Your ShelfYour Projects

Review and Herald, Vol. 39, No. 12.

SABBATH MEMORIAL

Review and Herald

Mar 5, 1872

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Mar 5, 1872

SABBATH MEMORIAL.

By M. E. Cornell

BY ELD. M. E. CORNELL.
The object of a memorial is to keep some person, place, thing, or event, in remembrance. A memorial, therefore, must have striking points of resemblance to the thing commemorated, so as to bring that thing forcibly to mind. A proposition so self-evident as this, needs only to be stated to gain the assent of every candid, reflecting mind. But, for the sake of any who may be doubtful, we may refer to Scripture illustrations and explanations, which will forever set the matter at rest with every Bible believer. The following may be sufficient:—
1. THE PASSOVER: “And this day shall be unto you for a memorial; and ye shall keep it a feast to the Lord throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance forever.” “And it shall come to pass, when your children shall say unto you, What mean ye by this service? that ye shall say, It is the sacrifice of the Lord’s passover, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt, when he smote the Egyptians, and delivered our houses.” Ex. 12: 14, 26, 27.
2. BAPTISM: “Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death; that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection.” Rom. 6: 4, 5.
3. LORD’S SUPPER: “For I have received of the Lord that which also I delivered unto you, That the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread; and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said, Take, eat; this is my body, which is broken for you; this do in remembrance of me. After the same manner also he took the cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood; this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in remembrance of me. For as often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till he come.” 1 Cor. 11: 23–26.
4. THE SABBATH: Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work; but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God; in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates; for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day; wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day, and hallowed it. Ex. 20: 8–11. “Moreover also I gave them my Sabbaths, to be a sign between me and them, that they might know that I am the Lord.” Eze. 20: 12, 20. See also Ex. 31: 13, 17.
Now upon a careful comparison of these memorials, who will affirm that the passover, baptism, and the Lord’s supper, are memorials any more than the Sabbath? Each is explained in the very text itself to be a commemorative institution. Indeed, so very certain is this, in regard to the Sabbath, that it has been admitted by the majority of theologians, both Jewish and Christian.
So Kiddush, Chamber’s Cyclopedia: “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who hath sanctified us by his laws, and bath, in his love and in his mercy, given us the Sabbath as a REMEMBRANCE of his CREATION.”
The “Encyclopedia Brittanica,” Art. Sabbath, says: “They were commanded to set it apart for sacred purposes in honor of creation.”
Groves, on Genesis, p. 32, says: “When God ended the six days’ work, he rested and was refreshed; for his creation was prepared to yield to him the glory which is his due. And for this reason, he sanctified the seventh day to his service, that men should by it be reminded of the greatest end for which they were created, and on that day appropriately render to their Maker adoration.”
Dr. Priestly, in his Notes on Gen., chap. 2, says: “It pleased the Divine Being to appoint that the seventh day should be considered as sacred to him, probably with a view to call mankind to reflect on his power and providence in the creation, and to attend to the relation in which they stand to him as creator, and sovereign disposer of all things.”
Murphy, on Gen. 2, says: “A thankful commemoration of that auspicious event in which the Almighty gave a noble origin and a happy existence to the human race. It is this which, even apart from its divine institution, at once raises the Sabbath above all human, commemorative festivals.”
Dr. Justin Edwards says: “It commemorates the work of God as creator, preserver, benefactor, and redeemer. It is the day which the Lord has made for this purpose, and which he blesses to this end.”
Rev. Thomas B. Brown says: “The Sabbath is a monument which has been set up as a memorial of creation.”
Thoughts on the Sabbath, p. 54, John Wilton says: “With regard to the Sabbath, it is clear that God hallowed it to himself, and dedicated it to rest, in remembrance of the consummation of his work. Gen. 2: 2, 3.” Book 1, chap. 10.
Now if it be admitted that the day of God’s rest was set apart and appointed to be observed as a memorial of the complete creation, how could the Sabbath be changed? How could the Creator’s rest be celebrated on a day upon which he was engaged in his work? Then we must conclude that the “first day of the week” is not a memorial of anything.
1. It is not a memorial of creation; for God did not rest on that day. God’s rest on the seventh day signified his work completed. But on the first day it was only begun.
2. It is not a memorial of redemption; for Christ did not redeem the world by rising from the dead on the first day of the week, neither did he rest on that day from the work of redemption; for the work of redemption is not yet complete.
Again, there is no text to show that we have redemption through the resurrection of Christ.
There are many steps in the work of redemption, such as the following:
The Ministry of Christ.
The Crucifixion of Christ.
The Resurrection of Christ.
The Ascension of Christ.
The Intercession of Christ.
The Second Advent of Christ.
The Resurrection of the Dead.
The Destruction of the Ungodly.
The New Creation, &c.
How could the first day be set up as a memorial of a work that was not half done? No instance can be shown of such a procedure. To do such a thing would be as if God, at the close of the third day of his work of creating, had stopped, and appointed that third day as a day of rest to commemorate the great work of creation!
But if the first day is a memorial, where is the record of its appointment? Where, when, how, and by whom, was it appointed?
For every divinely-appointed memorial set up for God’s people in the past, we have a definite and inspired record. Will God so change as to leave his people to infer or QUESTION their religious duty?
We must conclude, hence, that Sunday is an imaginary memorial. It has not only no divine appointment, but it has no reason. It is a “plant which my Heavenly Father hath not planted,” “a well without water,” “a cloud without rain,” “a broken cistern.” It is an institution without foundation in Scripture, or reason. It is as destitute of a bottom as a certain “pit” we read of in the Apocalypse. If any are anxious to find a text to establish Sunday-keeping, they will find it in the very same chapter, and next verse after the one that says we must observe “Good Friday;” and that will be some chapter in the “Acts of the Man of Sin,” for, surely it cannot be found in the “Acts of the Apostles.” It did not come from Jerusalem, nor Antioch, but from Rome, the city where the principal merchandise is that of “fables,” “heresies,” “traditions of men,” &c. Old Dr. Antichrist lives there, and has waxed rich by selling his wine to the nations.
The truth has come, and with gladness we hail the light which makes manifest all this darkness, and shows us where to find the “old paths.”
“Then as we would our God obey, In letter and in spirit too, Oh! let us keep the seventh day, For it is plainly brought to view.”

The Moving Fever.

By George I. Butler

It may be thought strange that I should give this article such a title as the above, but it describes a condition of things that has come under my observation as well as any I can think of, so I use it, and I wish to give a few reflections upon the subject as it is forced vividly upon us in this State. It is a fact that quite a number of our oldest churches have been much thinned out in numbers, while the very existence of some is threatened by the moving away of members. If this is the order of the Lord, of course it is all right, and should be encouraged; but if otherwise, it should be discouraged; at any rate, it demands consideration at our hands. As the result is a serious one, the motives and principles which lead to it should be seriously contemplated.
If by moving we can do more for the cause of God, or be the means of saving more souls, or of introducing the truth to new communities which would not otherwise receive it, it would be a justifiable step, unless our leaving our former home would do a greater damage in some other direction. And if our circumstances in life were such that we were dependent upon others and could not support ourselves comfortably where we were, and there was a reasonable prospect of placing ourselves in a condition of independence where we could benefit others and the cause of God, in this case, moving might be justifiable.
But it is very evident to me that many of the moves that are made are prompted by no such motive as the former, and there is, in many cases, no reasonable prospect of bettering one's condition even in worldly things. I have often thought that could we find men of devotion, energy, and ability, who would move into new communities where the present truth had never been heard of, and then, while carrying on their business, would strictly carry out the principles of the truth in their daily lives, and, as the way opened, would busily circulate tracts and papers, such moving would be most acceptable to God. In this way they could prepare the way for the living preacher, and no doubt churches would spring up rapidly in this manner. It has seemed to me that we should see such moving before the end comes, with the love of souls the real motive that prompted to it. And I have no doubt that some who have moved have thought of this.
But if this is the case, the course that many pursue seems a very strange way of carrying it out. The most that sell, strike out at once for the borders of civilization, where the land is cheap, and where it will take years to get even as comfortably situated as they were before they sold. It is pretty evident in such cases that speculation is the main object, and not the advancement of the truth. It is very easy to be deceived even in our motives.
A community just settling up a new country is not a favorable one in which to propagate the truth. There is generally such a spirit of speculation, and such hopes are entertained of making sudden fortunes by the rise of land and improvements, that this world, and not the future one, engrosses the attention of nearly all. And Sabbath-keepers generally find themselves unable to resist this tendency, even when they desire; and I am sorry to say that many of them find this spirit the most congenial to their feelings of any they can cherish, and so enter into it with perfect recklessness.
Again, in such communities, the people have not had time or ability to erect houses suitable for religious meetings, and they are generally so much scattered that it is hard to get a large attendance of the people, and every power of the being is strained to the utmost to get improvements, so that they can live, even comfortably. These things make such countries a very hard field for the truth to flourish in.
If the readers of this article could travel in western Kansas or Nebraska, where the country is just settling up, they would realize more the force of this. Thousands of people live in what are called “dug outs,” that is, a hole dug in a side of a hill far enough so that a man can stand up, then a front, of one thickness of boards, as high as the back part, then sides, of boards, sufficient to form an inclosure, then a roof formed of poles upon which dirt and sods form the shingling, and a window with four panes of glass in it, the sides looking out into the sky, and a small door for entrance. Here people stay until they can get means to put up a better house. Of course they hope not to stay long in such places, but some do for years. And many a man lives in a house a long time that he would not have thought fit for his cattle or horses when he sold out and started for the far West. Poor people who have no homes and who expect time to continue, may be justified in enduring such privations in hopes of a homestead or farm of their own in a few years. But can those who are well situated and have the means of living comfortably, and who profess to believe the Lord is soon to come, be wise in placing themselves where they are liable to be brought into such circumstances? And is it not an absolute denial of Advent faith for people to do so?
It is very evident that many expect to really better their condition and live more easily by moving to some new country where land is cheap. They think they have enough property to start them well in their new home and have a surplus left to use in other ways. But I have seen very many make poor calculations in this respect, and find their money all gone before they were half as well fixed to live comfortably as they were in the place from which they had gone, and not a few who were entirely broken up by it. People almost always find things that they have to buy, in their new homes, higher than they expected, because there are always many others in similar circumstances, just starting, which creates a great local demand, which they did not expect. A thousand unforeseen contingencies occur that call for means, and the money is soon gone, and but few of the improvements they left behind have they obtained. They must then run in debt and work excessively hard to get in a condition as favorable as before. And all through the West are many persons who had been well off that have become poor; especially is this liable to be true of those past the middle age of life who have spent their best days in getting them a good home before.
It does seem to me nothing short of folly for people who have everything around them they need, to sell out and have to go all through the hard work of getting buildings, fences, and other improvements, the second time, when they already have these to start on.
Especially does this seem to be so in the case of Adventists. They claim to believe that time is short. For them to place themselves where it is morally certain they must be overrun with business and hard work for a half dozen years ahead before they can see out, seems foolish in the extreme. Adventists are expecting great troubles and commotions in the earth, and that God's judgments will fall heavily upon this nation. Those who live on the extreme border always feel hard times and a stringent money market more than in the other States. If our views are correct, we are not going to have a long time of prosperity. The popular preachers are crying, “Peace and Safety,” but we do not expect to see such times, but rather, troubles, and suffering, and perilous times. If there ever was a time when our people should be taking in sail, getting out of debt instead of cherishing a speculating spirit, that time is now. The spirit of speculation, of running in debt and living on the future, is one of the worst evils among our people. It grows out of covetousness, a desire to have that which has not been fairly earned, and it prompts us to make promises which we do not know we can meet. What moral right has a man to make promises to pay a certain sum of money on uncertainties? He certainly runs a risk of telling an untruth, to say the least, and if I am not much mistaken, much of the running in debt of the present day will be found of this character. There is a terrible amount of trouble growing out of the common practice of running in debt, and very much of the disgrace to the cause brought upon it in many places can be traced to this source.
This speculative spirit is going to ruin thousands. It leads to running in debt, and to an unsettled state of mind that can't be contented anywhere. People will labor hard to improve their places, erect buildings, have their fences in good repair, have fruit around them, and succeed in getting all the comforts of life within their reach, and as soon as they have accomplished these objects, and seem to be in a position where they might give liberally to the cause of God every year, instead of being obliged to apply it to making improvements on their places, become unsettled in their feelings and nothing will satisfy them but to sell out and go over all this labor again. I do not believe God is pleased with this, and many times his judgments follow this course.
There are many who become involved, and lose all they have, and see no peace of mind, as the result. People have always plenty of plausible excuses on hand to justify their course. Some do it to buy their children cheap farms, and to help them; but really curse their children, by placing means in their hands that they never have learned to manage properly, which is soon fooled away by poor management and running in debt. It would have been far wiser had these children been left to learn the value of property by earning some themselves. And when they had shown a talent for proper management, judicious assistance could be given. People act as if what they had was all their own, not realizing that God has merely made them stewards of it, and that by-and-by they will have to give a strict account of their stewardship. I fear it will be hard for some to give such an account, where thousands have been thrown away thoughtlessly if not recklessly.
Our people in many places are getting a reputation for being an unsettled, speculating, and moving people. This seems strange when we think of the doctrines they hold. One would naturally think those who believed in the soon coming of Christ and the destruction of all worldly property, would be just the contrary. Is it not then because Satan excites us to covetousness? Has he not a desire to destroy us and lead us to deny our faith? Yes, we know he makes a special effort to destroy God's people in this direction. Should we not then make a special effort to cultivate peace and contentment of mind? We shall find this by considering the value of eternal life, the vanity of worldly goods, and by securing God's blessing in our hearts. How many I have known who regretted, when it was too late, that they had not been more contented. They would give much could they be back where they were. It seems hard for people to learn that happiness after all is mainly internal. Untoward circumstances will not make us happy. “A contented mind is a continual feast.” Paul and Silas were happy, and could even sing the high praises of God in prison with their backs raw and bleeding, while many a man is wretched with wealth and luxury around him. That “peace that passeth all understanding” is not found with those who are full of the spirit of speculation and desire to get somewhere else, that they may heap up treasures for the last-day fires to consume. It is strange how this moving fever runs in a community or church. It is as catching as the small-pox or measles. The spirit of the Lord will not remain with it, so far as I have observed.
I would say, in summing up, then, that while it is in some cases right to move, persons should be sure that they are actuated by right motives, and that there is at least a probable prospect of accomplishing the good they desire. The advancement of the cause of truth and the salvation of precious souls is first in importance of all, and we fear but few have changed locations with this the main motive in their hearts. Our temporal good, may also be a proper motive if it does not involve us in greater loss spiritually. But to leave all spiritual privileges for the sake of doubtful, temporal benefits, is not wise. This motive should never be primary. “Seek first the kingdom of God,” our Saviour declares. Never should moving be entered upon without earnest prayer, and seeking after light and duty. Neither could we advise those who have always been in trouble where they are, and brought reproach upon the cause, to go somewhere else and bring another stain. Better stay where they are, and redeem the past. And above all should we beware of the speculating, unsettled spirit of the age. It is sure death to piety, and will certainly lead to ruin. Troubles are before us, and the truly wise will be preparing for them, by keeping out of debt and having their affairs on a sound basis, and above all by seeking God and having the mind of the Spirit.
GEO. I. BUTLER.
Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, Feb. 23, 1872.

SINAI AND CALVARY.

Hark! from Mount Sinai’s flaming brow The long blown trumpet’s quivering sound! Beneath, the sons of Israel bow, With trembling hope, with awe profound.
Jehovah speaks—the lightnings fly, And peals of heavy thunder roll Their awful voices through the sky, While nature shakes from pole to pole.
“I am the Lord”—a thousand peals Still louder sound one vast “Amen!” Louder than when, on bloody wheels, Huge Moloch shakes the Hindoo plain.
I am the Lord—thy God alone; Alone possessed of power divine, Bend not to any other throne, Obey no other law but mine.
That law, Jehovah, oh, how broad! Who can the arduous path pursue? That holy law, O righteous God, Includes thoughts, words, and actions too.
“Curs’d is the man,” I hear it say, That keeps not, while he lives, the whole; For in the last great Judgment day One failing sinks the guilty soul.
But hark! from yonder purple hill Sweet accents float upon my ear— Christ’s last words through my bosom thrill, And gently dissipate my fear.
Dear Jesus! to thy cross I fly, On thy almighty love I fall; Be thou my Advocate on high, My Life, my Righteousness, my All!
—Sel.

Late Hours.

HENRY WARD BEECHER preached, April 24, on “Late Hours” and the “Unfruitful Works of Darkness,” and in the course of his sermon, said:
“If you want to make the ruin of a child sure, give him liberty after dark. You cannot do anything nearer to insure his damnation than to leave him at liberty to go where he will without restraint. After dark he will be sure to get into communication with people that will undermine all his good qualities. I do not like to speak to parents about their children; but there are thousands who think their child cannot do wrong. Their child will not lie, when his tongue is like a bended bow; he will not drink, when there is not a saloon within a mile of his father’s house where he is not as well known as one of its own decanters; he never does iniquitous things, when he is reeking in filth. Nineteen out of every twenty allowed perfect freedom at night will be wounded by it. There is nothing more important than for a child to be at home at night; or, if he is abroad, you should be with him. If he is to see any sights or take any pleasure, there is nothing that he should see that you should not see with him. It is not merely that the child should be broken down, but there are thoughts that never ought to find a passage into a man’s brain. As an eel, if he wriggle across a carpet, will leave his slime, which no brushing can ever efface, so there are thoughts that never can be got rid of, once permitted to enter; and there are individuals going round with obscene books and pictures under the lapels of their coats, that will leave ideas in the mind of your child that will never be effaced. There are men here who have heard a salacious song, and they never will forget it. They will regret having heard it to the end of their lives. I do not believe in a child’s seeing life, as it is called, with its damnable lust and wickedness, to have all his imagination set on fire with the flames of hell. Nobody goes through this fire, but they are burned, burned, burned, and can never get rid of the scars.”

A Wife’s Power.

The power of a wife for good or evil is irresistible. Home must be the seat of happiness, or it must be forever unknown. A good wife is to a man, wisdom, courage, and strength; a bad one is confusion, weakness, and despair. No condition is hopeless to a man where the wife possesses firmness, decision, and economy. There is no outward prospects which can counteract indulgence, extravagance, and folly, at home. No spirit can long endure bad domestic influence. Man is strong, but his heart is not adamant. He delights in enterprise and action, but to sustain him he needs a tranquil mind, and especially if he is an intellectual man with a whole heart, he needs his moral forces in the conflict of life. To recover his composure, home must be a place of peace, of cheerfulness, and of comfort. There his soul renews its strength, and goes forth with fresh vigor to encounter the labor and troubles of life. But if at home he finds no rest, and is there met with bad temper, sullenness, jealousy, or gloom; or is assailed by complaints and censure, hope vanishes, and he sinks into despair. Such is the case with too many, who, it might seem, have no conflicts or trials of life. Such is a wife’s power.—Sel.

Do and Know.

I WAS talking with a man who had been an infidel for forty years. So firm was he in his belief, that he said not earth nor Heaven could convince him of the truth of the Bible.
“The truth of the Bible,” I said. “Then you do not believe in redemption, Judgment, Heaven, or hell.”
“No, I do not,” he replied. “I believe and think I am right—know I am—that the whole thing is false.”
I desired him to read attentively one passage: “If any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of God.” John 7 : 17.
He fixed his large eyes upon me, and said, “Do you pretend to say that is in the Bible?”
One week after, I met him at a prayer-meeting held in the woods, and he said to me, “I have read that passage and thought of it, but am not convinced.”
“Have you practiced it?” I asked.
“What is His will?” he replied.
“That you should bless him with all your heart, for what he has done for you.”
“Then what?” he asked.
“Acknowledge yourself a sinner, for not doing it before. You live,” said I; “thank Him for that. You have the offer of everlasting life. Are there no thanks due for that?”
He made no reply. I continued, “When you have done that, cast yourself at his feet, as a sinner, and seek for pardon.
Early the next morning, he came trembling to me, and said, “Pray for me, for I am an awful sinner.”
“Are you ready to tell God that?” I asked.
“Yes,” and he dropped on his knees, and raising his trembling hand upward, cried out, “O Lord, I am a wretched sinner; have mercy upon me. Soon after he said, “Oh, I know of the doctrine—the Bible is all truth. Thanks be to God, I see it, I know it.”
A few days after he said, “Oh, what a sinner; what a Saviour!” and after some months, “I’m a miracle of mercy. Brethren, the grace of God did that.”
“If ye continue in my word then are ye my disciples indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” John 8 : 31, 32.—Sel.

The North Wind.

THE north wind, in angry, discontented mood, one morning entered a flower garden, disposed to quarrel with all he saw. Irritable at perceiving that peace and harmony reigned there, he asked, “Are there never contentions among you?”
And all the flowers raised their heads in wonder, saying, “How could we quarrel? We are flowers of one garden.”
“Still,” continued the north wind, “There must be cause for disputes; do not the lofty flowers conceal the lowly from the passers’ admiration? Are not those who are surrounded with leaves, or whose color and scent are indifferent, overlooked?”
“This has often been,” replied the flowers; “yet why should we quarrel; are we not all of one garden?”
The wind, vexed at their simplicity, betook himself to a wood, where he asked the trees, “Are there never contentions among you?”
All their branches quivered with astonishment, as they replied, in one voice, “Nay, verily, are we not trees of one wood?”
“What does that matter?” cried the wind, angrily, “you might find many reasons for quarrelling; such as—”
“But we look not for them, nor on them,” interrupted the trees, “and so we dwell in peace.”
“I will ask the birds,” thought the wind, as he entered a lovely little grove where the birds were building their nests and singing their morning song of praise; and they replied in chorus, “Is there strife amidst our labors? Is there discord in our song? Are we not birds of one grove?”
So the wind was uneasy, and said to himself, “Are all at peace except me?” Then passing by an ivy-covered church, he saw a little group of villagers issue from it, and thought, “Oh! would that the human race could understand my language, that I might ask if they ever dispute.”
And if the wind could have made his thought known to that little band, would this have been the reply? “We are all children of one Father; members of one church; travelers in one wilderness; heirs of one home; why should we contend? Are we not all children of one Father?”

Domestic Life.

SPEAKING of domestic life, how rarely one takes into consideration the whole complex nature of it, judging that it is an affair of pots and kettles, of eating and drinking, of lying down and rising, sweeping and dusting; and though, to be sure, these are the frame-work upon which it hangs, so to speak, they are not its essence. A domestic life is not necessarily one of drudgery, a perpetual devotion to the fire-god, a continual opening of oven doors and watching of boiling pots. It is, rather, a life of unity, in which each part is subservient to the whole, of which no part is mean and insignificant, since the whole being the science of living, and life a gift from God, it follows that no fraction of it is beneath our attention. It is the old story of the convertibility of things.
There are some homes which seem pervaded with an atmosphere of repose; where domestic life is like a melody, worn old, perhaps, but associated with sweetest reminiscences.. It may not be a wealthy home, it may merely afford “a sufficiency,” or even a shabby gentility; but the tune never loses tone or descends to discords. And there are other homes where it is one hurry and skurry from morning to night; where the china drops into fragments at a touch; where the bread is sour, the cake heavy, and everything at loose ends; where plenty masquerades in the garb of poverty; where there is waste instead of economy; because their domestic life is a thing of low aims and petty ambitions, does not move equably toward order and happiness, and is unrelated to the suggestion that this life is but the phase of the heavenly condition, where we shall form one harmonious family, moved by one aspiration, informed with never-failing love.—Harper’s.

The Devil's Roaring and the Hedged Way

THE world is not as the devil would like it to be. It is flattering him to fancy that he has it all his own way. He may go roaring about like a raging lion, seeking whom he may devour, but there is a hedged way behind Christ’s cross where he cannot come, though he may frighten the pilgrims there with his roaring, and sometimes may befoul those whom he cannot tear

Mothers, Speak Kindly.

CHILDREN catch cross tones quicker than parents, and it is a much more mischievous habit. When mother sets the example, you will scarcely hear a pleasant word among the children in their plays with each other. Yet the discipline of such a family is always weak and irregular. The children expect just so much scolding before they do anything that they are bidden; while in many a home, where the low, firm tone of the mother, or the decided look of her steady eye, is law, they always think of obedience, either in or out of sight.
O Mother, it is worth a great deal to cultivate that excellent thing in a woman—a low, sweet voice. If you are ever so much tried by the mischievous or wilful pranks of the little ones, speak low. It will be a great help to you to even try to be patient and cheerful, if you cannot succeed. Anger makes you wretched, and your children also. Impatient, angry tones never did the heart good, but always evil. Read what Solomon says of them, and remember he wrote with an inspired pen. You cannot have the excuse for them that they lighten your burdens any—they make them only ten times heavier. For your sake, as well as your children's learn to speak low. They will remember that tone. So, too, will they remember a harsh and angry tone. Which legacy will you leave your children?—Sel.

Spiritual Manifestations in Beecher’s Church.

In the Banner of Light of Nov. 25, we published an interesting letter from New York, giving an account of the physical manifestations which have taken place in Mr. Beecher’s church for some time past. We sent a copy of our paper to the New York Herald, and that paper indorses the account in a lengthy article, from which we take the following extract:
There are three reporters’ tables standing against Mr. Beecher’s platform. The middle table, directly in a line with Mr. Beecher, is an innocent-looking affair of pine, stained to imitate black walnut. Some four or five weeks previous to Mr. Beecher’s summer vacation, I noticed an unusual commotion in the little circle of reporters, and, as I had been seated by the usher in a chair very near their table, I could not avoid seeing all that was going on. Mr. Beecher was in the middle of his long præ-sermon prayer. As he uttered the words, “Let the whole earth learn the power of love such as brought Christ to earth to die for men,” the table moved slowly and deliberately toward one of the ladies, and pushed so violently against her arm that she was obliged to move back. Then it moved as deliberately to the lady opposite. You should have seen the faces of the reporters. They had evidently seen table-moving before, but were not prepared for a seance in front of the immense congregation of Plymouth Church. Their eyes said plainly, “What shall we do if this table keeps moving?” But keep moving it did, back and forth, with a slow, monotonous slide, till the prayer was finished, and then it gave three emphatic tips by way of “amen.” “Undoubtedly somebody up stairs indorses Beecher,” said I to myself, my eye still on the table. Then the hymn was given out. It was about adverse winds, and cares, and troubles, but each stanza closed with this line:
“As my day my strength shall be.”
When that line was sung, the table tipped so that pencils lying upon it rolled to the floor, and the reporters, who had evidently forgotten the spirits for a moment in the music, gave a little involuntary start, and the look of horror to a looker-on was irresistibly comic. They controlled themselves perfectly, however, and took their paper upon hymn books in their laps and began to write. Meaning to do their best, they all moved back, so that not the hem of a garment touched the table. They even laid their gloves upon the projecting rim of the platform. Mr. Beecher preached one of his most radical sermons that day. He spoke of the power of brotherhood and of the love that hopeth all things, believeth all things, endureth all things. He spoke of the cruelty of society in its prisons, and all its disciplinary machinery, and deplored that self-sacrificing love alone could regenerate the world. The table seemed alive. At the very points where a radical reformer would have wished to applaud, the table would push with great force one of the reporters and travel to the opposite side as though to say, “That’s so; that’s the truth.” That the table was not touched by even the reporter’s raiment during the sermon, I would take my oath before any court in the country.
“How long did this go on?”
“Until the church closed for the summer, and one or two Sundays after the re-opening.”
“How do you account for it?”
“I suppose the reporters all to be more or less mediumistic.”
“What do you mean by mediumistic?”
“So organized that spirits can penetrate their atmosphere. Mr. Beecher has the same organization, only in a greater degree, and he stood where he could form a part of the circle. There were well-known spiritualists in the immediate neighborhood, and the conditions were right for manifestations.”
“You never heard any rappings there?”
“Yes; once. During the whole of one sermon, there were low but distinct raps, not in the table, but in the platform. Mr. Beecher must have heard them if he had not been so earnestly engaged in his sermon.”
“How do you account for the cessation of the manifestations?”
“The thing was attracting so much attention that the reporters had decided to leave the table and sit separately in the audience if it went on; and I suppose (of course I don’t expect you to agree) that their spirit-friends didn’t wish to annoy them, and so they restrained their wish to communicate.”—Banner, of Dec. 16, 1871.
Continue reading: The Danger of Seeming To Be Better than you Are