Review and Herald, Vol. 27, No. 5. (1/2/1866)

Review and Herald

Jan 2, 1866

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 2, 1866

Selfishness.

By E. Goodrich

A DISCOURSE BY E. GOODRICH.

DEAR FRIENDS: The subject to which your attention is called this morning, is selfishness—the selfishness of the age. This is rather an unpleasant topic upon which to speak; but it often becomes necessary in our fallen and afflicted state, both to speak of unpleasant things and to urge painful duties. And if at any time my language shall seem rather pointed or severe, each one will please to make his or her own appropriation of that, and that only, which belongs to him or her.

The text chosen for the occasion reads, "This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, &c." 2 Tim. iii, 1, 2. I shall occupy no time in trying to demonstrate the fact that we are living in the last days, because I deem the effort unnecessary. And even if it was necessary, the length of time before me with the subject named for discussion, would not permit it. You will therefore be at liberty to decide this point as you shall deem proper. It is enough to remark that the apostle prophetically speaks of perilous times to the church (the term perilous signifies full of dangers), and the entire reason that he assigns for this state of things—the existence of these dangers—is the selfishness of these times. Hence we may safely reason that if at any time in the history of the church the cause (selfishness) exists in a corresponding proportion, those dangers referred to by the apostle will exist also.

We may therefore dismiss all other questions, however interesting in themselves, and investigate the subject before us in the following manner:

1. What is selfishness? 2. Its manifestations; and 3. The influence that it exerts upon the church, or, its moral dangers.

But before attempting to define selfishness, or describe any of its hateful manifestations or influences, I have a remark to make. Every unknown truth and quantity and controverted question is determined by some known and acknowledged rule, and as we never use a doubtful one to settle a disputed claim, our first business will be to obtain some standard measure by which to try this quality. And as every well-defined action is either from one point to another, or around some given point, and as religion, as well as every thing else, must have its points and lines and common centre, the first question deserving notice is, What is the first point? The man who wishes to survey a piece of land, commences by clearly defining the place of beginning, thence the course, and thence the distance. This is the way men survey and define their farms and possessions. And one very considerable reason why we do not understand theology better, is because we do not survey theology. We investigate too much without either points or lines; and the result is, we neither satisfy ourselves nor others.

The first point in the moral and religious world is God, the great first cause and the universal center of all things, from whom (or from which point) all relations are reckoned, and all rights and duties are properly determined. A religion that has no God, has no center and is no system. "Sin is the transgression of the law." And how can we revere the name or acknowledge the authority of one whose very existence we doubt or deny? But this point, the existence, the supreme power and authority of God, being admitted, it becomes a rule by which every religious view is regulated and established, and every right or wrong action is made to appear in its own proper color. And admitting that God is, and that it is his right to command and give or withhold, and our duty to submit and obey, it follows that what God has given, is man's right to possess and enjoy, and whatever God has forbidden, man has no right to claim as his own, or to use in opposition to any law or order established by God.

We may state, therefore, in turning our attention to the first division of our subject, that selfishness is rebellion, or opposition, against God and his government. Any effort of the creature to exalt self at the expense, or even neglect of divine order, is an act of selfishness upon the part of the creature. And this is true, whether the action is directed against God, his name, word or authority, or against any right granted to a creature.

As marked instances illustrative of the truth of the foregoing, we may refer, first, to our parents in Eden, who in attempting to exalt themselves by eating of the forbidden fruit, brought misery and death upon themselves and their race; and secondly, to Cain, who possessed of the wicked one, and cherishing feelings of rebellion against God, sought to promote his own happiness by removing from his sight and from the earth his righteous and God-fearing brother.

Both these are solemn warnings against attempting to substitute our ways for God's ways. Such is the law of God, that it does not admit (in any conceivable instance) of substitution. This truth is expressed by the Saviour: "But in vain they do worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men." Matt. xv, 9. And again, "But he answered and said, Every plant which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up." Matt. xv, 13.

To return and continue our remarks upon selfishness, it is a monster, the father of all iniquities and crimes, the mother of all abominations, and the sum of all villanies; and there is nothing pure or sacred in its sight but the one thing.

Again selfishness is insatiable. Every thing brought within its rapacious grasp is devoured without mercy and without satisfaction. No selfish man ever can be satisfied; for it is not in the nature of things that he should be happy. Here is an argument for Christianity which the infidel may answer if he can.

Again selfishness is intolerable. Neither God, holy angels, righteous men, nor even wicked men can tolerate selfishness, at least in others. And not only is selfishness all these, corrupting and corroding every thing it touches, but it perverts every view which we may wish to gain either of ourselves or others. It misguides our feelings, blinds our minds, and burns out all the moral sensibilities of our natures. This, then is the picture and history of selfishness. And herein lies the deception of the human heart.

This brings us to the second division of the subject, viz., The manifestations of selfishness. And it is proper to notice in the outset, that as a man may be selfish in more ways than one, he may also be selfish for more individuals than one. He may be selfish for his own person, or for his own family or kindred, or he may be selfish for the party or parties with which he has identified himself and interests. And any man who makes a rule for others to walk by, which he will not follow himself, or any one who grants indulgences to himself or party, which he will not tolerate in others, is manifestly a selfish person.

And a man may be selfish in all his thoughts and actions. He may be selfish in his loves, selfish in his fears, selfish in his regard for virtue and honesty, selfish in his acts of benevolence, yea he may be selfish in all his devotions—in matters of religion as well as in buying a new coat or a choice farm. It was to this class that much that our Saviour taught—many wise sayings and many plain and merciful reproofs were addressed. Indeed the entire system of Christianity has for its main object, the rooting out of this hateful malady from the human mind. And so deep and deadly is this poison in man, that nothing less than a change of heart, a new birth, a new creation effected by the cleansing and renovating powers of the Holy Ghost, will ever enable us to see, or enter into, the kingdom of God.

And the beauty and sublimity of the life and teachings of Christ, consist not only in the absence of all selfishness, but in the positive existence and manifestation of perfect love. And every precept and example of our Lord, is but a confirmation of this truth. And a person as he reads and contemplates those glowing truths, can but exclaim, O wondrous Saviour!

O blessed and divine Lord and Master! how my unworthy and sin-stained soul longs to confess thee and to drink at thine inexhaustible fountain of purity and love.

But I must hasten or I shall weary you. Yet it seems hardly possible that the mind can tire in its admiration of those treasures of wisdom and knowledge found in the word of God.

I wish however, before dismissing this part of the subject, to notice a catalogue of specifications or characteristics of the selfish man as given by the apostle Paul in the same chapter and immediately following the text I have chosen. You are all undoubtedly familiar with his language, but I wish to read it: "Covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, truce-breakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God; having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof; from such turn away." 2 Tim. iii, 2-5.

If we should analyze the above particulars in all their parts and properties, either separately or collectively, we should find from the beginning to the end throughout, nothing but the one thing—self, self, self. And whether the apostle in giving us those particular traits of character in the selfish man, wrote under the direct influence of inspiration, or whether he spoke as a reasoner drawing conclusions from certain existing causes, seems not to matter. It is enough to know that wherever selfishness exists, all those results (according to the occasion that calls them forth) will follow. The apostle did not, he could not, neither was there need that he should, delineate all the workings and forms of selfishness. It is enough that he should show how dark and hateful a thing it is.

There is one feature however in the character of the selfish man that deserves notice. It is the fact that however plain and marked his own case may be, he is always ready to render swift and unmerciful judgment against all his unrighteous neighbors. He cannot even look at his own picture reflected in the person of others. The covetous person condemns the proud, and the proud lady abhors the false accuser. The traitor is ready to lay down his life to defend insulted honor. The selfish parent bewails a want of reverence in children; and selfish children complain of a lack of love in parents; while the cold-hearted professor who has substituted the outward form and ceremonies of religion for the life and power of godliness, seems anxious to call down the judgments of Heaven upon all the workers of iniquity.

But it matters not under what guise it exists, or in what manner it is brought to light, it is the same loathsome thing. And whether the selfish man lives in rags or riches, is despised or honored, whether he dies upon the battle field amid the clangor of arms and the groans of the dying, clothed in honor and in blood, or dies upon his own soft couch near his own fireside and surrounded by sympathizing friends, it is all the same; for the way to Heaven is always closed against him.

But enough. The influence that selfishness exerts upon the church, deserves notice. The perils spoken of by the apostle consist in the danger that the Christian will become selfish. It is hardly necessary to state that every person has his influence. Even the child that is unable to lisp its mother's name has a great influence. And as like begets like, each tree producing its kind, and every cause its kindred result, as a matter of course the influence of a selfish man is to make others selfish. And this is true whether the man exercising an influence designs it to be so or otherwise. Sometimes it is for the interest of the selfish man that his neighbor should be as low and vile as himself, while at others he would most gladly have others better than himself. The unprincipled villain whether seducer, covetous person, or tricky tradesman, would always choose to deal with honest people. And sometimes parents with shiftless ungodly and intemperate habits, would be pleased to see their children better than themselves; but this is not their influence. Of this class there are many who go out into the world as reformers, without first correcting their own unrighteous purposes and habits. The consequence is that, notwithstanding the soundness of their theories and the fact that they are successful in making converts, as example is more forcible than precept, those thus reformed imitating and being no better than their teacher, are indeed more the children of perdition than before. This may be regarded as one considerable reason why the world has not been more thoroughly and extensively reformed. It may however be but one act of justice to acknowledge that a man may have good motives, and yet on the account of ignorance, misguided zeal, or circumstances over which he has no control, be the cause of a bad influence.

There are two ways in which selfish persons, whether parents, teachers or associates, exert an influence and produce their own likeness in others. The one is by adopting a course of conduct either of neglect or ill-treatment that plainly says, I do not care for you only as my own interests are the better secured. Those thus influenced are very naturally taught to rely upon themselves both for sympathy and support; and as others do not love them, they need not and will not love others.

The other way is that of praising or flattering so as to make those that are thus treated, believe that they are superior to all others. This gives a strong selfish basis of thought and action. Those who receive these impressions, while they are tenacious of their own rights, do not see that others have any which they are bound to respect. Parents, perhaps more than any other class of persons, from the cares and perplexities which they have on the one hand, and the extreme fondness they feel for their children on the other, are in constant danger of falling into one or the other of the above extremes. And to add a word, if children are dealt with harshly and treated with distrust, and undeserved censure, they will both despise our authority over them, and feel that although they should try ever so hard to be truthful and good, they could never succeed. This kind of influence deadens all the finer and moral sensibilities of their natures. And if children are praised and indulged unduly, that which is justly due to themselves and others is lost sight of, in the admiration of self.

The foregoing, contains nearly all of the principles upon which selfishness acts in producing its own image in others, yet as there are various classes of persons, and different ways of applying the same rule, it may be proper to notice a few additional examples showing how the good are brought under the power of evil. The work is generally a gradual one occupying much time and accomplished under trying and deceptive circumstances. There is no one that readily and at once yields up all the noble and God-like impulses and sentiments of his soul. He is at first tempted by fashion and false allurements, and deceived concerning the present or final result of the action to be engaged in. In this way he is led on step by step, until, according to a law of our natures, habit deadens or sweetens the disgust that we may feel as we first enter the paths of sin. The drunkard, who begins by drinking a social glass with jovial companions and ends with deliriums or in the gutter, although warned of his danger, did not, and could not realize how deceitful and enslaving a thing sin is. He only thought to take a few steps which he might retrace at pleasure.

The covetous man begins his course by being saving, by laying up against a time of need, but forgetting the lessons of our Saviour, "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, but seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness." As time rolls on, and he adds dollar to dollar and acre to acre, his soul becomes lost to every thing else but the worship of unrighteous mammon. And as he lies upon his death couch thinking of eternity and holding the almighty dollar in his hand, he breaks out in his last wailings of despair in the words, "Oh 'twas for thee that I sold my God and Heaven."

Examples of this kind might be taken from every class, the boasting, the proud, the blasphemers, and so on, showing how dangerous the ways of sin are. But it is needless. The principle is the same in all cases, and thus it is with every one whose feet are turned from the paths of righteousness and truth.

The principle upon which one person influences another, is found in the fact that man is a social and sympathetic being, made to enjoy his surroundings. He is therefore affected by the sight of the eye, the hearing of the ear, and by all those sensations of pain or pleasure addressed to his senses. Laughing excites laughter; weeping begets weeping; and the man who deliberately betrays and murders the innocent and defenseless, provokes the just indignation of all men. How could we wish that these things should be otherwise? but blessings perverted always bring curses. The principle by which the mind hardens in sin is a law that is written in all nature. It is the law of growth and is unalterable. It is manifested in the creation of our bodies, in the growth of plants, and trees; and it may be witnessed in the life of the soldier who is at first timorous, but who becomes so accustomed to scenes of horror and blood, that he can even sleep upon the battle field, but little removed from all the noise and confusions of deadly strife.

The true and only remedy for all this, is the earnest and undivided worship of God—is to love God with all our souls, might, mind and strength and our neighbor as ourselves.

But the subject is endless and I must forbear. Enough I trust has been said to show that we are in constant danger of becoming selfish and losing the love of God from our hearts. And commending you to "the grace of God that bringeth salvation, and which hath appeared unto all men, teaching us that denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world, looking for the blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ," and thanking you for your kind attention, I take my leave of you. Amen. E. GOODRICH.

Edinboro, Pa.

Sabbath Hymn.

By Vesta N. Cudworth

AIR.—"Forever with the Lord"

Six days of toil and care, I bid you all adieu; And now O peaceful Sabbath hours, I gladly welcome you. As some frail bark at sea, By storms and tempests tried, Glides in beneath the sheltering lee. Safe on the tranquil tide.

The first Sabbatic day Our Lord himself did rest, And thus his great example gave, Then sanctified and blessed. My heart with rapture turns To Eden's vale so fair, Then forward to the heavenly world And views the Sabbath there.

Sweet day of rest, through thee Shall memory faithful prove To Him who made the earth and sea, And starry worlds above. Each Sabbath spent aright Shall bring us nearer Thee Till in that glorious land of light We'er made forever free.

VESTA N. CUDWORTH.

The Dead Sea.

THE facts ascertained by Capt. Wilson's Palestine surveying party in regard to the tremendous depression of the Dead Sea, are the topic of a remarkable article in the London Daily Telegraph.

All sorts of statements have been made from time to time about the true rule level of these dreary waters. Some geographers pronounced them to be above the Mediterranean, some on the same altitude, some 710 feet lower, some as many higher; though the best authorities agree in considering the basin of the Asphaltic Lake to be the lowest known depression of the earth, and set it down as about 1,312 feet beneath the surface of the larger sea. Capt. Wilson's party has performed the leveling between the two seas with different instruments, by independent observers, and with such nicety that the result can be relied on to within three or four inches. Meanwhile, bench marks have been cut upon rocks and buildings along the line followed; and traverse surveys have been made, so that the work done may become the basis of more extended geodesical examinations of the interesting country toward which Christendom is turning with new and serious interest. The issue of these careful observations is to show that the Dead Sea, lay on the 12th of March, 1865, 1,292 feet below the Mediterranean level; which singularly confirms the calculation by barometer of the Duc de Luynes and Lieut. Vignes, who set it at 1,286 feet on the 7th of June, 1864. At the season of the winter freshets, the waters of the strange, secluded lake stands two or three feet higher, and in the fiercest heats of summer they are again lowered six feet by evaporation. Thus the greatest depression of the Dead Sea is now fixed at 1,298 feet; and as we know that Lieut. Lynch found a depth of 1,308 feet opposite the Wady Zerka Mais, we are now sure that the bottom lies some 2,600 feet below the coast of Jaffa. This is a depression of surface beyond comparison with anything of the kind; and, undoubtedly, it is due to some tremendous natural convulsion, the memory of which is preserved in the legend of the buried cities, and in the dreadful and accursed aspect of the sea itself.

The "Dead" Sea, indeed, it is! though from the walls of Jerusalem, or the green summit of Olives,

travelers will say that it looks fair and living enough. Lying under the red hills of Moab, the summit outline of which Chateaubriand well described as "a straight line traced by a trembling hand," this vast mass of poisonous and useless water seems to redeem the landscape. Just perceived between the Hill of Evil Counsel and the fig-trees and cottages of Bethany, it shines in a long, white gleaming patch beyond the hills above Jericho; so that man, or beast, or bird, traversing the stony desert between, would think there must be rest and coolness by its shores, and the blessing of sweet waters. Every now and then, on the long sun-scorched road that "goeth down from Jerusalem to Jericho," you get a peep of the same calm and brilliant surface; and you understand how the scape-goat which our great painter depicted, would hurry along the dry torrent-beds, and over the yellow, naked hills to get to the edge of the tempting tide. Bare as the great red hills are beyond, sun-baked as the plain is over which you look when the Mountain of Temptation is reached, and Jericho lies under you, it needs an effort to believe that that vast sheet of rippling water stretching out of sight toward El-Arabah, and fed by the Jordan—which comes into it hidden in thickets of oleanders and canes—it needs a positive effort of knowledge to remember that every drop of the great lake is filth and nausea. It looks so blue, so cool and alluring, in spite—or rather in consequence—of the pitiless desert of salt-marsh, sand, and dry limestone crags framing it; it seems so like the natural reservoir of the sweet Jordan, which fills the skins and water-jars of all Palestine, that the mind at first refuses to believe any evil of it; yet we have all learned, that, throughout recorded time, men, and beasts, and birds, may perish, and have perished, of thirst, in sight of that inland lake; and that even the camels, parched with a three-day's journey in "the Ghor," know better than to turn their heads toward those accursed waves. One thing prepares you for the shores of the Sea of Death; the Jordan comes into it in a long, light line, which, for nearly two miles, refuses to mix with the poisonous water; and if the traveler is led by the Arab guide past the Ain-est Sultan and the Jordan's mouth to the lake, he will see in the last eddies of the river, the oaks and locust-trees that it has brought down, whirling round and round, and round again, as if they, too, shuddered at the fate of being soaked in the bitter tide, and cast on its silent shore, whitened and crusted with salt.

No shore so silent in the world as that, because life has no place there! A vulture, fat with rotting camel-flesh, may rise, perhaps, as the wayfarer approaches the brink. The foul bird can drink at Tiberias—a hundred miles off—when his beastly banquet is digested and his wings are plumed. Or there may be an Arab afoot from Engaddi or El-Riha, or perhaps a jackal or two, new to the country, or else sniffing sick camels in the marsh. But for these, the land would be dead as well as the sea—birds haunt it; nothing grows near it; the mountains, and then the salt marsh, and then the sand, and then the black pebbles, and then the blue poisonous water, fringed all along with white and brittle skeleton tree-trunks, brought down from green Galilee, and bleached in the sun after a Dead Sea hurricane has tossed them up steeped in the filthy brine—such is the scene! such the elements of which it is composed. It is de rigueur to bathe in the Bahr el Lut, and the traveler strips with delight at the idea of getting out of the fierce heat into the waves that sleep at his horse's feet—for the Dead Sea is generally still as death. And the first sensation of the cold buoyant wave is pleasant. The adventurer is held up breast-high, if he knows how to swim well, and his hands cleave a medium which is palpably denser than the saltest ocean in which he ever dived. But let him try experiments with the buoyancy of the lake, and take just one gulp of the nauseous compound! Colocynth, lamp-oil, and Epsom-salts combined, might give a poor idea of the flavor of the first and last sup of the Dead Sea. The odds are, that he will turn shoreward and swim as if for his life—horrified as he looks along the level of the ripples toward Edom and Egypt, at the awful mass of lying venomous liquid which simmers in that vast hollow, and calls itself "water," by its bright ripple and its cool touch. He will almost believe the lean and hungry Arabs who tell him that "Allah sends the damned to drink there when he is compassionate to them."

And afterward, at a distance from the lake, coming into the thickets of "Asclepias"—the Sodom apple—where, on the greenest imaginable branches, hang the most beautiful golden globes of fruit that can be seen, the branches being deadly poison to the goats, and the fruit full of vile pith and acrid seeds, he will think they are right when the native wanderers say, "The curse of Lot's Lake curses all." They do not hold, these lean, hungry, silent Arabs, that anybody can ever understand the curse; they point to spots in the sea, where, at low water, they assert columns of old cities may be discerned, and pavements, and the monuments of vanished life; they laugh at volcanic theories, and professors, and Royal Engineers; they only cry, as they hurry for a drink to Jordan, that "Allah is great!" And truly a spot so strange and awful may make the wisest repeat, "Allah is great."

Ornaments.

THERE has been no time during the existence of this generation, when so many and so costly ornaments were worn as at the present time. In this respect, one might think the people were returning back to the habits of the heathen nations; and that the tastes of children were gratified, instead of the noble manhood and womanhood that should characterize civilized and Christian nations. The disposition to make a show in the world seems to have become almost universal; as well among the majority of church members, as those who make no profession of religion. This is a sure sign that the church is becoming conformed to the world, and floating away from the true standard of Christianity. But few have courage to come out from the world, and be separate. They do more than Lot's wife,—look back; they go back to the world, and then claim the world has advanced to a higher position. The returning current is so strong, that but few young people who profess religion, have courage to stand against such an overwhelming influence, and dare to be singular, if they lose every earthly friend.

We find here and there a few who see and feel the importance of doing all to the glory of the Lord; who live as though they believed their actions were known to their Creator, and that Christianity requires more from those who profess it than most believe. There are some who think, when the Scripture says "that women" should "adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array," that this requirement should be observed as carefully as any other, if they would please the Lord, and hear him say at last, "Well done." Would that more felt the force of this Scripture, and other kindred passages. We have come to an age when men and women trample under their feet the laws of God and man which they do not like, provided it is only fashionable to do so. Fashion rules the conduct of a large portion of society not only of the world, but the church. Instead of being "separate," as commanded, she follows after the fashions, with Satan for a leader, in the person of some of the lewd women of Paris.

'Tis true there are some noble exceptions in all evangelical denominations, who shine like diamonds among the dirt. We have recently met several young ladies in different places, who have sacrificed their jewelry, and adorned themselves in "modest apparel," and with "a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price." If others only know how much better they would feel in their minds, we think they would be willing to make the sacrifice. They would not only feel better, but certainly look better. Beauty needs no ornaments; and deformity only attracts more attention when ornamented, because there is no similarity or fitness between the two. Pure gold needs no galvanizing to make it valuable, or to cause it to shine; so pure religion needs no ornaments to make it lovely and beautiful. Ornaments on a Christian are unbecoming, as rum blossoms on the nose, or as grease spots on fine linen. We hope those who profess to believe in the coming of Christ will lay them aside forever. Make the sacrifice at once, and give the results to the poor, and you will feel richer.

World's Crisis.

Retrospect.

By A. H. C.

ANOTHER year has gone; a crystal globe Dropped perfect from the hand of God, and crushed In the rude grasp of earthly life; and now Amid its ruins, care and sin sit hushed.

Another year has gone; one milestone more I've left behind, and one the less to meet In the uncertain dimness on before, Ere the last leaves me at my Maker's feet.

Leaning a moment on my pilgrim staff, Amid the gathering darkness I look back Through the far distance of these faded years, And mark the lights and shadows of their track.

Here, sown with thorns, and gaping with fresh graves; There, sharp with flint, and salt with bitter tears; O God, I cannot bear to face again The lone fierce agonies of by-gone years.

My Saviour's gentle voice dispels the gloom; His loving glance, his arms outstretched I see; I place my hand in thine, O mighty One, Through life or death, content to follow thee.

Humbly I tread where'er his footsteps lead; Dark falls the night, but Christ is ever near; And trusting in his tried and faithful love, I give my soul to him another year. —A. H. C. in American Messenger.

A Female Leading A Meeting.

Many good Christians have scruples about the propriety of females taking part in the social services of the church. The mother of the Wesleys, though a genuine church-woman, and a firm lover of good order, ventured to trespass on the regulations of the church of England, and to offend her husband, who was shocked at her violation of church proprieties. Mr. Stevens gives the following account of her proceedings.

"During the absence of her husband, she opened her doors for a sort of public worship, which was conducted by herself. She read sermons, prayed and conversed directly with the rustic assembly. Her husband, learning the fact by her letters, revolted, as a churchman, at its novelty. Her self-defence is characteristically earnest, but submissive to his authority. 'I chose,' she says, 'the best and most awakening sermons we had. Last Sunday, I believe we had about two hundred hearers, and yet many went away for want of room. We banish all temporal concerns from our society; none is suffered to mingle any discourse about them with our reading or singing. We keep close to the business of the day, and as soon as it is all over, they all go home.

"And where is the harm of all this? As for your proposals of letting some person read, alas! you do not consider what a people these are. I do not think one man among them could read a sermon without spelling a good part of it, and how would that edify the rest? Nor has any of our family a voice strong enough to be heard by such a number of people."

Her husband equally hesitated to approve or disapprove the extraordinary proceeding. Very soon she assembled around her a larger audience than had usually met at the church itself. Some of the leading parishioners and Wesley's curate wrote to him against the assembly as a 'conventicle.' Her reply is full of good sense and womanly feeling. She states that the measure was reclaiming many of the common people from immorality; that it was filling up the parish church; that some who had not attended the latter for years were now seen there. She prays him to relieve her from the responsibility of ending these useful services by assuming it himself, as her husband and pastor."

The Christian Comforter.

It is a blessed thing to cheer one sorrowing heart, to soothe one pain, to dry one tear; but thrice-blessed is he whose lot it is to comfort and be "a succorer of many." Who would not rather, like Mary, have laved the weary feet of Jesus than have offered wine from a golden chalice to the proud Herod on his throne? Who would not rather have sheltered his homeless head in that lowly cot of Bethany than have entertained an earthly prince? Who would not crave the place of those meek women who pressed with tearful eyes and throbbing hearts around the cross, in preference to them who nailed him there? Next to placing the cup of cold water to his parching lips, is the honor of giving it to those of his children, who, like him, are bearing the burdens of others.

Tears and Laughter

TEARS AND LAUGHTER. — God made both tears and laughter, and both for kind purposes; for as laughter enables mirth and surprise to breathe freely, so tears enable sorrow to vent itself patiently. Tears hinder sorrow from becoming despair and madness; and laughter is one of the very privileges of reason, being confined to the human species.

Prayer Opens Heaven

THE best and sweetest flowers of Paradise God gives to his people when they are upon their knees. Prayer is the gate of Heaven, a key to let us into Paradise.

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