Earlier text: The Sabbath in the New TestamentTemperance.
By John B. Gough
Sympathy for the Drunkard.
I tell you there is not a village or a town in this country, that sustains and supports the liquor traffic, but is bound in honor to furnish places of refuge for every poor victim of the drink. My sympathies go out to these men. I do not believe in coddling them or making pets of them, but I believe in helping them to help themselves, and to remove, as fast as we can, temptation out of their way. One thing more. When the poor wrecks come to me by the score, I sometimes thank God I have no son. One Scotchman said: "I am a lost laddie." And so many of them are lost! I sometimes thank God I have no son to be lost; but if I had, I would rather take him to the vilest and dirtiest grog-shop that could be found, and keep him there for half an hour, than to take him into the most respectable social drinking circle in Saratoga. If I took my boy fresh from his pure home, fresh from the touch of his mother's knee, fresh from Sabbath-school exercises, into such a den as that, I would frighten him. He hears strange sounds; he does not like the odor of the place; he puts his hands to his ears. "Take me out of this, papa. What are these men doing? I don't like it. Oh! take me away." But in the social circle, where the mother smilingly offers the wine to her guests, and the minister, under whose preaching the boy has sat, gives assent to it by a smile, there he will take his first glass. So, if we wish to prevent this evil, we must assail the drinking customs of society that are made fashionable and respectable. The moderate drinker tells us we are very hard on him. I do not pretend to say that the moderate drinker intends to do this mischief. A lady said to me: "My son, eighteen years of age, came from his chamber one New Year's morning, and said: 'Happy New Year, mamma.' While seated at his breakfast, he said: 'Now, mamma, I am going out for the first time in my life to make New Year's calls, and I mean to make a business of it; good-morning;'" and he kissed her on both cheeks. She said she stood in the bay window, and watched him till he turned the corner, and then drew a long sigh of satisfaction. "My boy, sweet, pure, clean, lovely? I was proud of him. I thought of him all day." At night came a ring of the bell—a strange sort of ring—and instead of permitting the servant to go, she went herself, and there she beheld two young men holding up her drunken son. She said: "Bring him in." They laid him on the carpet. "And then," she said, "I sat down and lifted his head in my lap. I tried to comb his hair; it was all matted and damp; his lips, that were so pure and sweet, were cracked and dry, and his breath, that was like the odor of newly-gathered violets, was a horrible stench. My boy! The eyes half-closed, just showing the white; the horrible breath pouring forth in pestiferous effluvia. My boy! His face seemed to be so changed. It was so smooth when he went out, but now it looks coarse. Mr. Gough," she said, "if that had been the work of my boy's enemy it would have been a comfort to look upon him and feel that it was the work of my boy's bitterest foe; but if that is the work of my boy's friend, God have mercy on me! for I have but very little hope for the future." And she said that was not the last time, by many, that he came home to her drunk. Who gave him his first glass?—John B. Gough, in Watch Tower. Missionary Work in California.
By M. C. Israel
WE are glad to report that the work in this State is progressing, and as we labor on, the providence of God is opening the way for more extended labor. God is blessing the efforts of his servants in presenting the truth, and some souls are turning their feet to walk in his precepts, and many that have been following him at a distance are seeking a closer walk with God. But our ministers are too few to perform the work that is opening up before us. There never has been as favorable a time to reach the mass of the people with the truth on the Sabbath question as the present, while the Sunday law is being agitated, and now is the time to place a few copies of the SIGNS and a tract on the Sabbath into the hands of every business man in the State. Our large cities need to be thoroughly canvassed to find out who will read, and the SIGNS be sent to them for at least four weeks by some of our missionary societies; then letters be written or the parties be visited, to ascertain who are willing to search for truth and see that they are supplied with such reading matter as will lead them to the study of the Scriptures to see if these things are so. Great care should be taken in visiting, and writing letters that no arguments be entered into; but use the publications and let them explain the points of truth. These are written with great care, and will do it more plainly than it can be done in a letter or a few minutes' conversation. Our last quarterly meeting was one of interest, at which matters pertaining to the work were discussed and resolutions passed in regard to the future action of our T. and M. workers, which we should begin at once to carry into effect. Time is short, and "it is high time to awake out of sleep" and buckle on the armor, get imbued with the Spirit of the Master, and put forth efforts to find those who will heed the call to prepare for the coming of the Lord, and to warn all, that they may be without excuse in the swiftly-approaching Judgment. The churches at Healdsburg and Santa Rosa have adopted the plan of paying a sum equal to one-third of their tithe to keep up a fund to supply periodicals and publications for the work. The club of SIGNS at Healdsburg was increased from sixteen to forty. That at Santa Rosa, from twenty-six to seventy-five, and at each of these places steps are being taken to make a forward move in the missionary work. The T. and M. Societies at Oakland and San Francisco are making a greater effort to spread the truth than ever before. We hope to hear that this is the case in all the districts not heard from. At our next quarterly meeting we hope to have a prompt report from every district, that every member in the State will send in a report of work done for the Master, and that we may continue faithful to the end, and receive the "well done." Santa Rosa, February 11. M. C. ISRAEL. Beaverton Church Quarterly Meeting.
By R. D. Benham
At our quarterly meeting held in Beaverton, Oregon, the first Sabbath and Sunday in January, there was a general attendance of the members, and a good interest manifested by all, as was shown in the patience and earnestness with which they passed through the business meetings. At our Sabbath meeting, when the roll was called, the sweet Spirit of God seemed to enter, and hearts that were always warm in the good work, responded with cheerful and comforting words; and some that had grown cold and worldly, again melted and returned to the allegiance of their Lord; while nearly all joined in the ordinances of his house. Those absent were mostly heard from by letter or otherwise. A few absented themselves without excuse or report, for which course in any, we felt deeply sorry. This was the second time for over a year that we have had the privilege of meeting with this church, and it seemed good to us. Although their number is diminished by removals, they came flocking back like a family to their home altar, to seek their Father's favor anew, together. It was indeed cheering to meet those who have been long in this good cause, as well as those who have more recently come into the truth. Here we first met Eld. A. Snashall, of Portland, Oregon, who has but lately embraced the Third Angel's Message, by reading of papers and tracts sent him by our T. and M. workers. Elder S. was educated in the English Church, but his honesty of purpose to live up to the best light given him, has led him toward us step by step, at last, passing through some of the older and most popular churches, he has emerged from the ranks of the First-day Adventists, into the glorious liberty of the holy law of God. He is an earnest and an able speaker, and we hope he will prove an able defender of God's broken law, and an efficient expounder of present truth. He and his wife have fully identified themselves with the body, and joined the Beaverton church. He spake to very attentive congregations three times. We were all cheered by the presence of Bro. J. Hall, his wife, and son, who joined the church last quarter, brought into the truth by missionary work. At this meeting his aged mother took her stand with us. Thus three more were added to the church. We parted with renewed determination to meet in the kingdom of our Father. On returning home, we learned of another minister, of the Christian denomination, who has just taken his stand on the truth, through tracts and papers sent out by the T. and M. laborers. Thus may the Lord speed on the good work in the North Pacific Conference. R. D. BENHAM. Salem, Oregon, Jan. 22, 1882. How long will the people not only tolerate, but actually legalize these dens of bestiality in their very midst, to ruin their sons and fathers, and demoralize and degrade humanity? How long will they license the cause, then shudder and groan and weep and whine over the sad and deplorable results? License schools of vice, pauperism, madness, and crime, and then build pauper-houses, mad-houses, prison-houses, and scaffolds for their motley graduates! Pay the taxes imposed in consequence, and then again and again license the same accursed traffic which renders these expensive poor-houses, mad-houses, asylums, and prisons necessary! Legalize the manufacture of rowdies, tramps, mendicants, marauders, and murderers, then arrest, try, convict, imprison, or hang the wretched victims! Fire the magazine, then “regulate,” “restrain,” and “punish” the explosion! Beautiful consistency! Profound statesmanship this!—The Lever. "Don't be Hard upon Him."
In a most interesting address delivered by the Rev. Canon Wilberforce recently, at Frome, England, he said: "Not long ago there was in my own parish one of the bravest, purest, and brightest of the wives of workingmen I have ever seen. All through her married life she had been praying for, bearing with, and forgiving the man who at the altar had sworn to love and cherish her. A short time ago he set his seal upon years of cruelty by raising his foot and kicking her savagely, and three hours after she had gone 'where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.' The last words she spoke were whispered into my own ear—Don't be hard upon him when I am gone. He is so kind when he doesn't drink. They laid the little form of her prematurely-born infant by her side, and four other little ones followed to the grave one more victim of the arch-fiend rum." When Has a Man Had Enough Liquor?
By Rescue
THERE is a great variety of opinion as to when a man has had enough liquor; but according to the Pacific Censor, the liquor seller always draws the line punctually and unerringly at the point where his money has just given out, and he has no credit. The Doctor's Prescription.
By Margaret E. Winslow
JAMES MORDAUNT was one of those unfortunate young men born with a natural appetite for drink, which the circumstances of his life tended to develop rather than diminish. He early entered the navy where his great natural ability gave promise of distinction and rapid advancement, while at the same time his constant yielding to his fatal propensity threatened to destroy all his fair prospects. But salvation came, or seemed to come, in the form of a temperance society, started by the efforts of the master of his ship, and encouraged by Commodore F—, the best and most thoroughly Christian man our United States navy has ever known. James became a thorough temperance man, and in connection with his friend, the master, did great good among the seamen of the Mississippi squadron. The war was over, and Lieutenant Mordaunt, who had well earned his promotion, had been married some years when he was stationed at the Navy Yard at B—, and here, as it happened, he was again thrown in with his old friend, the master. Having two young children, he preferred to reside "in his own hired house," in a pleasant part of the city, attending to his naval duties during the day, and returning to his cheery little home and bright young wife at night. A pleasant home it was, as his bachelor friend, the master, a constant and welcome guest, thought. Mordaunt was a member of a Christian church, became very intimate with the chaplain of the yard, and soon was immersed in plans of usefulness for the seamen and employes among whom his lot was cast. Could a man have a brighter lot or a surer prospect of happiness? Yet there was a little cloud no bigger than a man's hand looming in the distance, destined to blot out the sunshine and bring in everlasting darkness and despair. And it was coming from a most unexpected quarter. Mordaunt had been suffering for some time with dyspepsia, and applied to a celebrated physician for relief. "A few spoonfuls of brandy after each meal is the best digester," said the doctor. "But I never take brandy: I am a Temperance man." "So am I; but common sense marks the bounds of everything. Don't be a fanatic, Mordaunt; all things have their uses, and medecine is the true use of brandy. There never was a pledge yet that was intended to exclude a physician's prescription. If you cannot trust my judgment," he added stiffly, "I can do no more for you. Good morning!" And so James Mordaunt yielded to the prestige of medical authority, and took after each meal three or four spoonfuls of the poison which he considered as forsworn forever. Certainly he felt better; a pleasant little exhilaration took the place of the gnawing sensation which had troubled him so long, and when it failed to produce that effect he increased the dose. Was it likely that he would stop there? Let those answer who with a strong natural inclination for liquor have for years refrained from its indulgence, and then suddenly tasted it again. "I am anxious about my husband," said Mrs. Mordaunt; "he has not been home for three nights, and has sent me no word. Could you inquire at the Navy Yard for me to-morrow morning?" "Has he ever stayed at the yard all night before?" said his friend, the master. "Yes, once or twice of late, but he always sent me word that he was detained, and generally came home to breakfast. Now I have not seen him since Wednesday morning. I can't think why he has not sent me word." It was Sunday morning. The master called upon the Navy Yard chaplain just as he was preparing for his ship-board service, with inquiries concerning his friend. "He is laid on board the receiving-ship, sick," said the chaplain. "Sick, and not send for his wife!" said the master. "I will go for her at once." "No, I think you had better not. The fact is, Mordaunt has been having a regular spree, and as he does not want his wife or anyone to know it, he is wearing out the effect on shipboard. The surgeon tells me this morning it's a pretty bad case of delirium; he has some fears of the poor fellows life." "What shall I tell his wife?" said the visitor. "I wouldn't tell her anything to-day. Step in to-morrow morning, and perhaps there will be better accounts. He knows no one now, and might feel badly to have her see him in this condition. It will be time enough to tell her when we must. It's a sad affair, and for the sake of religion, ought to be kept as quiet as possible." It was a long Sunday for the master to pass without relieving the anxiety of the waiting wife, but he did pass it, and on presenting himself at the Navy Yard in the morning was met by the intelligence that James Mordaunt was dead! Dead in raving delirium, with no farewell to loved ones, no thought of the terrible step he was taking, no consoling presence, no repentance, no prayer! I cannot depict the wife's agony; we may not follow the lost one to the closed bar of that Heaven into which no drunkard may enter; but we may call upon the misguided physician, by all that is sacred in earth or Heaven, to take to heart the lesson afforded by his prescription. The particulars were given to the writer by the master who urged her to use them in calling attention to the terrible responsibilities of physicians in prescribing brandy and whisky for every slight or chronic ailment. There must be something which will answer the purpose as well; and if the scientific skill of chemists and the practical experience of physicians cannot discover it, then better let men die in the way of God's appointment, than kill and send them to hell by the poison which destroys both body and soul. It will be little compensation to the lost soul to remember that life was blighted, hearts broken, and his eternity ruined, through a doctor's prescription.
—Margaret E. Winslow. LITTLE Bertie Blynn had just finished his dinner. He was in the cozy library, keeping still for a few minutes after eating, according to his mother's rule. She got it from the family doctor, and a good rule it is. He had in his hand two fine apples—a rich red, and a green. His father sat at a window reading a newspaper. Presently he heard the child say:— "Thank you, little master." Dropping his paper, he said, "I thought we were alone, Bertie. Who was here just now?" "Nobody, papa, only you and I." "Didn't you say just now, 'Thank you, little master?'" The child did not answer at first, but laughed a shy laugh. Soon he said:— "I'm afraid you'll laugh at me, if I tell you, papa." "Well, you have just laughed; and why mayn't I?" "But I mean you'll make fun of me." "No, I won't make fun of you; but perhaps I'll have fun with you. That will help us digest our roast beef." "I'll tell you about it, papa. I had eaten my red apple, and wanted to eat the green one too. Just then I remembered something I'd learned in school about eating, and I thought that one big apple was enough. My stomach will be glad if I don't give it the green one to grind. It seemed to me for a minute just as if it said to me, 'Thank you, little master;' but I know I said it myself." "Bertie, what is it that Miss McLaren has been teaching you about eating?" "She told us to be careful not to give our stomachs too much food to grind. If we do, she says, it will make bad blood, that will run up into our brains, and make them dull and stupid, so that we can't get our lessons well, and perhaps give us headaches, too. Miss McLaren says that sometimes, when she eats too much of something she likes very much, it seems almost as if her stomach moaned and complained; but when she denies herself, and don't eat too much, it seems as if it was thankful and glad." "What more did Miss McLaren tell you about this matter?" "She taught us a verse one day about keeping the soul on top. That wasn't just the word, but it's what it meant." "Weren't these the words, 'I keep my body under?'" "Oh, yes! that was it; but it means just the same. If I keep my body under, of course my soul is on top." "Of course it is, my boy. Keep your soul on top, and you'll belong to the grandest style of man that walks the earth." Bertie put on his coat and cap, and went away to school. His father took up the apple he had left behind on the table, and put it in his pocket. On his way home, late in the afternoon, he called at Miss McLaren's boarding-house. He gave her the apple, and told her all that Bertie had said. She could not eat that apple. She wrapped it in rose-colored tissue-paper, and laid it in the drawer where she kept her dainty laces and nicest things. She had worked hard in school that day, and was very tired. At night, when her head was resting on its pillow, the moon looked in through the window, and saw tears of joy dropping on it from a sweet face.—Well Spring. Only a word!
Yet it bore on its holy breath
A message that God had given
To kindly warn from the ways of death—
And a soul was led to Heaven. Only a word!
Spoken in scorn by lips that smiled,
But a haunting doubt's black shade
Was cast in the trusting heart of a child,
And a life-long darkness made. Only a word!
Yet there lay in its heart, enshrined
Like the germ in a tiny seed,
A thought, that fell in an earnest mind,
And grew to a noble deed. Only a word!
No more widely the ocean parts
Land from land with its ebb and flow,
Than one false word severed kindly hearts
That loved, in the long ago. Only a word!
The lowly whispered "amen" of a prayer;
But it flew, like a swift-winged dove,
From the stormy depths of a soul's despair,
To the Father's heart of love. Only a word!
O, choose it wisely, weigh it well;
Send it forth with love and faith;
If may be the message one word can tell
Will rescue a soul from death.
—Advance. Mr. Webster used to tell with great zest an incident in his professional life, to illustrate how past studies may prove of great service in an emergency. While practicing in New Hampshire, a blacksmith employed him to defend a contested will. The case was such a complicated one that he was obliged to order books from Boston at an expense of fifty dollars, in order to acquaint himself with and to settle the legal principles involved. He won the case, and as the sum involved was small, charged fifteen dollars for services, and was therefore largely out of pocket. Many years after, when passing through New York, he was consulted by Aaron Burr. "I have a very perplexing case," said Mr. Burr, "which I cannot disentangle. I know I am right, but see no way of proving it in court." Mr. Webster listened, and found the principles identical with his early case. He stated them in such a luminous way that Mr. Burr excitedly asked, " Have you been consulted before, Mr. Webster?" "No, sir, I never heard of the case till you mentioned it." "How is it possible that you could unravel such a case at sight, when I had given many hours of anxious study to it in vain?" Mr. Webster enjoyed his perplexity, but finally relieved him by a statement of the facts. A great sum was at stake, and Mr. Webster received a fee of one thousand dollars to balance his former loss. The moral of this incident is that whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well. Mr. Webster, when a young lawyer, acted on this maxim, and this laid the foundations of his greatness as a lawyer. Good Works of Christians
By Arnot
As CIPHERS added one by one in an endless row to the left hand of a unit are of no value, but on the right hand rapidly multiply its power, so, although good works are of no avail to make a man a Christian, yet a Christian's good works are both pleasing to God and profitable to men. -Frederick A. Tritle has been appointed Governor of Arizona. -When the troubles are settled in Ireland, notice will be promptly given. -New York capitalists are planning to erect a first-class American hotel in the city of Mexico. -At Helena, Ark., the river is above the high-water mark of 1867, and the levees are fast breaking. -General rains in California during the last week. The winter previous to this rain has been discouragingly dry. -Gen. Grant has "gone back" on Eads' ship railroad enterprise, which, it is to be hoped, will kill the gigantic begging scheme. -Governor St. John, of Kansas, has appointed Mrs. Cora M. Downs, of Wyandotte, one of the Regents of the State University. -The First Methodist Church at Racine, Wis., was burned on Sunday, February 4. The church cost $38,000 and the organ $3,000. -Decisive measures are being adopted at Cornell College to put a stop to hazing. All right-minded people hope for the success of the effort. -The Choctaw nation, in Indian Territory, have a law against excessive cruelty to animals, and the penalty for its violation is fifty lashes. -At St. Johns, N. B., the weight of snow crushed the roof of the car-sheds of the Inter-Colonial Railway. Nine cars were demolished. Loss $50,000. -The order of the Czar that only wood shall be burned in the palace is said to be owing to the fact that the nihilists have smuggled dynamite in with coal. -A large and important meeting of lawyers was held in Chicago, Saturday, January 21, to see what measures can be taken to prevent jury-packing and bribery. -Land title suits have been filed in Oakland, within one week's time, against more than 10,000 defendants. One man has sued 6,220 property holders for possession in Temescal. -A collision between a freight and an emigrant train near Dos Palmos, on the Southern Pacific Railroad, February 6, resulted in the destruction of thirty cars and two engines. No lives were lost. -By an explosion in a colliery in Rhondda, Wales, Feb. 10, houses were shaken two miles off. Two thousand workmen are thrown out of employment. The number of lives lost is not yet ascertained. -A note has been passing round that a compound of sulphate of zinc and digitalis is as "unfailing as fate" as a cure for small-pox. "Which the same" is a great humbug, to be avoided as all bugs should be. -Three hundred Jewish refugees from Russia recently sailed from London, to the United States. Thousands of Jews are expected to flee from Russia, and calls are made for all their co-religionists to aid them with means. -The murder of a man in a fight in a newspaper office in Washington is now supposed to be connected with the "star route cases." Those magnificent swindlers will never be brought to justice if any additional crimes will prevent. -A Spark from a locomotive on the Buffalo, New York, and Philadelphia Railroad, on the 12th inst., set fire to little pools of oil in the lowland near Olean, N. Y., which communicated with tanks containing over 100,000 barrels of oil, and in a few minutes the whole was in flames. -A terrific storm has prevailed along the coast at the mouth of Columbia River. At the latest intelligence the telegraph lines had been prostrate three days. The warehouse at Ilwaco was blown down, and the road between Ilwaco and the North Beach was blocked with fallen timber. The waves rolled over Tillamook Rock Light-house, 150 feet above the ocean level, until the lee side presented the appearance of a cataract. At Astoria the damage was confined to show-windows, etc. -A piano teacher in Philadelphia has for years studied the anatomy of the hand with a view to discover why it is so much more difficult to raise the third finger of the hand above the keys of the piano than the other fingers. He thinks if he cuts a cord attached to that finger, which is wanting in the others, the difficulty will be removed, and has induced a pupil to submit to the operation, which will shortly be performed.—Alta. If we were the pupil, we would respectfully suggest to the music teacher that he first try his experiment on his own hand. -The fastidious salad-maker who insists on having genuine imported olive oil will be horrified to learn that a large portion of that delectable article is manufactured from cotton-seed oil, exported to Europe from the Southern States. He will, however, be able to sympathize with the lover of genuine imported French wines when he finds that a large portion of them are made of glucose, potatoes, rotten apples, dried prunes, dates, figs, raisins, currants, red beets, and worst of all the flowers of the bassia tree, which, when properly dried, form in connection with water and sugar an excellent base for the manufacture of artificial wine. During November and December 250,000 bales of bassia blossoms were imported into France and converted into French wine, much of which swill is drunk by knowing Americans under the impression that it is the pure juice of the grape.—Chronicle. A CONTRAST OF TRUE AND FALSE THEORIES.
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By Uriah Smith
THE UNITED STATES IN PROPHECY.
THIS is a full exposition of a portion of prophecy which applies to our own Government, showing the position the United States holds in prophecy, and the part it has to act in the closing scenes of time. Which is now attracting such general attention, is thoroughly canvassed; and abundant testimony is given to prove that in a few years this will be the In this country. Facts and statistics are largely presented, showing in the most conclusive manner that this government is the one pointed out in the prophecy quoted. 200 pages. Bound, 40 cents. Paper covers, 20 cents. Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal.