Earlier text: Examination of T. M. Preble's First-Day SabbathI sat and gazed upon my sunny home;
All pleasant things were there.
Bright things to look at, and sweet, soothing sounds,
That came and went upon the perfumed air.
The sunbeams glanced and quivered
Through the many colored pane,
And the marble floor at the open door,
Mirrored it back again.
The flowers blushed in beauty,
The birds sang forth their glee,
I looked, and listened, and I thanked my Father
That it was all for me. And then I thought of One who had been here,
In days of yore,
Walking wearily on the earth he made,
The Son of Man, and yet the Son of God, despised
and poor.
I thought of him when first his infant form
Needed a resting place and there was none.
The King of Heaven was waiting to be housed;
Earth’s dwellings had no room.
I thought of him upon the mountain side,
When all night long
The silent stars looked down upon his loneliness;
For Jesus had no home. I thought and thought until my gushing heart
Groaned forth its longings:
Oh! had I been there,
What tender ministry, what fostering care
Wouldst thou have known,
Thou blessed one!
What kindly words!
What thoughts and deeds of love!
The hot tears gathered fast;
I laid me down and wept. Was it a breeze that came into the room
So like a voice?
That came quite close unto my burning brow,
And whispered, “Why not now?”
It came again. I brushed the tears away,
And as I bent my head down very low,
I thought I heard him say,
“But why not now?” There is a door-way in a narrow street,
And close beside that door a broken stair,
And then a low dark room;
The room is bare;
But in a corner lies
A wornout form upon a hard straw bed,
No pillow underneath his aching head,
A face worn wan with suffering, and a hand
Scarce strong enough to reach the small dry crust
That lies upon the chair.
Go in for I am there;
I have been waiting wearily in that cold room,
Waiting long, lonely hours,
Waiting for thee to come. There is a low, quiet corner in a green churchyard,
Where deep, sad, shadows lie;
And sound of passing feet goes seldom by—
I want thee there.
In that still place, beside a new-made grave,
A woman has been weeping all day long;
None marked her when she sate,
And now ’tis getting late
And stars are coming out,
Beautiful stars, my stars,
That used to gaze on me at Olivet;
The chill night dews are creeping through her frame,
She dares not venture back from where she came;
She needs a home;
I called for thee and waited,
But thou didst not come;
I want thy pitying tears that fell just now
Upon the jeweled slab, to fall upon her cheek;
For tears can speak;
Lay the warm hand upon the fainting one,
And leave me not to watch and weep alone. There is one seated near an open door,
Where, to and fro all through the busy day,
The sorrowing and the poor
Have found their weary way;
And now for very weariness
His eyes are closed,
Kind, earnest eyes that have looked lovingly
On many a ghastly spectacle of woe,
Looked into depths where loathsome miseries lie,
And never wept mere idle sympathy;
That heavy hand has fallen by his side,
The strong, brave hand
That waited my command,
And then did deadly battle with the foe,
That never flinched from any task
To which I called;
Were the way smooth or rough,
My bidding was enough.
Go in and look;
For tears have dropped upon the open book.
That heart is burdened—
Burdened for my sake;
Thou in thy thoughtless ease wilt let it break. ’Twas on a summer’s day, long years ago,
I called two willing servants to my feet.
I took them by the hand and said to each,
I shed my blood for thee;
Lovest thou me?
And then I gave him work,
Large work within my fold;
He had no earthly store,
Wherewith to feed my poor.
It mattered not. I’d given thee my gold;
Where is it now? Look at that pallid brow
Sunk in its weary sleep;
The furrows are too deep,
They tell the tale of many an anxious grief,
Not his, but mine. Whence comes the wasting of that haggard cheek?
The guilt is thine.
He gave me all his time, and strength, and health;
I took it, and then asked thee for thy wealth,
Thy given wealth! asked that it might be free,
Held in thine open hand for him and me.
Then came the years of conflict and of toil,
The days of labor and the nights of prayer,
Souls perishing in sin,
Few hands to fetch them in,
The hungry to be fed,
The naked to be clothed,
The outcast and the poor,
Gathered about my door.
I wanted money, and I wanted bread;
I wanted all that willing hands could do;
I wanted the quick ear and ready eye,
Aye, and the deep, true soul of sympathy;
I wanted help, and then I called for thee,
I called and waited, and then I called again;
Oh! could it be that I should call in vain?
I called and waited, and thou didst not come. I tried to hold my breath and hear Him speak;
But it was as though this throbbing heart must break.
I could not lift my head,
I could not sigh,
The crimson shame had burnt into my cheek,
I had no tears, the very fount was dry.
Oh! it was long, I could not tell how long,
That strange, cold stillness,
But I felt that He was waiting there,
Waiting for me to speak.
I knelt upon the floor, and breathed His name;
Then struggling one by one the faint words come:
Jesus I thought I loved thee.
I remember well
That day when thou didst hold
My trembling fingers in thy pierced hand,
And take me for thine own,
And I did love thee.
This poor heart beat true.
It was no fancied echo, when the voice
That spoke thee mine,
Responded, “I am thine.” But O, my Master! can I dare to tell,
Thy faithless child has loved thy gifts too well?
I looked on all things beautiful and rare,
Looked on earth’s flowers,
And thought them very fair;
I hid me from the rude and vulgar throng,
And hoped it was thy will,
That I might turn away from common men,
And love thee still.
I dwelt among the pleasant sounds of life;
I did not like the turmoil and the strife,
To come too near.
And thou wast in the thickest battle tide,
When thou didst call thy servant to thy side;
But I was too far off,
And so I did not hear. My Lord, I will come nearer. I will take my seat
Close at thy feet.
I will come down where the gray shadows lie,
And there I’ll listen, listen every day
To hear thy voice.
It may be I must take a lower place,
But let me have the shining of thy face;
It may be I must seek a humbler home,
Let it be one where thou wilt often come.
Its door shall be the later open for thee,
And for the needy ones who claim
An interest in thy name;
And I will stand and watch, and wait to greet
The first, faint echoes of Thy coming feet.
—Selected for Review. How little is the word of God understood! how poorly appreciated its beauty! God has in his loving-kindness preserved to us the history of the creation of the world, the fall of man, and the plan of sacrifices instituted by him, foreshadowing the suffering of his Son in due time for the redemption of the fallen race, given us examples of holy living in the primitive age, warnings for his people in that age, prophecies for them, and not forgetting us away down in the end of the world, has inspired his servants to write out his will so clearly that it seems that any one desiring to know the truth can see and understand. The precious word! as I take it up and hold it in my hand, I tremble; for I feel it comes from the Lord of Hosts. How sacred! How thoroughly should its teachings be studied, how carefully followed! What can be said of that people who profess to be living out the present truth? Is the depth of its meaning taken hold of as for life itself, and in gratitude to God who has done so much for us? Are its precepts lived out or have they not yet found their way to the heart, but only reached the understanding? Are we only convinced, but not converted? We need to try ourselves by the word, measure ourselves by it, not comparing ourselves with others, but keeping to the standard, trying ourselves by that. How is the message to go forth in its power unless those who profess the truth live up to their profession? How, unless upon them, can God let down his Holy Spirit in power to give edge to the truth spoken? Now while probation lingers, while the Spirit and the bride say, Come, let each one that thinks he has an interest in these things, take hold of the work anew. By God's grace such will overcome. The world, the flesh, and the devil, are our foes. If all we have and are, is on the altar, it will, by God's help, become easy work. But if only partially converted, the battle goes hard. It is up-hill business and we may fail at last. How disappointed will those be who think they love the truth, and cry Lord, Lord, when they come up to the time when they shall be spewed out of his mouth. Let it not be said of us, Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting; but may we be enabled to say, “This is our God, we have waited for him, and he will save us.” CONSIDERABLE has already been said on this subject; but we think it well to put on permanent record the following additional particulars concerning the unusual circumstances attending that conflagration, from one who has visited the spot and writes from his own observation. J. A. Richards, in a letter dated at Little Prairie, Wis., to the Milwaukee Sentinel, says:— When the cry of anguish came from Northern Wisconsin, it reached our hearts, and nobly did the people respond to the call for aid. We organized a Relief Committee, and in three days—among farmers—we had $380 in money, and six boxes of bedding and clothing ready to go forward. The ladies in the meantime were active. They brought their sewing machines and goods to the Temperance Hall, and made up $60 worth of new clothing. Being appointed a committee to take charge of these supplies and distribute them to the sufferers, I proceeded to the burned district. At Green Bay I found the Relief Committee hard at work. At Marinette I found many sufferers severely burned, but doing well under the skillful treatment of Drs. Jones and Brunschweiler, surgeons in charge, who kindly favored me in my work and with information, for which they will please accept my thanks. I left at this hospital $80 in money with the sufferers, which was received with hearts too full for utterance. They were much in need of bandages and hospital supplies. VISIT TO PESHTIGO AND THE SUGAR BUSH.
O God! what a scene met my gaze on every side. Here came the crisis of the storm; here the fiery elements, controlled by a tornado and a whirlwind, made war on human hopes, hearts, and life. The half has not been told, nor ever can be. The phenomena and results of this storm were mysteriously strange. In some places the forest trees lay in every imaginable position, while in others they were carried into windrows. They were mere sticks in the hands of a great power, slashing and whipping the earth, and then made fuel for the work of death. The fields, woods, barns, houses, and even the “air,” were on fire, while large balls of fire were revolving and bursting in every direction, igniting everything they came in contact with; and the whole of this devouring element was driven before a tornado at the rate of a mile a minute. There can be little doubt that the air, strongly charged with electricity, helped on the work of destruction and death. Mr. Kirby says he saw large balls of fire in the air, and when they came in contact with anything, they would bound thirty or forty rods away. Others testify that they saw large clouds of fire burst into fragments, and in some instances great tongues of fire like lightning would issue from these dark clouds and light upon the buildings. Pennies were melted in the pockets of persons who were but little burned. A small bell upon an engine, and a new stove, both standing from twenty to forty feet from any building, were melted. Near Mr. Hill’s farm, in the Upper Bush, is an ox half burned up, while two rods from him was another, dead, but not even scorched. The barn of Mr. Hill was burned, full of hay and grain, also a fence ten feet off, yet a double wagon which stood between the fence and barn was not scorched, or even the appearance of fire upon it. This phenomenon is true everywhere. Wherever the force of the storm swept along, it burned up and melted everything in its way. There was no escape. There is no wonder that so many burned, but that one is left to tell the fearful tale of that awful night of anguish, fire, and death. Fourteen persons were burned but a few rods from Mr. Hill’s house, and some thirty horses, thirty-five sheep, twenty hogs, and several head of cattle. In the Lower Bush they found eighty persons dead on six acres, and one hundred within two miles in the Upper Bush. The loss of life is not less than five hundred in the Bush, and from three to five hundred at Peshtigo. Many thought the “great day of His wrath” had come. And why should they not? If persons who visit the ruins since the fire are forced to think that God hid his face in wrath and sent forth his thunderbolts of destruction; nay, that he gave the very fiends of hell the right and power to shake the place and burn it up, what must have been the feelings of those who passed through the fiery ordeal? The most of those that can are returning to their farms. But they need aid at Peshtigo and in the Bush. Although three weeks had passed since the fire, yet they had no stoves, no axes, no bedding, no blankets, no provisions (except as dealt out in rations), and but very poor clothing (old.) But with ample supplies that have been given, and are still coming in from millions of noble hearts, their wants will no doubt soon be supplied. “They also Serve who only Stand and Wait.”
By M. W. Howard
BRETHREN, no time of seeming inactivity is laid upon you by God without any just reason. It is God calling upon you to do his business by ripening in quiet all your powers for some higher sphere of activity which is about to be opened to you. The time is coming when you shall be called again to the front of the battle. Let that solemn thought of dread, yet kindling expectancy, fill the cup of your life with the inner work of self-development which will make you ready and prepared when your name is called. The eighteen years at Nazareth, what was their result? A few years of action, but of action concentrated, intense, infinite; not one word, not one deed, which did not tell upon the universe forever.—Stopford A. Brooke. When I read the above paragraph, it seemed to speak to me such words of comfort and cheer that I fain would not only transcribe it upon the tablet of my heart, but speed it onward to perform the same sweet mission for other hearts. I am myself undergoing a season of “seeming inactivity;” occasioning, at times, sorrowful self-reproachings, which end only in these reproaches and an indistinct glimmering of a bright emerging; hoping, ever, that future usefulness shall demonstrate that it was indeed a ripening in quiet, of powers for some other sphere of higher activity ere long to be opened. There has, at times, a solemn thought of dread rested upon me, not so much in “kindling expectancy,” as in a suppressed fear, that my “name should not be called again.” And yet I am conscious of an endeavor to have the “inner work of self-development go on, which shall make me ready and prepared” should that time ever come. And I hope and believe that when the way opens I am ready “to step to the front of the battle.” Till which time I rest upon the assured consciousness that, “They also work, who only stand and wait.” Christian Fellowship and Self-Rule
It never was meant that Christians should be solitary. It never was meant that they should feed themselves. It was meant that they should thrive in their combined and associated capacities.—Beecher. Who was I that I should venture to rule others when conscience told me I had so little rule over myself? The United States in the Light of Prophecy.
By Uriah Smith
The imposing miracles wrought before the people having riveted upon them the chains of a fatal deception, leading them to suppose they have witnessed the great power of God, and must therefore be doing him service, when they have only been dazed with a mighty display of Satanic wonders, and are led captive by the devil at his will, they are prepared to do the further bidding of the two-horned beast, which is to make an image to the beast, which had the wound by a sword and did live. Once more we remind the reader of the impregnable strength of the argument already presented in previous chapters, fixing the application of this symbol to these United States. This is an established proposition, and needs no further support. An exposition of the remainder of the prophecy will therefore consist chiefly of an effort to determine what acts are to be performed by this government, and a search for indications, if any exist, that they are about to be accomplished. If we shall find evidences springing up on all sides, that this government is moving as rapidly as possible in the very direction marked out by the prophet, though these are not necessary to establish the application of the symbol to this government, they will serve to stifle the last excuse of skepticism, and become to the believer an impressive evidence of our proximity to the end; for the acts ascribed to this symbol are but few; and while yet in mid career, he is engulfed in the lake of fire of the last great day. We may, however, notice in passing, another evidence that the government symbolized by the two-horned beast is certainly a republic. This is proved by the language used respecting the formation of the image. It does not read that this power, as an act of imperial or kingly authority, makes an image to the beast; but it says to them that dwell on the earth, that is, the people occupying the territory where it arises, that they should make an image to the beast. Appeal is made to the people, showing conclusively that the power is in their hands. But just as surely as the government symbolized is a republic, so surely is it none other than the United States of America. We have seen that the wonder-working Satanic agencies, which are to perform the foretold miracles, and prepare the people for the next step in the prophecy, the formation of the image, are already in the field, and have even now wrought out a work of vast proportions in our country; and we now hasten forward to the very important inquiry, What will constitute the image? and what steps are necessary to its formation? The people are to be called upon to make an image to the beast, which expression doubtless involves the idea of some deferential action toward, or concessions to, that power; and the image, when made, is an image, likeness, or representation of the beast. Verse 15. The beast, from which the image is modeled, is the one which had a wound by a sword and did live, or the papacy. From this point is seen the collusion of the two-horned beast with the leopard or papal beast. He does great wonders in the sight of that beast; he causes men to worship that beast; he leads them to make an image to that beast; and he causes all to receive a mark, which is the mark of that beast. These palpable evidences of co-operation with the papal power, led Eld. J. Litch, about 1842, to write, concerning the two-horned beast thus: “I think it is a power yet to be developed or made manifest, as an accomplice of the papacy in subjecting the world.” To understand what would be an image of the papacy, we must first form a definite idea of what constitutes the papacy itself. Papal supremacy dates from the time when the decree of Justinian, constituting the pope the head of the church and the corrector of heretics, was carried into effect, in 538. The papacy, then, was a church clothed with civil power, an ecclesiastical body, having authority to punish all dissenters with confiscation, imprisonment, torture, and death. What would be an image of the papacy? Another ecclesiastical establishment clothed with similar power. How could such an image be formed in this country? Let the Protestant churches in our land be clothed with power to define and punish heresy, to enforce their dogmas under the pains and penalties of the civil law, and should we not have an exact representation of the papacy during the days of its supremacy? It may be objected that whereas the papal church was comparatively a unit, and hence could act in harmony in all its departments in enforcing its dogmas, the Protestant church is so divided as to be unable to agree in regard to what doctrines shall be made imperative on the people. We answer, There are certain points which they hold in common, and which are sufficient to form a basis of co-operation. Chief among these may be mentioned the doctrine of the conscious state of the dead and the immortality of the soul, which is both the foundation and superstructure of spiritualism, and also the doctrine that the first day of the week is the Christian Sabbath. It may be objected again that this view makes one of the horns, the Protestant church, finally constitute the image of the beast. If the reader supposes that the Protestant church constitutes one of the horns of the two-horned beast, we reply that this is a conception of his own. No such idea is here taught. And we mention this objection only because it has been actually urged as a legitimate consequence of the positions here taken. And then the question is asked, If the Protestant church constitutes one horn, may not the Catholic church constitute the other? Under the shadow of that hypothetical “if,” perhaps it might. But neither the one nor the other performs such an office. In chapter VI of this series of articles, it was stated that the two great principles of Republicanism and Protestantism were the proper objects to be symbolized by these two lamb-like horns. But there is the plainest distinction between Protestantism as an embodiment of the great principle of religious liberty, and the different religious bodies that have grown up under its fostering influence; just as plain as there is between Republicanism, or civil liberty, and the individual who lives in the enjoyment of such liberty. The supposition, therefore, that the Protestant church is to furnish the material for the image, involves no violation of the symbolic harmony of this prophecy. Let us look a moment at the fitness of the material. We are not unmindful of the noble service the Protestant churches have rendered to the world, to humanity, and to religion, by introducing and defending, so far as they have, the great principles of Protestantism. But they have made a fatal mistake in stereotyping their doctrines into creeds, and thus taking the first steps backward toward the spiritual tyranny of Rome. Thus the good promise they gave of a free religion, and an unfettered conscience is already broken. For, if the right of private judgment is allowed by the Protestant church, why are men condemned and expelled from that church for no other crime than honestly attempting to obey the word of God, in some particulars not in accordance with her creed? This is the beginning of apostasy. Read Chas. Beecher’s work, “The Bible a Sufficient Creed.” “Is not the Protestant church,” he asks, “apostate?” Is not the apostasy which we have reason to fear, “already formed?” But apostasy in principle always leads to corruption in practice. And so Paul, in 2 Tim. 3: 1–5, sets forth the condition of the professed church of Christ in the last days. A rank growth of twenty heinous sins, with no redeeming virtues, shows that the fruits of the Spirit will be choked and rooted out by the works of the flesh. We can look nowhere else for this picture of Paul’s to be fulfilled except to the Protestant church; for the class of which he speaks maintain a form of godliness, or the outward services of a true Christian worship. And is not the church of our day beginning to manifest to an alarming degree the very characteristics which the apostle has specified? Fifteen clergymen of the city of Rochester, N. Y., on Sunday, Feb. 5, 1871, distributed a circular, entitled “A Testimony,” to fifteen congregations of that city. To this circular the Rochester Democrat of Feb. 7, made reference as follows:— “The ‘Testimony’ sets out by stating that the foregoing pastors are constrained to bear witness to what they ‘conceive to be a fact of our time: viz., That the prevailing standard of piety, among the professed people of God, is alarmingly low; that a tide of worldliness is setting in upon us, indicating the rapid approach of an era, such as is foretold by Paul in his second letter to Timothy, in the words, “In the last days perilous times shall come.”’ These conclusions are reached, not by comparisons with former times, but by applying the tests found in the Scriptures. They instance as proof, ‘the spirit of lawlessness which prevails.’ The circular then explains how this lawlessness (religious) is shown. Men have the name of religion, but they obey none of its injunctions. There is also a growing disposition to practice, in religious circles, what is agreeable to the natural inclinations, rather than the duties prescribed by the word of God. The tendency to adopt worldly amusements, by professed Christians, is further stated in evidence.” This is testimony to the point. When men “have the name of religion but obey none of its injunctions,” they certainly may be said to have a form of godliness, but to deny the power; and when they “practice in religious circles what is agreeable to the natural inclinations, rather than the duties prescribed by the word of God,” they may be truthfully said to be “lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God.” And Rochester is not an exception in this respect. It is so all over the land, as the candid everywhere, by a sad array of facts, are compelled to admit. That the majority of the Christians in our land are still to be found in connection with these churches, is undoubtedly true. But a change in this respect is also approaching. For Paul exhorts all true Christians, in his words to Timothy above referred to, to turn away from those who have a form of godliness, but deny the power thereof; and those who desire to live pure and holy lives, who mourn over the desolations of their Zion, and sigh for the abominations done in the land, will certainly heed this injunction of the apostle. There is another prophecy which also shows that when the spirit of worldliness and apostasy has so far taken possession of the professed churches of Christ, as to place them beyond the reach of reform, God’s true children are every one to be called out, that they become not partakers of their sins, and so receive not of their plagues. Rev. 18: 4. From the course which church-members are everywhere pursuing, it is plain to be seen in what direction the Protestant churches are drifting; and from the declarations of God’s word it is evident that all whose hearts are touched by God’s grace and molded by his love, will soon come out from a connection in which, while they can do no good to others they will receive only evil to themselves. And now we ask the reader to consider seriously for a moment what the state of the religious world will be when this change shall have taken place. We shall then have an array of proud and popular churches from whose communion all the good have departed, from whom the Holy Spirit is withdrawn, and who are in a state of hopeless departure from God. God is no respecter of persons nor of churches; and if the Protestant churches apostatize from him, will they not be just as efficient agents in the hand of the enemy, as ever pagans or papists have been? Will they not then be ready for any desperate measure of bigotry and oppression in which he may wish to enlist them? After the Jewish church had finally rejected Christ, how soon they were ready to imbrue their hands in the blood of his crucifixion. And is it not the testimony of all history, that just in proportion as any popular and extensive ecclesiastical organization loses the Spirit and power of God, it clamors for the support of the civil arm? Let, now, an ecclesiastical organization be formed by these churches; let the government legalize such organization, and give it power (a power which it will not have till the government does grant it) to enforce upon the people the dogmas which the different denominations can all adopt as the basis of union, and what do we have? Just what the prophecy represents: an image to the papal beast, endowed with life by the two-horned beast, to speak and act with power. And are there any indications of such a movement? The preliminary question, that of the grand union of all the churches, is now profoundly agitating the religious world. In May 1869, S. M. Manning D. D., in a sermon in Broadway Tabernacle, New York, spoke of the recent efforts to unite all the churches in the land into co-operation on the common points of their faith, as a “prominent and noteworthy sign of the times.” Dr. Lyman Beecher is quoted by Lorenzo Dow, as saying: “There is a state of society to be formed by an extended combination of institutions, religious civil and literary, which never exists without the co-operation of an educated ministry.” Chas. Beecher in his sermon at the dedication of the Second Presbyterian church, Ft. Wayne, Ind., Feb. 22. 1846, said:— “Thus are the ministry of the evangelical Protestant denominations, not only formed all the way up under a tremendous pressure of merely human fear, but they live and move and breathe, in a state of things radically corrupt, and appealing every hour to every baser element of their nature to hush up the truth and bow the knee to the power of apostasy. Was not this the way things went with Rome? Are we not living her life over again? And are we not to see just ahead? Another general council! A world’s convention! Evangelical Alliance and Universal Creed!” The Banner of Light of July 30, 1864, said:— “A system will be unfolded sooner or later that will embrace in its folds Church and State; for the object of the two should be one and the same. The time is rapidly approaching when the world will be startled by a voice, that shall say to every form of oppression and wrong, ‘Thus far shalt thou go and no farther.’ Old things are rapidly passing away in the religious and social, as well as in the political world. Behold all things must be formed anew.” “The Church Advocate, in March 1870, speaking of the formation of an “Independent American Catholic Church,” a movement now agitated in this country, said:— “There is evidently some secret power at work which may be preparing the world for great events in the near future.” A Mr. Havens, in a speech delivered in New York, a few years ago, said:— “For my own part I wait to see the day when a Luther shall spring up in this country who shall found a great American Catholic church, instead of a great Roman Catholic church; and who shall teach men that they can be good Catholics without professing allegiance to a pontiff on the other side of the Atlantic.” There is every indication that at no distant day such a church will be seen, not indeed, raised up through the instrumentality of a Luther, but rather through the operation of the same spirit that inspired a Fernando Nunez or a Torquemada. Light and Heat.
By Roswell F. Cottrell
IN the rays of the sun, light and heat are combined. The rays of light, falling upon the earth, are reflected back toward their source, and by the friction of falling and returning rays, heat, it is supposed, is produced. Whether this is the true theory or not, all know, from experience, that light and heat are combined in the rays of the natural sun. So it should be in religion. Knowledge is light and zeal is heat. The rays of divine truth from the Sun of Righteousness should warm our hearts with a corresponding zeal. We should not be like dark bodies which absorb the rays and reflect none. A true theory is essential; but if the truth be held in unrighteousness, if it is not responded to in our hearts and reflected in our lives, it is of no value to us. A man may be frozen, and have a tendency to freeze all that he touches, with the best theory in the world. Like the polar regions, turned away from the sun, and receiving his rays obliquely, such a one does not return the rays directly, but glances them off in another direction, and remains an iceberg still. On the other hand, there may be a “zeal of God, but not according to knowledge.” One may have an ardent zeal, yet, lacking knowledge, walk in the dark. This is dangerous; for the faster one rushes on in the dark, the greater his peril. And as warmth alone cannot develop healthy plants, but only pale and feeble ones, so zeal, unenlightened by divine truth, cannot develop a sound and healthy Christian. Such a one must be enlightened gradually; for he cannot bear the full light of revealed truth at once, more than a plant that has been reared in a cellar can at once endure the blazing light of the noon-day sun. Where light and heat, truth and zeal, are combined, the flame is steady and constant. But unenlightened zeal blazes for a moment, and the next moment it is expired, like a fire made of fine shavings. During the season of the year of least active worldly business, these fires will be seen blazing up in almost every direction; but the busy season returns, and these lights have gone out. Yet men love darkness and reject the light. One minister declares he would not go the smallest distance to hear on the prophecies of the5 word of God—the precious promises of the God of Heaven. Another would welcome any one to preach in his neighborhood who is laboring for the salvation of souls; as though enlightening men with the word of God and teaching the way of truth and duty had no tendency in that direction. Such prefer to walk in darkness. They talk of being sanctified and saved “through and through;” and while they speak of this, their voices swell, their forms are raised to the highest altitude, their chests expand; all giving evidence that they are filled and inflated with spiritual pride well-nigh to bursting. The language of inspiration to these is as follows: “Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks: walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow.” Isa. 50: 11. Brethren, let us cherish the light; let us love the precious truth of God. And let us walk in the light—obey the truth—and thus manifest a zeal according to knowledge. A true theory without a commensurate zeal will freeze you to death; while a blind zeal will lead you into the ditch. Let us have knowledge and zeal, light and truth, combined. If we are the most enlightened, we should be the most zealous people in the world; and our zeal should burn with constancy; not like the flickering light of the expiring lamps of the foolish virgins in the parable. R. F. COTTRELL.