Signs of the Times, Vol. 5, No. 38. (10/9/1879)

Signs of the Times

Oct 9, 1879

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Oct 9, 1879

General Articles.

By Mrs. E. G. White

THE OFFERING OF LOVE.

BY MRS. E. G. WHITE.

Jesus stopped at the house of Lazarus in Bethany. He was on his way from Jericho to attend the feast of the passover at Jerusalem, and chose this retreat for rest and refreshment. Crowds of people passed on to the city, bearing the tidings that Jesus was on his way to the feast, and that he would rest over the Sabbath at Bethany. This information was received with great enthusiasm by the people; for the news had spread everywhere of the wonderful works wrought by Jesus, the last and most astonishing of which was the resurrection of Lazarus from the dead. Many flocked to Bethany, some from curiosity to see one who had been raised from the dead, and others because their hearts were in sympathy with Jesus, and they longed to look upon his face and hear his blessed words.

They returned with reports that increased the excitement of the multitude. All were anxious to see and hear Jesus, whose fame as a prophet had spread over all the land. There was a general buzz of inquiry as to who the wonderful Teacher was, from whence he had come, if Lazarus who had been raised from the dead would accompany him to Jerusalem, and if it was likely that the great prophet would be crowned king at the feast. The attention of the people was entirely engrossed in the subject of Jesus and his wondrous works. The priests and rulers saw that they were losing their hold upon the minds of the people, and their rage against Jesus was increased; they could hardly wait for him to come and give them the desired opportunity of gratifying their revenge and removing him forever from their way. As the time passed, they became excited and restless, fearing that after all Jesus might not come to Jerusalem. They were fearful that he had read their purposes against him, and would therefore remain away. They remembered how often he had divined their thoughts, exposed their hidden motives, and baffled their murderous designs. They could illy conceal their anxiety, and questioned among themselves, "What think ye, that he will not come to the feast?"

A hasty council of the priests and Pharisees was called to determine how to proceed with regard to Jesus, in view of the excitement and enthusiasm of the people on his account. They decided that it would be dangerous to seize upon him openly on any pretext, for since the raising of Lazarus the sympathies of the people were greatly in favor of Jesus. So they determined to use craft and take him secretly, avoiding all uproar or interference, carry on the mockery of a trial as quietly as possible, and trust to the fickle tide of public opinion to set in their favor when it was known that Jesus was condemned to death.

But another consideration came up: If they should execute Jesus, and Lazarus should remain as a witness of his miraculous power to raise from the dead, the very fact that a man existed who had been four days in the grave, and whose body had begun to decay, yet had been called to life and health by a word from Jesus, would sooner or later create a reaction and bring disaster upon themselves for sacrificing the life of Him who could perform such a miracle for the benefit of humanity. They therefore decided that Lazarus must also die. They felt that if the people were to lose confidence in their rulers, the national power would be destroyed.

To such lengths do envy and bitter prejudice lead their slaves. In rejecting Christ, the Pharisees placed themselves where darkness and superstition closed around them, until, continually increasing in hatred and unbelief, they were ready to imbue their hands in blood to accomplish their unholy ends, and would even take the life of one whom Infinite power had rescued from the grave. They placed themselves where no power, human or divine, could reach them; they sinned against the Holy Spirit, and God had no reserve power to meet their case. Their rebellion against Christ was settled and determined; he was a stumbling-block and a rock of offense to them; they would not have this man Jesus to reign over them.

While all this plotting was going on at Jerusalem, Jesus was quietly resting from his labors at the house of Lazarus. Simon of Bethany, whom Jesus had healed of leprosy, wishing to show his Master special honor, made a supper and invited him and his friends as guests. The Saviour sat at the table, with Simon, whom he had cured of a loathsome disease, on one side, and Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead, on the other. Martha served at the table, but Mary was earnestly listening to every word that fell from the lips of Jesus. She saw that he was sad; she knew that immediately after raising her brother from the dead, he was obliged to seclude himself in order to escape the persecution of the leading Jews. As she looked upon her brother in the strength of perfect health, her heart went out in gratitude to Jesus who had restored him to her from the grave.

Jesus in his mercy had pardoned the sins of Mary, which had been many and grievous, and her heart was full of love for her Saviour. She had often heard him speak of his approaching death, and she was grieved that he should meet so cruel a fate. At great personal sacrifice she had purchased an alabaster box of precious ointment with which to anoint the body of Jesus at his death. But she now heard many express an opinion that he would be elevated to kingly authority when he went to Jerusalem, and she was only too ready to believe that it would be so. She rejoiced that her Saviour would no longer be despised and rejected, and obliged to flee for his life. In her love and gratitude she wished to be the first to do him honor, and, seeking to avoid observation, anointed his head and feet with the precious ointment, and then wiped his feet with her long, flowing hair.

Her movements had been unobserved by the others, but the odor filled the house with its fragrance and published her act to all present. Some of the disciples manifested displeasure at this act, and Judas boldly expressed his disapprobation at such a wasteful extravagance. Simon the host, who was a Pharisee, was influenced by the words of Judas, and his heart filled with unbelief. He also thought that Jesus should hold no communication with Mary because of her past life. Judas, the prime instigator of this disaffection among those who sat at the table, was a stranger to the deep devotion and homage which actuated Mary to her deed of love. He had been appointed treasurer of the united funds of the disciples, and had dishonestly appropriated to himself means which were designed for the service of God.

He had indulged a spirit of avarice until it had overpowered every good trait in his character. This act of Mary was in such marked contrast with his selfishness that he was ashamed of his avarice, and sought to attribute his objection to her gift, to a worthier motive. Turning to the disciples he asked, "Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?" Thus he sought to hide his covetousness under apparent sympathy for the poor, when, in reality, he cared nothing for them.

He longed to have the avails of the expensive ointment in his own hands to apply to his own selfish purposes. By his professed sympathy for the poor he deceived his fellow-disciples, and by his artful insinuations caused them to look distrustfully upon the devotion of Mary. Whispered hints of prodigality passed round the table: "To what purpose is this waste? for this ointment might have been sold for much, and given to the poor." Mary was abashed as the eyes of the disciples were bent sternly and reproachfully upon her. She felt that her deed of devotion must have been wrong, and tremblingly expected Jesus to condemn it also.

But the Saviour had observed all that had transpired, and knew the motives of all who were there assembled. He read the object of Mary in her costly offering. Though she had been very sinful, her repentance was sincere, and Jesus, while reproving her guilt, had pitied her weakness and forgiven her. Mary's heart was filled with gratitude at the compassion of Jesus. Seven times she had heard his stern rebuke to the demons which then controlled her heart and mind, and she had listened to his strong cries to his Father in her behalf. She knew how offensive everything impure was to the unsullied mind of Christ, and she overcame her sin in the strength of her Saviour. She was transformed, a partaker of the divine nature.

Mary had offered her gift in the grateful homage of her heart, and Jesus explained her motive and vindicated her deed. "Let her alone," he said. "Why," he asked, "trouble ye the woman? for she hath wrought a good work upon me." He justified her work to all present as evincing her gratitude to him for lifting her from a life of shame to one of purity, and teaching her to believe in him. Said he, "Against the day of my burying hath she kept this." The ointment so sacredly kept to anoint the dead body of her Lord she had poured upon his head in the belief that he was about to be lifted to a throne in Jerusalem.

Jesus might have pointed out Judas to the disciples as the cause of such severe judgment being passed on Mary. He might have revealed to them the hypocrisy of his character; he might have made known his utter want of feeling for the poor, and his embezzlement of money appropriated to their relief. He could have raised their indignation against him for his oppression of the widow, the orphan, and the hireling; but he refrained from exposing the true character of Judas. He reproached him not, and thus avoided giving him an excuse for his future perfidy.

But he rebuked the disciples, saying, "Ye have the poor with you always, and

whensoever ye will ye may do them good; but me ye have not always. She hath done what she could. She is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying. Verily, I say unto you, wheresoever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world, this also that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." Jesus, looking into the future, spoke with certainty concerning his gospel: That it was to be preached throughout the whole world. Kingdoms would rise and fall; the names of monarchs and conquerors would be forgotten; but the memory of this woman's deed would be immortalized upon the pages of sacred history.

Had the disciples rightly appreciated the exalted character of their Master, they would have considered no sacrifice too costly to offer to the Son of God. The wise men of the East understood more definitely his true position, and the honor due him, than his own followers, who had received his instruction and beheld his mighty miracles. They brought precious gifts to the Saviour, and bent in homage before him, while he was but a babe, and cradled in a manger.

The look which Jesus cast upon the selfish Judas convinced him that the Master penetrated his hypocrisy and read his base, contemptible character. He was stirred with resentment. His heart burned with envy that Jesus should be the recipient of an offering suitable to the monarchs of earth. He went directly from that supper to the chief priests, and agreed to betray him into their hands. The priests were greatly rejoiced at this, and "they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver, and from that time he sought opportunity to betray him."

In the case of Judas we see the fearful result of covetousness and unholy anger. He begrudged the offering made to Jesus, and although not personally rebuked, he was irritated to combine revenge with his avarice, and sell his Lord for a few pieces of silver. Mary showed how highly she prized the Saviour when she accounted the most precious gift none too costly for him; but Judas valued Jesus at the price for which he sold him; his niggardly soul balanced the life of the Son of God against a paltry sum of money. The same cold, calculating spirit is manifested by many who profess Christ to-day. Their offerings to his cause are grudgingly bestowed or withheld altogether under various plausible excuses. A pretense of wide philanthropy, unlimited by church or creed, is not unfrequently one of them, and they plead, like Judas, It is better to give it to the poor. But the true Christian shows his faith by investing in the cause of truth; he is known by his works, for "faith without works is dead."

Jesus read Simon's heart, and knew how he had been influenced by the insinuations of Judas, and that he had questioned in his mind, saying, "This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him; for she is a sinner." When Judas had left the house, Jesus turned to his host and said, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee." Simon replied, "Master, say on." Then Jesus proceeded to speak a parable, which illustrated the contrast between the gratitude of his host, who had been healed of the leprosy, and that of Mary, whose sins had been pardoned. Said he, "There was a certain creditor which had two debtors; the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most?"

Simon did not discern the application which Jesus designed to make, but he answered him, "I suppose that he to whom he forgave most." Jesus replied, "Thou hast rightly judged." This answer condemned Simon. He had been a great sinner, and also a loathsome leper, avoided by all. He had come to Jesus piteously imploring his help, and He who never turned a deaf ear to human woe, had cleansed him from sin and from the terrible disease that was upon him. Simon was humbled, but he had been a proud Pharisee, and he did not look upon himself as being so great a sinner as he really was, and he had now become self-sufficient and lifted up in his own estimation. He had exalted himself as far superior to the poor woman who anointed the feet of her Lord. In entertaining Jesus at his house, he thought he was paying him marked respect; but the Saviour was lowered in his estimation when he permitted the devotion of Mary, who had been so great a sinner. He overlooked the miracle which Jesus had wrought upon him in saving him from a living death, and coldly reasoned with himself if Jesus could be the Messiah, and yet stoop to receive the gift of this woman. He thought that if he were the Christ, he would know that a sinner had approached him and repel her. He did not realize that he himself had been a greater sinner than she, and that Christ had forgiven him as well as Mary. He was ready to doubt the divine character of his Master because he imagined that he detected in him a want of discernment.

On the other hand, Mary was thoroughly penitent and humbled because of her sins. In her gratitude for his pardoning mercy she was ready to sacrifice all for Jesus, and no doubt as to his divine power troubled her mind for a moment. It was not the comparative degrees of obligation which should be felt by the two persons, which Jesus designed to illustrate by this parable, for both were unable to cancel their debt of gratitude; but he took Simon on his own ground, as feeling himself more righteous than the woman, and showed him that though the sins which had been forgiven him were great, he had not repaid his Benefactor with that respect and love which casts out all unbelief. His sense of obligation to his Saviour was small, while Mary, prizing the gift of mercy bestowed upon her, was filled with gratitude and love.

Jesus drew the contrast sharply between the two. Said he: "Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet; but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss; but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint; but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment."

The proud Pharisee had considered that he had sufficiently honored Jesus by inviting him to his house; and in his self-consequence had neglected to show him the proper regard due to so exalted a guest, and to one who had wrought upon him a miracle of mercy. Jesus encouraged acts of heart-felt courtesy, and the woman, whose gratitude and love was expressed in her act of attention, was highly commended by the Saviour: "Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven; for she loved much; but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little."

Simon's eyes were opened to his neglect and unbelief. He was touched by the kindness of Jesus in not openly rebuking him before all the guests. He perceived that Jesus did not wish to exhibit his guilt and his want of gratitude to others, but desired to convince his mind by a true statement of his case, and to subdue his heart by pitying kindness. Stern denunciation would have closed the heart of Simon against repentance; but patient admonition convinced him of his error and won his heart. He saw the magnitude of the debt which he owed his Lord, and became a humble, self-sacrificing man.

When we realize the full debt of obligation to our Saviour, we are united to him by closer bonds, and our love will be expressed in all our acts. Jesus will remember every good work done by his children. The self-sacrificing and benevolent will live in his memory and be rewarded. No act of devotion to his cause will be forgotten by him. There is no sacrifice too costly to be offered on the altar of our faith.

THE HOPE OF LIFE.

THE star is not extinguished when it sets Upon the dull horizon; it but goes To shine in other skies, then re-appear In ours, as fresh as when it first arose.

The river is not lost, when, o'er the rock, It pours its flood into the abyss below: Its scattered force re-gathering from the shock, It hastens onward, with yet fuller flow.

The bright sun dies not, when the shadowing orb Of the eclipsing moon obscures its ray: It still is shining on; and soon to us Will burst undimmed into the joy of day.

The lily dies not, when both flower and leaf Fade, and are strewed upon the chill sad ground; Gone down for shelter to its mother-earth, 'Twill rise, re-bloom, and shed its fragrance round.

The dew-drop dies not, when it leaves the flower, And passes upward on the beam of morn; It does but hide itself in light on high, To its loved flower at twilight to return.

The fine gold has not perished, when the flame Seizes upon it with consuming glow: In freshened splendor it comes forth anew, To sparkle on the monarch's throne or brow.

Thus nothing dies or only dies to live: Star, stream, sun, flower, dew-drop, and the gold; Each goodly thing, instinct with buoyant hope, Hastes to put on its purer, finer mould.

Thus in the quiet joy of kindly trust, We bid each parting saint a brief farewell. Weeping, yet smiling, we commit their dust To the safe keeping of the silent cell.

Softly within that peaceful resting-place, We lay their weary limbs; and bid the clay Press lightly on them, till the night be past, And the far east give note of coming day.

The day of re-appearing! how it speeds! He who is true and faithful speaks the word, Then shall we ever be with those we love. Then shall we be forever with the Lord.

The shout is heard; the archangel's voice goes forth; The trumpet sounds; the dead awake and sing; The living put on glory, one glad band, They hasten up to meet their coming King.

Short death and darkness: endless life and light! Short dimming; endless shining in yon sphere, Where all is incorruptible and pure; The joy without the pain, the smile without the tear. —Cal. Chris. Advocate.

The Soul’s Life and the Body

By Dudley Marvin Canright

The Immortality of the Soul—History of the Doctrine.

(Continued.)

THE LIFE OF THE SOUL DEPENDENT UPON THE PRESERVATION OF THE BODY.

GENERALLY, no error is born into the world fully grown and perfectly developed; but it has a gradual growth, and passes through different stages of development till it becomes a regular system. Some truth, either natural or revealed, is always taken as the foundation on which to build up a system of error. The counterfeit must at first be very nearly like the genuine, or it would not be received, as all would detect the fraud; so we may expect to find this the case with the doctrine under consideration.

It is a doctrine relating to future life. Let us look a moment at the doctrine of a future as revealed in the word of God. The Lord told man in the beginning, that if he sinned he should surely die. (Gen. 2:17.) When man had sinned, God said to him, "Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." Gen. 3:19. Christ came into the world, died, went into the grave, and rose again, that man might have a resurrection from the dead. (Rom. 14:9; 1 Cor. 15.) A future life could only be had by a resurrection from the dead. For this resurrection all the ancient worthies, from Abel to Paul, looked with earnest anticipation. (Heb. 11: 4-13, 32-40; Phil. 3: 10, 11.) This resurrection, the angel in the bush taught Moses. (Luke 20: 37.) Job and David, and in short all the ancient people of God, rested all their hopes upon it. (Job. 19: 25-27; Ps. 17: 15.) This was the first and true doctrine of a future life as revealed by God to man.

Now it is an undeniable fact that the first theory which finally led to the doctrine of the immortality of the soul was that the soul would live as long as the body was preserved. If the body perished, then the soul was destroyed too. If the body could be preserved, it would be resurrected, and live again some time in the distant future. They thought the soul would live in the body again; hence the immense expense and untiring pains to embalm the dead body so that it should not decay. It is a well-known fact that the ancient Egyptians, and after them many other nations, embalmed the dead. This they did at great expense, and so effectually that many bodies are preserved in quite a perfect condition to the present day. Their object was to preserve the body so that it would live again. On this point all the best authors agree, as witness the following:—

Calmet, in his Dictionary of the Bible, article "To Embalm," says: "The ancient Egyptians, and the Hebrews in imitation of them, embalmed the bodies of the dead. . . . The art of physic was by the Egyptians ascribed to Isis, and in particular the remedy which procured immortality, which, in my opinion, was no other than that of embalming bodies, and rendering them incorruptible."

In harmony with this, Kitto's Biblical Cyclopedia, article "Embalming," says: "The feeling which led the Egyptians to embalm the dead, probably sprung from their belief in the future reunion of the soul with the body. Such a reunion is distinctly spoken of in the 'Book of the Dead.'"

So Chambers' Cyclopedia, article "Embalming," states: "This art [that of embalming] seems to have derived its origin from the idea that the preservation of the body was necessary for the return of the soul to the human form."

Bunsen, in his elaborate work on Egypt, bears this decisive testimony: "The real meaning of the celebrated passage in Herodotus (II. 123) about the reasons why the Egyptians bestowed so much care on the preservation of the body, and, as it were, on preventing it from passing away, must have been this: The belief in a resurrection of the body. . . . This doctrine we may now read in every page of the sacred books. Thence the popular notion in Egypt that unless the old human envelope was preserved, the soul would be subject to disturbances and hindrances in performing its destined course."

Again: "It is only by considering how very deeply this sense of immortality was engrafted on the Egyptian mind, that we can comprehend the passion for the monstrous and colossal and artistic character of those works of the old empire. As animal worship is merely the Egyptianized African form of an early Asiatic conception, so is also the combination of the care for the preservation of the body, and if possible its protection from destruction, connected with the doctrine of immortality. The soul was immortal; but its happiness, if not the possibility of its continuing to live, depended on the preservation of the body. The destruction of the body, consequently, involved the destruction of the soul. We assuredly owe the stupendous fabric of the pyramids to a superstitious fear of the destruction of the body, rather than to mere vanity or love of display on the part of the builders. . . . This inability, combined with the artistic impulses of the Egyptians, led to the colossal preservatives which arose out of a superstitious adherence to the notion of the value of the body, and which clung with a rigid grip to the materialistic principle." (Egypt's Place in Universal Hist. vol. iv. pp. 641, 642, 651, 652.)

Several facts worthy of attention are stated in the above testimonies.

1. "The belief in a resurrection of the body" was what led the Egyptians to embalm the dead.

2. The belief that the soul would return to the body, and thus begin a new life as a man. This shows that they connected the idea of a future life inseparably with the life of the body.

3. It was "a popular notion in Egypt that unless the old human envelope was preserved," the soul would not be happy. Here, again, the soul depended upon the body.

4. The preservation of the body from destruction was connected with the doctrine of immortality, there being no immortality without the preservation and re-living of the body. "The soul was immortal; but its happiness, if not the possibility of its continuing to live, depended on 'the preservation of the body. The destruction of the body, consequently, involved the destruction of the soul." The soul was immortal only as connected with an immortal body! This is so near the scriptural idea of immortality that we may easily recognize its origin. We have reason to thank God that in those early ages we can find so clear an idea still retained of the divine doctrine of a future life only by the resurrection of the body.

5. These writers say that the pyramids looked to the same object,—a preservation of the dead.

6. The old Egyptians were materialists. Mr. Mitchell, in his "Ancient Geography," confirms the above testimonies. He uses this language: "The priests adopted the doctrine of the transmigration of the soul, while the belief that it will continue as long as the body endures obtained with the people. Whence the care displayed in the preservation of embalmed bodies, or mummies, and the vast expense of excavating tombs in solid rocks." (Lesson 24, p. 60, art. Egypt.)

One more testimony upon this important point must suffice: "Immortality is plainly taught, but bound up with the idea of the preservation of the body to which the Egyptians attached great importance as a condition of the soul's continued life; and hence they built vast tombs, and embalmed their bodies as if to last forever." (Chambers' Ency., art. Immortality.)

Here, then, we have the object of embalming, the object of the pyramids, and the first idea of the immortality of the soul as taught by the Egyptians,—quite different from the present doctrine of the soul's immortality. D. M. C.

Wooden Swearing.

A SABBATH-school was assembled recently for its monthly concert. The lesson was about swearing, and when the children had repeated their verses, the minister rose to talk to them: "I hope, dear children," he said, "that you will never let your lips speak profane words. But now I want to tell you about a kind of swearing which I heard a good woman speak about not long ago. She called it wooden swearing. Its a kind of swearing that many people beside children are given to, when they are angry. Instead of giving vent to their feelings in oaths they slam the doors, kick the chairs, stamp on the floor, throw furniture about and make all the noise they possibly can. 'Isn't this just the same as swearing?' said she. It's just the same kind of feeling exactly, only they do not like to say those awful words; but they force the furniture to make the noise, and so I call it 'wooden swearing.' I hope, dear children, that you will not do any of this kind of swearing either."

Let Them go Down.

Coaxing the devil to support the gospel is a modern device. The primitive church knew nothing of it. When Paul was collecting funds to aid poor saints at Jerusalem, he used no fairs, festivals, "mum sociables" kissing games, or other sanctified snares, to accomplish his object. The Christians paid their own bills, and did not expect Satan to pay for the weapons which they used in warfare against him. When the devil does support a church, he does so in his own interest. He carries on his operations with a full knowledge of the fact that "a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand." For every dollar paid out of his coffer to the church, he receives full value. Church partnerships with the evil one never benefit the former, but always the latter. Hands off!

Untold harm comes to the church by the use of even questionable measures to raise money for the support of God's work. It creates the impression, in the minds of the worldly, that the church is a kind of parasite, dependent for its existence on the community; that it is a sort of genteel beggar, which it is proper and fashionable to support; that it is an object of charity, or even pity and contempt, which is grateful for the tolerance of the people that let it live. The ungodly regard such churches as engaged in seeking money rather than souls, and valuing wealthy members more than poor saints. To stand before the world in this light is humiliating and degrading beyond expression. Such churches ought to be cleansed or closed, cured or killed.

Churches that are doing the Lord's work, and are worth supporting can be supported without the use of questionable means. Let them go down!—Evangelical Messenger.

A Scene in Church on Sunday.

A rich merchant, a poor widow, a young man battling with temptations, and a poor cigar-maker who has lately lost his wife, were among the number who entered the massive portals of the elegant church at E—, last Sunday night. The rich merchant sought his highly upholstered pew, the poor widow an obscure corner, and the cigar-maker and the young man endeavored to make themselves comfortable on a seat near the door. The service commenced; the choir sang a hymn alone, the minister kneeled on a soft ottoman and prayed for all the world, then the collection was taken up, a long list of ungodly amusements was announced for the coming week, another hymn was sung to a tune no one knew but the choir, and then the minister with all eyes riveted upon him announced his text. Until then a helpless and disinterested look was upon our friends; the service, as yet, had no attraction for them. The merchant was evidently in the realms of stocks and bonds and coming dividends. The poor widow was in doubt about the coming rent. The cigar-maker had been in church twice since his wedding—once at his wife’s funeral, and at the present occasion; he evidently did not feel at home. The tempted young man was still agonizing over his temptation, and discussing it pro and con.

But now, the minister stands up to deliver the oracles of God, their disinterestedness is turned to expectancy. They evidently felt "hungry." It matters little where the text was located, the subject was "Evolution." The congregation settled itself down to hear a fine discourse, and to luxuriate in the realms of the minister’s fancy. Vast and deep was the learning he had acquired, long and wide were the paths of knowledge he had trodden. He summoned all his logic and rhetoric to demolish his opponents, and the ghosts of ungodly science were only summoned forth to be put to inglorious flight. Tyndall, Huxley, and Darwin were crushed beneath the weight of his arguments and consigned to everlasting infamy by the invective of his sarcasm. He had arrived as far as the carboniferous period and was holding before his hearers' eyes the first vestiges of an aborescent vegetation, when a wave of uneasiness passed simultaneously over our four friends. Their destitute hearts rebelled against the feast of mind.

The merchant had left one part to be filled with Christ. The elements of his better nature had pleaded with him to wait at least until Sunday night before he had given that sacred reservation to the world. But now as he sat listening to "Evolution," stock, bonds, merchandise, and worldly ambition were soon scrambling for the sacred locality and Christ stood without grieved. The poor widow, immersed in deep affliction, was looking for the hand of Christ to draw her out. Instead of having her wounds healed up with the balm of God’s mercies and promises there came floating toward her in soft cadences and mellifluous sweetness, words that she understood not and which sounded like "Crustacean, Articulates, Batrachians." She, alas, went down to her lonely house with her faith and with a heart whose longing had remained unsatisfied.

The poor cigar-maker, who has always cared more for tobacco than for Christ, had lately been brought into the presence of God by the death of his wife. He had just caught a faint glimpse of the fact that the best part of his life was beyond the grave. Hastening to the church he listened eagerly for some words of cheer, and looked in vain for a beam of hope. A gap had been taken out of his nature, and he was unconsciously looking for Christ to fill it. But a despondent look settled over his face as the void remained untilled, and he never knew how near he had been to "the kingdom." What was he to know about the "tridactyl foot prints of ornithoid reptiles!" The tempted young man had come to church as a place of refuge. Fierce and bitter was the conflict which was raging within him. He listened eagerly for some words of comfort, but none came. Instead of Christ’s pleadings he heard something about the tertiary epoch. Instead of having some sweet peace distilled into his soul he listened to a Ciceronian period on "prehistoric man." He gave up in despair, and just as the minister was ending in a brilliant peroration the temptation overpowered him. And as the vast congregation was slowly wending its way out of the church enlivened by the peals of the organ there were four who were going into the coming week with dissatisfied hearts. There were four who had hungered for Christ and been filled with husks of science.—N. Y. Advocate.

Love and Reverence

No man is ever good for any thing until he has found two things;—first, something to love; and, second, something to reverence.

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