Earlier text: QUESTIONINGSLove without Dissimulation, and Faith Unfeigned.
[The following article, by Mrs. H. W. Beecher, is too good to be lost. Every family ought to read it. I therefore send it for insertion in the Review.—D. M. C.] True happiness can never be fully realized in married life if the husband and wife begin by concealing little cares and anxieties—little plans and troubles—little mistakes and follies—any of the little things which, of necessity, fill up the hours of each day. We do not mean that every time they meet, they should, as it were, come to the confessional, and feel bound to repeat all trivial things that transpire in the few hours of separation between their meals; but we do mean, that nothing, however small, should be said or done, by husband or wife, which they would shrink from their companion’s knowing. In every act, take care that you are doing nothing that would give offense—weaken confidence—or waken the first emotion of doubt, or jealousy. Let every act be so true and honest, that though it may not be deemed of sufficient importance to repeat, when together, yet it shall not, in the least, disturb you if it happens to be revealed; but, on the contrary, will increase your happiness to know that the smallest item of your life is shared by your other self. In business—in pleasure—in social life, be open and above board in every act. The wife more often suffers from the husband’s reticence. He, usually, has a more extended acquaintance, and little, very little acts—which to his thought are quite insignificant—are concealed; such as transpire in the haste or spur of the moment, and which in his own heart he would quite as soon his wife should never know—nothing especially wrong—only fun, or temper. The moment either is at all conscious that they have done or said that which they would prefer to hide from the other, they may be sure that they are taking, at least, one wrong step—planting one small seed that, like the tiny mustard, may spring up in a short time, to the dimensions of a vigorous tree—and the fruit, from such small beginning, may be more deadly than the Upas tree. Oh! how many wives there are, this day, who carry in their hearts a bitter, constant pain—a sore that is eating out all the sweetness and joy of home life—which pain they were too proud to reveal when it was a little thing, and as the minute items are accumulating every day, to the pride is added the first emotions of doubt, and they go to the grave, perhaps, with the distress untold, and with the beauty of their faith and trust forever tarnished or destroyed—loving yet doubting—because their nearest and dearest, from mere carelessness, it may be, concealed many small things, which came to the wife at second hand. Ah! that was the bitterest drop of all. The awakening in the next world will reveal many things which had better have been first known in this. Lack of entire confidence between husband and wife, is the canker-worm that has destroyed the domestic peace of thousands. The discovery that there has been a secret, naturally excites suspicion and tends to weaken the affection on either side. Jealousy is a mean, miserable emotion, from which the trusty, loving and honest heart shrinks as from disgrace; and even when so unfortunate as to be assured of ample cause, it is usually with the greatest reluctance that its presence is acknowledged. But it lies dormant in every heart—though with some it shoots into vigorous growth on very slight occasions—and every one plays a hazardous game, who thoughtlessly, from foolish reticence, or sport, ventures by the slightest act to rouse it from its slumbers. Do not keep your troubles in your own heart, even from a wish to avoid giving pain. In what does the union between husband and wife differ from any other friendship, if they are not to share each other’s sorrows and perplexities, as well as to participate in each other’s joys? Let the wife reveal all her troubles—all her follies, even, to her husband—and if he is worthy of that sacred title, he will assist her out of them, or by sympathy help her bear the trouble, or overcome and abstain from the folly. Why should she fear (for it is fear oftener than anything else, which tempts the wife to conceal), if she has the least confidence in his love? When their lives were united, both were equally certain that they had no right to look for perfection in each other. He is her other self, not her judge or master. On the other hand, if a man confides in his wife, her penetration and quick wit will often see difficulties and their remedies which would escape him. He is in the world, or over books, all day—his mind occupied by many details; but she, at home, often alone, or with only an infant companion, will think over what he has told her, and see it in every possible light, and thus be prepared to judge. She has often the time and quiet to ponder and reflect, which he needs, but in the rush and noise of business, cannot secure. There can be no true union, when through pride, fear, or the consciousness of wrong doing, one party conceals from, or attempts to deceive, the other, or holds back from any motive that which each have a right to share mutually. Of course we except professional men—lawyers, physicians, and clergymen,—in so far as they withhold the affairs of others committed to their care, professionally—not a step further. In all else, they who practice concealment, even in business matters, lose half the joy and blessedness that God designed marriage should bestow, besides defrauding their partner of a just right, and laying the foundation of mistrust and misery. Wretched indeed are they who, having taken a companion “for better or for worse,” find that, like a sieve, they are incapable of keeping that which is committed to their love and honor. But until all hope is vain, and you have been compelled to relinquish the last vestige of confidence, have no concealments. The very fact of one party having secrets, is very likely to engender deceit and concealment on the other side; and a companion naturally open and true, may, by a sense of wrong and injustice, be transformed into a very unlovely and deceitful character, saying, in excuse, like Shylock, “The villainy you teach me I will execute; and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction.” Every day brings to light examples where married life is begun with every promise of harmony, but where the happiness of both parties has been utterly wrecked—the mischief begun by “just one” trifling concealment; this followed by another, and another, with shorter intervals, till, step by step, bickerings, heart-burnings, and hatred, fill the home where the light and purity of love once held undisputed sway. After the novelty of marriage has worn off, concealment, and want of confidence, on the part of the husband is more frequently practiced from the foolish and mistaken idea that, by confiding truly in his wife, she will learn to exact it. So his pride takes the alarm, lest, trusting to his other and often better self, he may risk his boasted independence. The wife is often tempted to concealment, and, alas! too often to deceit and falsehood, through fear of her husband’s anger, or, worse, from dread of his ridicule. She may have erred in judgment, or done some weak, foolish, but not wicked thing—and having learned too soon that his tones are not always of the gentlest, feels, instead of guiding her to a clearer light, and higher life, he will probably sit in stern judgment on her mistake; or, that which is the hardest for a loving heart to endure, will ridicule her weakness. Rather than face either of these, she sins against her own conscience, and conceals her fault, though with an uneasy conscience. But successful in this, the next step is easier and less repugnant, or if conscience lifts a warning voice, she silences it by the plea that all the blame should rest with him, who, if he had been gentle, loving, and confiding, she would so joyfully have accepted for her guide and head. Has thy brother gone astray—
Have dark clouds obscured his way
Causing him to stumble? Pray.
Prayer may lift the stricken up;
Prayer may give the hopeless hope;
Prayer may win thy brother back
To the straight and narrow track.
Prayer will move the Mighty Arm
That alone can shield from harm. Has thy sister gone astray?
Suffer not thy heart to say
Hard, reproachful things, but pray.
Thou may’st well give prayers and tears,
Not of moments, but of years,
One poor struggling soul to aid,
In its hour of direst need.
For thy sister gone astray
Pray, in tender pity, pray. Has a Christian gone astray?
’Tis thy brother; do not say
Words of condemnation; pray.
Hadst thou been as sorely tried,
Thou hadst wandered far more wide,
Pray, with meekest charity—
Pray, with purest fervency—
Pray; his soul cannot be lost
And thy heart not rue the cost. ’Tis his hour of sorest need;
Show thyself a friend indeed,
For him with the Saviour plead.
Pray that God’s eternal arm
May deliver him from harm.
Pray. For him the Saviour bled.
Shall that blood in vain be shed?
Bear him to the mercy seat,
Plead for him at Jesus’ feet. HAVE you ever heard of the great clock of St. Paul's in London? At midday, in the roar of business, when carriages, and carts, and wagons, and omnibuses, go rolling through the streets, how many never hear the great clock strike unless they live very near it! But when the work of the day is over, and the roar of business passed away—when men are gone to sleep, and silence reigns in London—then at twelve, at one, at two, at three, at four, the sound of that clock is heard for miles around. Twelve! one! two! three! four! How that clock is heard by many a sleepless man! That clock is just like the conscience of the impenitent man. While he is in health and strength and goes on in a whirl of business he will not hear his conscience. He drowns and silences its voice plunging into the world. He will not allow the inner man to speak to him. But the day will come when conscience will be heard, whether he likes it or not. The day will come when its voice will sound in his ears and pierce him like a sword. The time will come when he must retire from the world, and lie down on the sick bed, and look death in the face. And then the clock of conscience, that solemn clock, will sound in his heart.—Sel. A MERCHANT, who was an infidel, went South every winter to dispose of his goods. During his absence, there was a revival of religion in the place where he lived, and his wife was converted and joined the M. E. church. When the husband returned, before he even reached home, he was told of what had occurred, and though he had been absent several months, he met his wife very coolly; and after a little time, asked her into another room, and set a chair for her, and then said, “I hear you have experienced religion, and joined the M. E. Church.” Putting her hand on his shoulder, she said, “that is just what I have done.” “Well,” he replied, “that beats the devil.” “Yes,” she answered, “that is just what I intended to do.” In less than six weeks, through her example, he was led to the Saviour, and joined the church.—Guide to Holiness. Adapting to Circumstances
He is happy whose circumstances suit his temper; but he is more fortunate who can suit his temper to any circumstances. Gradually the mind awakes to the mystery of life. Excepting only the first pair, every adult member of the human race has come up through the helplessness of infancy and the limited acquirements of childhood. All have reached their full capacity to think and do, only by the slow development of their physical and mental powers. Without either counsel or co-operation of our own, we find ourselves on the plane of human existence, subject to all the conditions of the race, and hastening forward to its destiny, whatever it may be. A retinue of mysterious inquiries throng our steps. Whence came this order of things? Who ordained this arrangement? For what purpose are we here? What is our nature? What are our obligations? And whither are we bound? Life, what a mystery! Having commenced, will it ever end? Once we did not exist; are we destined to that condition again? Death we see everywhere around us. Its victims are silent, cold and still. They give no outward evidence of retaining any of those faculties, mental, emotional, or physical, which distinguished them when living. Is death the end of all these? And is death the last of the race? These are questions which have ever excited in the human mind an intensity of thought, and a strength of feeling, which no other subjects can produce. To these questions, so well-defined, so definite in their demands, and of such all-absorbing interest, where shall we look for an answer? Have we any means within our reach by which to solve these problems? We look abroad upon the earth and admire its multiplied forms of life and beauty; we mark the revolving seasons and the uniform and beneficent operations of nature; we look to the heavenly bodies and behold their glory, and the regularity of their mighty motions—do these answer our questions? They tell us something, but not all. They tell us of the great Creator and upholder of all things; for, as the apostle says, “the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead.” They tell us upon whom our existence depends and to whom we are amenable. But this only intensifies our anxiety a thousand fold. For now we want to know upon what conditions his favor is suspended. What must we do to meet his requirements? How may we secure his approbation? He surely is a being who will reward virtue and punish sin. Sometimes our deeds must be compared with his requirements and sentence be rendered in accordance therewith. How will this affect our future existence? Deriving it from him, does he suspend its continuance on our obedience? or has he made us self-existent beings, so that we must live forever, if not in his favor, then the conscious recipients of his wrath? With what intense anxiety the mind turns to the future. What is to be the issue of this mysterious problem of life? Who can tell? Nature is silent. We appeal to those who are entering the dark valley. But who can reveal the mysteries of those hidden regions till he has explored them? and the “curtain of the tent into which they enter, never outward swings.” Sternly the grave closes its heavy portals against every attempt to catch a glimpse of the unknown beyond. Science proves itself a fool on this momentous question. The imagination breaks down; and the human mind unaided, sinks into a melancholy but well-grounded despair. God must tell us, or we can never know what lies beyond this state of existence, till we experience it for ourselves. He who has placed us here, must make known to us himself his purposes and his will, or we are forever in the dark. Of this, all reverent and thoughtful minds are well assured. Professor Stuart, in his “Exegetical Essays or several Words relating to Future Punishment,” says:—
“The light of nature can never scatter the darkness in question. This light has never yet sufficed to make the question clear to any portion of our benighted race, whether the soul is immortal. Cicero, incomparably the most able defender of the soul’s immortality of which the heathen world can yet boast, very ingenuously confesses that after all the arguments which he had adduced in order to confirm the doctrine in question, it so fell out that his mind was satisfied of it only when directly employed in contemplating the arguments adduced in its favor. At all other times he fell unconsciously into a state of doubt and darkness. It is notorious, also, that Socrates, the next most able advocate, among the heathen, of the same doctrine, has adduced arguments to establish the never-ceasing existence of the soul which will not bear the test of examination. If there be any satisfactory light, then, on the momentous question of a future state, it must be sought from the word of God.” H. H. Dobney, Baptist minister, of England (Future Punishment, p. 107), says:—
“Reason cannot prove man to be immortal. We may devoutly enter the temple of nature, we may reverently tread her emerald floor, and gaze on her blue, ‘star pictured ceiling,’ but to our anxious inquiry, though proposed with heart-breaking intensity, the oracle is dumb, or like those of Delphi and Dodona, mutters only an ambiguous reply that leaves us in utter bewilderment.” And what information have they been able to give us, who have either been ignorant of divine revelation, or, having the light, have turned their backs upon it? Listen to a little of what they have told us, which sufficiently indicates the character of the knowledge they possessed. Socrates, when about to drink the fatal hemlock, said:—
“I am going out of the world, and you are to continue in it; but which of us has the better part, is a secret to every one but God.” Cicero, after recounting the various opinions of philosophers on this subject, levels all their systems to the ground by this ingenuous confession:—
“Which of these is true, God alone knows, and which is the most probable is a very great question.” Seneca, reviewing the arguments of the ancients on this subject, said:—
“Immortality, however desirable, was rather promised than proved by these great men.” And the skeptic Hobbs, when death was forcing him from this state of existence, could only exclaim, with dread uncertainty, “I am taking a leap in the dark!”—dying words not calculated to inspire any great degree of comfort and assurance in the hearts of those who are inclined to follow in his steps. With a full sense of our need, we turn, then, to the revelation which God has given us in his word. Will this answer our inquiries? It is not a revelation if it does not; for this must be the very object of a revelation. Logicians tell us that there is “an antecedent probability in favor of a divine revelation, arising from the nature of the Deity and the moral condition of man.” On the same ground there must be an equal probability that, if we are immortal, never-dying beings, that revelation will plainly tell us so. To the Bible alone, we look for correct views on the important subjects of the character of God, the nature of life and death, the resurrection, Heaven, and hell. But our views upon all these, must be, to a great extent, governed by our views of the nature and destiny of man. On this subject, therefore, the teachings of the Bible must, of consistency, be sufficiently clear and full. Prominent upon the pages of inspiration, we see pointed out the great distinction which God has put between right and wrong, the rewards he has promised to virtue, and the punishment he has threatened against sin; we find it revealed that but few, comparatively, will be saved, while the great majority of our race will be lost; and as the means by which the perdition of ungodly men is accomplished, we find described in fearfully ominous terms, a lake of fire burning with brimstone, intense and unquenchable. How these facts intensify the importance of the question, Are all men immortal? Are these wicked immortal? Is their portion an eternity of incomprehensible, conscious torture, and unutterable woe? Have they in their nature a principle so tenacious of life that the severest implements of destruction with which the Almighty can assail it, an eternity of his intensest devouring fire can make no inroads upon its inviolate vitality? Fearful questions!—questions in reference to which it cannot be that the word of God will leave us in darkness, or perplex us with doubt, or deceive us with falsehood. In commending the reader to the word of God on this great theme, it is unnecessary to suggest to any candid mind the spirit in which we should present our inquiries. Prejudice or passion should not come within the sacred precincts of such an investigation. If God has plainly revealed that all the finally impenitent of our race are doomed to an eternity of conscious misery, we must accept that fact however hard it may be to find any correspondence between the magnitude of the guilt and the infinitude of the punishment, and however hard it may be to reconcile such treatment with the character of a God, who has declared himself to be “LOVE.” If on the other hand, the record shows that God’s government can be vindicated, sin meet its just deserts, and at the same time such disposition be finally made of the lost, as to relieve the universe from the horrid spectacle of a hell forever burning, filled with sensitive beings, frenzied with fire and flame, and blaspheming in their ever-strengthening agony,—can any one be the less ready to accept this fact, or hesitate on this account, to join in the ascription, “Great and marvelous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints!” Michigan and Indiana.
By J. H. W.
SABBATH and first-day, March 9 and 10, I spent in Jackson. I found myself very much fatigued with the constant labor of the few weeks previous, but we had some good, profitable meetings. Found one more had taken hold of the truth, and I hope others will yet do so. Having, by request of Bro. Lane, decided to change my route to Indiana, and go by way of North Liberty, I found I had time to stop over and hold another meeting in Burlington, and sent appointment accordingly. The ordinances were celebrated, and five of those who made a start at our special season of prayer were admitted to the fellowship of the church. I trust that good will result from this meeting. The 16th and 17th, I held meetings in North Liberty, Ind. I had not been there since the fall of 1864, and was sorry to find so many there in a state of discouragement. The meetings were well attended, and the general interest seemed good. Some took hold with renewed courage and hope, and I was much encouraged to believe they are going to be revived there. They must help one another. We must all learn that it is a Christian duty to pity and to help those who we think are in error. Tuesday, the 19th, I went from North Liberty to Fairfield, Howard Co., and had meeting in the school-house near Bro. Seaward's. Having a strong desire to visit the friends in Erwin township, on Wednesday morning, in company with Bro. Seaward, I went over the “Big Wildcat Creek,” and had notice circulated for a meeting in the evening. On this day I suffered from the cold more than on any day during the past winter. It is an unusual season. The ground, to-day, the 22d, is white with snow, the frost is not yet out, and the roads are good. Cold west winds. Last year, spring work on the farms was well advanced by this time. Short as was the notice, the house was well filled, and we felt that it was not a lost opportunity. But I had to leave them early in the morning, having a meeting appointed at Bro. Seaward's house at 11 o'clock. This was one of unusual interest. As I tried to set before them the danger of losing the spirit of the message, the nearness of the time of trouble, and the responsibility laid upon us by the knowledge of the truth given to us, the evidence was unmistakable that the love of the truth was there. “Systematic Benevolence,” too long neglected, was entered into with cheerfulness, and I was cheered with the prospect of being able to point to them as an example to those churches that have newly come to the faith. I preached again in the school-house that evening, and three indicated their desire to live out the truth and go with the people of God. Monday, the 25th, the meetings in Owen County were appointed at Spencer in the court-house. They were pretty well attended, and the interest constantly increased. As I had never held any meetings here, I did not feel satisfied to leave them with only four discourses, as I could not see that they would result in any permanent good. Last night there was a decided vote in favor of continuing. The weather has been beautiful, but to-day it rains, and the future is very uncertain for meetings, as we expect a break up immediately. I feel an increasing desire to have all my feelings and interests identified with this solemn work, and pray God to direct and send prosperity. Peculiarities Concerning the Sabbath.
By R. F. Cottrell
THERE are some peculiarities with the opposition to the Sabbath. Those who hold that the Sabbath has been abolished, teach that it was two thousand five hundred years after God rested upon the seventh day and blessed and sanctified it, before any one was under obligation to keep it holy; that from Adam to Moses no one was bound to recognize the day as sanctified; that then it was binding on the Hebrew people only down to the cross of Christ, to which it was nailed, since which it is not binding. But Eld. Burns, in the late discussion at Lancaster, N. Y., admitted that Isa. 66:22, 23, teaches that the Sabbath will be observed in the world to come. To evade the bearing this fact has on the question, he could only attempt to befog the subject by inquiring, “What Sabbath?” The peculiarities, then, of the opposition are these: From the time the Sabbath was sanctified, i. e., set apart to a sacred use, there is a void of some two thousand five hundred years during which it was not binding; then it was binding for some fifteen hundred years; then there is a gap of some two thousand years in which it is not binding, and then it will be binding to all eternity in the world to come. This is singular indeed; especially that such an arrangement should be attributed to the Creator and Disposer of the universe. It looks much more like children’s play. The Sabbath has its peculiarities also. Its law was placed by the finger of God in the midst of nine moral precepts, precepts that no sane man can deny to be binding on all the human race. And, compared with these nine precepts which are universally and perpetually binding, the Sabbath has several peculiarities. 1. Its institution is described in the record of the creation; whereas none of the other nine125precepts are found in the record of several hundred years. 2. The Sabbath existed and was kept by Israel in the desert before they came to Mount Sinai, where the law was given in form by God himself. Ex. 16:23, 30. The keeping of any one of the other nine separately is not found in the record up to that time; though all were kept by Abraham. Gen. 26:5. 3. The Sabbath precept was a part of God’s law more than a month before that law was written on tables of stone. Ex. 16:4. This is not definitely revealed of any other precept of the decalogue. 4. The Sabbath precept is the only one of the ten that refers us back to the creation of the world for its origin. Ex. 20:11. 5. The Sabbath is mentioned oftener in the New Testament than any other commandment of the ten. 6. The Sabbath is the only precept of the ten that we are distinctly taught shall be observed in the new earth. Isa. 66:22, 23. Is it not truly remarkable that a precept thus fortified should be the one singled out for abolition and destruction? Death of Sister Andrews.
By John Nevins Andrews
My dear wife sleeps in death. A second and much severer shock than that of Feb. 17 came upon her March 18, and in an instant she became totally unconscious. Before her second shock, she had to a very great extent recovered from the first. I have never seen more signal answers to prayer than those that were granted during the month which intervened between the two shocks. It pleased God to relieve her in answer to prayer from very many distresses, and, day by day, to give back to her the powers which she had lost. And as we thus sought God our children have united with us, and to our great joy have found Christ. On Monday, March 18, she seemed better than at any time since her first attack. The weather was pleasant, and about 10 o'clock in the morning, she thought to walk out. I was in the act of putting on her cloak, as she stood in the room, when, in a moment, her limbs gave way and she sank to the floor. She lived till three o'clock Tuesday morning, when, without any convulsive effort, her breath ceased, and she fell asleep. Her funeral was on Thursday afternoon. Sermon by Bro. C. B. Reynolds, from Matt. 25 : 21. What sorrow and anguish have been mine during these days no words can express. Yet with the terrible bitterness of the cup has been such sweetness and such blessing from God as exceeds everything that I have ever before experienced. She faithfully shared my burdens, and that to an extent that was little known to others. I here bear record to the fact that she has done the utmost in her power to help me to go out to labor in the cause of God, and has never once complained when I have remained long absent. During the entire period of our married life no unkind word ever passed between us, and no vexed feeling ever existed in our hearts. But her time for rest has come, and she now sleeps in Jesus. Bitter as I find the separation I would not wish her again to bear the burdens from which God has given her a release. Henceforth it shall be my business to lead our dear children toward the heavenly city, and to strive more worthily to preach Christ to perishing men, and to recommend his religion by exemplifying it myself. My dear sleeping wife was, at the time of her death, forty-eight years and nine days of age. Constant care for my wife has prevented my writing for the REVIEW during her sickness. I design to resume it after a little period of needed rest. Educational Progress.
By Jos. Clarke
Important eras in the history of the church and the world have been so attended by favoring circumstances, so heralded by prophecy, and accompanied by power, as to clearly prove that, amid all the conflicting influences always at work in this world, there has been, and still is, existing somewhere, a wise, loving, all-powerful mind, controlling and arranging events, to the accomplishment of plans and purposes reaching infinitely into the dim past and the unexplored future. Look at the condition of the political world at the time of our Saviour's advent, and what student of history is not convinced that an unseen mind and hand had arranged and controlled the affairs of nations so as to favor that sublime and important event, the incarnation of God's own Son. Never, before or since, has the world seen so favorable a time for that act in the drama of our world's history. Again, behold the kind providence of God in the great Reformation of the sixteenth century, a reformation which, in fact, gave the man of sin his deadly wound. We stand amazed as we consider the chain of events in the moral, political, and literary world, which formed the warp and woof of that important movement. Indeed, it seems clearly evident from history that man, as an individual, however important a part he may be called upon to act, is but a fragment in the great whole—only acting for a short time, then giving way to others, who again pass from our sight, while the great and wondrous plan is ever present with its ever-changing hues, unbroken and connected in all its parts. At the time of this writing, a great and noble work is in progress. God's people are everywhere awaking to the necessity of preparing for the second advent of our Lord. Voices are heard almost everywhere, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh! Prepare for his coming! Here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus! This event has been heralded by no common signs, and it is attended now by wonderful events in the moral, political, and literary world. Communities, and States, and nations, are awaking as if stirred by some mighty power; and, as if to give speed to improvement, men send news, or travel, with almost miraculous speed, and events are consequently accomplished in an incredibly short period of time. A few months sufficed to ruin one of the most powerful nations of the earth; and unfortunate France exclaimed, “It is our ignorance that has ruined us.” There is sober common sense in these words, and we see that the nations of Europe are awaking. Russia expends seventeen millions in a single year upon popular education, and yet falls short in her plans, nor can she find teachers as her necessities demand. London passes a law compelling all children of proper age to attend her common schools, and all England is stirred in her efforts to educate the masses. Prussia, not content with her present favorable condition as to popular education, is maturing improved plans for elevating her common schools. Italy has not only set aside the effete, antiquated system of popery, but has established an excellent system of popular education. Brazil has thrown off the chains of slavery and calls for more school books. Japan is sending her youth to Europe and America to learn the elements of modern civilization. China appropriates a million and a half for the same purpose for her sons. In 1864, an American College was established near Constantinople, and opened with only four students. It has now 47 Bulgarians, 47 Armenians, 38 Greeks, 12 English, 4 Germans, 4 Italians, 3 Americans, 3 Jews, and several from other nationalities. In this college, many languages are taught, but the English language is the basis of all, and all are required to learn it. Why this awaking to the education of the masses everywhere, even among the dark and bigoted inhabitants of Eastern Asia, and in benighted Turkey, and enslaved Russia? Has the temporal millennium dawned upon the earth? Nay, verily. We everywhere behold every form of selfishness, and pride, and licentiousness, and crime, more bold than ever. Wickedness never, reveled more freely than at present. Why, then, this stir in favor of free schools? Have crowned heads become less selfish? Have governments become more benevolent and large-hearted? Do we not see, rather, more corruption and rottenness in the civil power than ever before? Shall we not attribute the great improvements in modern free schools to the direct agency of Heaven, as much as in the modern improvements in respect of means of transit and labor by which the elements are pressed into the service of man? Yes; God no doubt is thus preparing the way. Minds are being enlightened, and means prepared, for the rapid spread of the truth. Some from all languages, and tongues, and nations, will accept the glad news of the kingdom. It is an almighty power that has set in motion numberless agencies for the accomplishment of his wise and kind purposes, in the preparing of a people for his praise. Man may glory in his skill and energy, in leveling mountains, and bridging the river and the valley. He may be proud of his ocean telegraph, and his power over the elements to harness them to his car, or ship, or ingenious machine. He may boast of his skill in the arts, almost miraculous in its results. He may exult in his literary attainments, institutions, and advantages. But let him first consider the over-ruling mind and hand that controls all. Then let him consider the vast moral, political, intellectual, and physical ruin all around us, that makes all their artificial arrangements necessary. Then let him indulge pride if it is possible. No; there is no room for pride, even if it were lawful to be proud. As well might the unfortunate collier be vain of the windlass that is to raise him from the ruins of the falling mine, as for man to be vain of the improvements of the age. Well may there be improvements, now that the resurrection morn draws so near; now that the end of all things earthly advances with its darkening shadow; now that the night of man's earthly hopes has already begun to settle down in the distance. In a moment, at the last trump! That moment is nearing! Swiftly it approaches! No wonder that angels are making so great an effort to enlighten the world. It is not singular that our race are stimulated to their best efforts in this day of God's preparation. Human learning, how excellent! how useful! But how it pales before the knowledge that will be intuitive in the souls of the redeemed. Human skill, how grand! How it lightens and facilitates labor! But how it dwindles before the skill of the divine Architect; and how all our modern appliances will appear, when the cloudy chariot takes in its freight and sets out in its majestic ascent to the heavenly city! At that sight, how will even kings and emperors despise their gorgeous palaces and splendid retinues, and turn from them with disgust. Let not man deceive himself with appearances. If he would get a right view of earthly glory, he must first get a view of the heavenly glory, and a sight of the beauties of the celestial world. Then he would properly appreciate the improvements of the age. Daniel wrote, many centuries in the past, of the time of the end, that many would run to and fro, and that knowledge would be increased. It is now that his words are being realized, but shall we mistake the blossom for the fruit? Nahum spoke of the day of his preparation; Isaiah and the other prophets have all spoken of this day; and shall we ignore the facts, and shut ourselves in darkness? Shall we lock ourselves in the dungeon of unbelief and then bury the key? Reader, would you escape the follies of the age, and the results of those follies? Then read the word of God, and search out its most difficult problems. They were placed there for your good. Are the sciences pleasant to you? Do you love to dig for wisdom in the works of the learned? Why should you not also like to dig for divine knowledge in the mine of God's word? Those prophecies were not written to be neglected and carelessly passed by. Go, solve those difficult problems, and let divine rays of light comfort and strengthen you.