is true of all men; and it shows that all, whatever their theories may be, do in fact and in practice make a proper distinction between moral and natural laws. This distinction may be further examined.
The prime distinction between moral and natural laws is this: the first has respect to intention—the other has not. Fire will burn, and water will drown, whether we fall into them accidentally or rush into them madly. The little child who is yet unconscious of any intention of good or ill, suffers as certainly and keenly on putting its hand into the fire, as the man of mature mind who presumptuously does the same thing. And should the man willfully and maliciously set fire to his neighbor's house, and the child, playfully,507and without intention of wrong, do the same thing, all would blame the one and not the other. And were a judge, in the administration of law, to visit the same penalty upon the man and the child, because the actions and the results were the same, all would detest such a perversion of justice. Thus we not only find men acting upon the difference between moral and natural laws, but we find them also with great unanimity judging of the actions of moral agents according to their intentions.
But the operations of natural law cannot thus be judged, and its consequences, often miscalled penalties, have no regard whatever to the claims of justice. As before said, the child is burned in the fire as certainly as the man; and if the man should hold the hand of the child in the fire, he would alone commit the wrong, while the child would suffer all the pain consequent upon that wrong. I think the most infatuated worshiper of Nature will find no justice in this. Therefore the declaration is justified, that confined in our reasoning to the present state and without a written revelation, justice cannot be attained unto nor vindicated. A Moral System is necessary, and its claims must be vindicated to meet the demands of justice.
We have but one more step to take in this process of reasoning. When the requirements of a moral and natural law conflict, as they often do in this mixed state of good and evil, men uniformly give the preference to the former. And often they are false to their theories to be true to this fact. We sometimes meet with men who deny these distinctions; who assert that there are no laws aside from the laws of Nature; yet they act in conformity with the propositions herein set forth. Should you refuse to rescue one from impending destruction by fire, and plead in extenuation that it would have involved the violation of law, and you might have been injured in the effort, they would, as readily as others, abhor your selfishness. Here they make the distinction claimed, and place the moral duty of doing good to your neighbor, above mere conformity to natural law.
—Atonement.
Scripture Answers.
The Young Reaper prints the following short catechism, which is valuable enough to be committed to memory by the children, and even by adults:—
What have all men done?
"All have sinned and come short of the glory of God."
What is sin?
"Sin is the transgression of the law."
Then are you, too, a sinner?
"If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."
What is the punishment for sin?
"The soul that sinneth, it shall die."
Is that a light thing?
"It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
Who fixed the punishment?
"The great God, who formed all things."
Is there any possibility of your being overlooked?
"We shall ALL stand before the judgment-seat of Christ."
Who alone can make a way to escape?
"I, even I, am the Lord; and besides me there is no Saviour."
Is there no other way?
"Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under Heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved."
What have we to do in order to be saved?
"Repent ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out."
What else?
"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved."
What then becomes of our sins?
"The blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth from all sin."
Of what does this salvation consist?
"Whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life."
Will Jesus save all who come to him?
"Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out."
Will he take even the worst sinner?
"The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which is lost."
When is the right time to come to be saved?
"Behold now is the accepted time; behold now is the day of salvation."
Suppose we neglect to attend to it?
"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?"
What does Jesus say of some of us?
"Ye will not come unto me that ye might have life."
Ministerial Heroism.
By Dr. J. E. Smith
HEROISM is not wholly a thing of the past. It is the heritage of the church in all time. It animates every Christian heart. It inspires every minister called of God to the sacred office, and imbued by him with the baptism of his Spirit. It will be remembered that decision with most men is made in the days of their youth, when the world's pleasures are most alluring, and when its wealth and honors seem to lie within easy grasp. Many who make it are most thoroughly prepared to contend successfully for the world's prizes; and finally these temptations come to them again and again through the interval of years, often in the hours of their greatest weakness and in the seasons of their greatest despondency.
To illustrate: I have known a man richly endowed by nature, and thoroughly cultured, who has turned away from the most tempting offers that place and wealth and power can make, and is preaching the gospel upon circuits far removed from the refinements for which he is fitted and to which he has been accustomed, and who, for his services, receives from $400 to $600 per year. I have known another compelled to leave a fond and affectionate people at the close of his second year with them, and after a glorious revival, he was sent to "Break Neck Hill," at a salary of $350, fifty of which it cost to reach the place. He was offered by another church in the town from which he was sent, a salary of $1,000 and a furnished house, to remain and become their pastor. But true to his trust, he declined the offer and went bravely on to toil and suffer in his lonely field. I could name another, who, gifted and cultured beyond most of his fellows, has preached four sermons in as many different languages in a single day; yet he is preaching in an obscure church at a salary of $600 per year. And yet another who has never received a salary of over $500, with a large and dependent family, hungering for knowledge he stints himself in every possible way, that he may buy the freshest and ablest books as they come from the press, and thus keep abreast of the age, while his noble wife, sympathizing with her husband in his desire for knowledge, gathers and hoards with the avidity of a miser, the three, the five, and the ten cent pieces, until, after years of effort with these alone, she purchases McClintock & Strong's costly cyclopedia for his use.
These are but a few of the many instances that might be given. They abound on every side. Their annals are for the most part carefully concealed from public scrutiny. They suffer in silence. Their tears, if there any, are shed in secret. They are the successors of the apostles and martyrs and confessors. They endure as seeing Him who is invisible. They are the world's greatest paradox. Though sorrowful, they are always rejoicing. Though poor, they make many rich. Having nothing, they possess all things. For such service earth has no rewards. Weighed against these, the world's jewels are baubles; its gold is dross. It has nothing wherewith to pay for such service and so comes all too near to paying nothing. Meanwhile, God watches their toil and Heaven waits their coming. Already they are blessed, for "theirs is the kingdom of Heaven."
—Dr. J. E. Smith.
Applicable in all Sections.
SAID a lady before election: “I wonder how many pleasant homes will be made unhappy by this election.” An explanation was asked, and she said: “Why, I have seen to-day two men that I knew well, drunk on the street, and I never saw either one of them under the influence of liquor before. I have heard the wife of one of them say she had rather see her husband dead, much as she loved him, than see him a drunkard. Both of these men are candidates, and knowing the sorrow of their homes to-night I was merely thinking and wondering how many other homes would be saddened in the next week, and had been saddened in the last few days by the drinking of candidates, and those who had been treated by them. The great trouble with your politics is that women can have nothing to say. When a man runs for office he must ‘treat.’ If he doesn't, then those who do will get the votes. He must drink not only with his equals, but much more with those whose company he would not think of keeping under any other circumstances. He would never think of bringing home the men he spends his time with. It's all wrong, and I tell you this running for office has ruined more men than you have any idea of.”—Columbus Enquirer.
Neither Brandy nor Morphine.
WHEN the converts on the day of Pentecost began to tell what God had done for them, certain cavilers present at the meeting sneered, and said it was "new wine" that ailed them. There are people enough now who will admit no better explanation of spiritual fervor and high religious sensibility. A southern surgeon, in the late war, was candid enough, however, though an infidel, to see something more than artificial exhilaration in a Christian's dying triumph.
One day, during the fighting around New Hope Church, three mortally wounded Mississippi soldiers were brought into the hospital together, who, by a strange coincidence belonged to the same church at home, and the same regiment in the field. What the surgeon could do for them was soon done, and they were left to the attention of the chaplain.
He went from one to the other, and found them all rejoicing in the sustaining love of Christ. Their happy frame of mind and dying utterances were so striking that he called the surgeon back to look and listen.
"How do you account for that, doctor?" he asked, as they stood near the cot of one of the men.
"Oh, that's the effect of the dose of spirits I gave him," replied the doctor.
They went to the second soldier, who lay with a smile on his face, whispering the sweet promises of God.
"What is that?" asked the chaplain.
"That's morphine. I gave him some an hour ago."
Then the chaplain took him to the third. This soldier had been a man of marked piety, and his joy as he met death was nothing less than a devout ecstasy. There was a fortaste of Heaven on his face, and his last words were hymns of victory.
This time the unbelieving surgeon had no reason of his own to give; he gazed long at the helpless but happy patient, and shook his head.
"Well chaplain," said he, "I must say this time that I don't understand it. That man puzzles me. I couldn't make him take morphine or spirits. He said he wanted to die in his right mind. I tell you chaplain," he continued with tears in his eyes, "I have no faith in your religion, but when my time comes, I'd give all I'm worth to be able to die like that."
That was about what Balaam said more than thirty-three hundred years ago. It is the involuntary prayer of all who despise the gospel, but covet its last blessing.
ONLY ONE.
A deacon was speaking to a visitor about his pastor's want of success. No doubt he had often reminded his pastor of the same with much condolence. "Well," said the visitor, "what is the proof?" "Proof? Why last year only one person joined the church!" "Sir, who was that one?" "I don't know." "You must know what was his name?" He looks into the church book, and finds that the name of the man who was the only one added to the church is "Robert Moffat." Then said the other, "Sir, when you added that man to your church you added generation upon generation; and yet you have been making your pastor's life bitter by the dismal toll of that statistical complaint, 'only one.' Do you know what they once rang the bells of Heaven for? It was over the conversion of one sinner—only one; and it was there reckoned to be such a great success that it made 'joy in the presence of the angels.'"
Nourishing Affection for Evil
THE first step to misery is to nourish in ourselves an affection for evil things, and the height of misfortune is to be able to indulge such affections.