Earlier text: General ArticlesTHE EXCELLENCY OF THE DIVINE LAW.
By H. H. Dobney
"The law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good." Rom. 7:12. By the first clause of the text just quoted the apostle means that the law as a whole is agreeable to the character of God, and calculated to promote holiness. When he goes on to speak of "the commandment," he seems to refer to the law taken in its various parts separately; each specific requirement is "holy, and just, and good," with perhaps a special reference to that one which he had been particularly alluding to, "Thou shalt not covet," and which might serve as a key to the whole, by showing that they extend to the heart. "The commandment," then "is holy"—pure, free from all defect; "just"—agreeable to justice, right in the very nature of the thing; "good"—in the object and end it is designed and calculated to accomplish, benevolent, adapted to secure happiness. We might indeed well conclude, even prior to examination, that a law given by God would necessarily be characterized by highest excellence. If we did not know what the law itself was, if the bare fact alone were announced to us, that God had authoritatively published a law which was to regulate the conduct and feelings of his creatures, both towards himself and in all their intercourse with each other, we nevertheless might, antecedently to all knowledge of its nature, positively conclude that the stamp of perfection must be indelibly impressed upon it. For how could it be supposed credible, coming from an infallibly wise and good Being, that there should be either deficiency or excess,—that there should be an arbitrary exaction of more, or a weak toleration of less, than was exactly proper? To suppose God capable of issuing a law requiring either more or less than was exactly right, is to suppose him acting without wisdom and without goodness; in fact, it is to deny altogether the existence of these attributes which distinguish Deity,—perfect wisdom, perfect justice, perfect benevolence. We have, then, in the essential character of God, a guarantee that the law which issues from him shall be neither deficient nor superfluous; "his work is perfect." And then if he gives a perfect law, it must be right to enforce it; and there must be as much wisdom, and even goodness, in his guarding it when given, as there is of those qualities in his giving it at first; and consequently it is as right to punish the violation of law as it was right originally to enact law at all. But we will not rest the case on the presumed excellence of the law; we will examine it for ourselves; it invites the investigation of the thoughtful, and it deserves their admiration, for it is beautiful as the laws which God has stamped on nature, and by which he secures the order and harmony of the universe. But what do we mean by "The Law"? We will endeavor to answer the question, and in so doing shall perceive that— 1. The excellency of the law is seen in its very nature. Generally we mean by the law that which is commonly called "the moral law," presented to us in the shape of distinct commandments, ten in number; prescribing to each one of us concerning God in the first place, and then concerning our deportment to all our fellow-creatures. These are illustrated, and their extensive bearing shown, by many other precepts which are scattered through the Scriptures. But there is not a single injunction or prohibition (of a moral kind we mean, of course, not referring now to the ceremonial law given to the Israelites, which has another explanation) which is not referable to one or other of these commandments, and included in it. If, however, without any amplification, we wish to have the whole law in a closely condensed form, so that we may bring it under the eye in one view in all its entireness, we can do so. It lies in a small compass as summed up for us by its divine interpreter: "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself." Thus it consists of two parts. Let us examine it in both its branches, and see if it be not "holy, and just, and good":—613 As to the first part, is it not well to call on the creature to love, and reverence, and worship, and obey his all-wise and kind Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor, to whom he owes life and breath and all things, and on whom he entirely depends? Must it not be right to love perfect excellence and goodness, to submit to perfect wisdom, to manifest gratitude for kindness? Must it not be right to worship God? and, if so, right to worship him in the way which he may see fit to prescribe? And if all this be right, is it not of course right to require it? And if so, would it not therefore be wrong to dispense with it? Then this first part of the law cannot be excepted against. The second branch is drawn out for us into six particulars, the admirable propriety of which will be the more readily recognized if we consider ourselves the objects on whose behalf the law is made, rather than the subjects to whom it is given. In the first of these God very wisely and kindly confirms parental authority, and dictates to children as to their behavior towards those who gave them birth. They are to love and respect and obey them, kindly cherishing them in old age, if need require, tending them and soothing them to life's latest hour. All parents must approve this requirement; and if in any case the young were disposed to murmur at it, feeling it an irksome yoke, we should appeal from their present to their future selves, when they also shall sustain the parental character, and will be quite prepared to approve it. The second cannot require any comment: "Thou shalt not kill." Who does not feel that his life ought to be inviolate, and the life of those he loves? Who does not decide that if any man should invade his dwelling, and murder his wife, his parent, or his child, severe punishment ought to follow? See then with grateful admiration, how, by an express prohibition to all men, God has guarded your life and the precious lives of all who are dear to you. Similar is the third: "Thou shalt not commit adultery," including in the prohibition every kind and degree of impurity. But to whom shall we appeal? Assuredly not to the violators of this commandment in any form; not to those who would, at any cost, throw the reins upon the neck of their passions, and with base selfishness seek only their own gratification, no matter at what expense to others. From such we turn away, as utterly incapacitated to judge; or we appeal to them in the other characters they may sustain, and as to the relationship of life which they rejoice to own. Who does not wish, above his wish for life, that the sanctity of his own dwelling may ever be most sacredly preserved? Does not everyone who answers to the name of brother, husband, father, with a knit brow and a flushed cheek, and in a tone of deepest emotion, assert that his own beloved relatives ought, by every means possible to devise, to be most sacredly guarded from even the slightest harm? Would he not have them protected by the strongest sanctions law can give, shielded as by triple brass, from the faintest breath of the spoiler? How benevolent, then, the law which forbids, under penalty of God's displeasure, everyone from blighting the fair blossoms you so sensitively cherish. God himself puts a fence around your dwelling; and in a tone of command that will not be slighted with impunity, warns off every profane intruder, and forbids even the faintest wish to wrong you. Thus is he by this law the kind guardian of your domestic peace. Similar is the fourth: "Thou shalt not steal." Again consider yourself the object in whose favor the law is made, and you will recognize that hereby God sets a hedge about all you have; your possessions are to be your own entirely, and no one is to deprive you of the least portion, or to defraud you in any transaction. So with the fifth. All persons are forbidden to meddle with your fair fame; your character is to be as sacred as your life. God will not hold that individual guiltless who misrepresents you in any way. And knowing that all outward improprieties and positive wrongs begin in the heart, in the sixth he prohibits all persons from wishing to wrong you in the least degree, or to gratify themselves at your expense. Thus God decides how all persons shall behave to you, thus kindly does he guard you on every hand. In other parts of Scripture these requirements are explained to be positive in their real meaning, as well as negative, so that persons are not to be content with simply abstaining from doing you harm; they are to do you good as occasion may require; they are to embrace all opportunities of increasing your comfort and happiness, and are to love you as they love themselves. Thus extensively has God cared for your welfare; thus strict is the charge he has given to all men concerning you. Is not the law, then, holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good? And then is it not quite as excellent when you are the subject as when you are the object of it? when it is law to you concerning all your conduct towards others, as when it is law to others concerning you? 2. But observe its excellency in its tendency to make the observer of it happy. And it has this tendency in many ways. There would be in one who should perfectly keep the law a perfect satisfaction with himself. Conscience would never speak in an accusing tone, but always the language of approval. There would be a sense of God's approbation, which would fill the heart with joy. It will be admitted by every reflecting person, that happiness does not depend so much on external circumstances as upon the state of our own minds. We are dependent on ourselves rather than upon others. Take an ambitious, restless, dissatisfied man, and load him with riches, honors, authority; will he be happy? You unhesitatingly answer, No. But why not? Because, you reply, his own disposition will prevent. Take another,—a suspicious, jealous, irritable, and revengeful man,—place him among the peaceful and amiable; will he be happy? No, his wretched temper will be a perpetual preventive of enjoyment, and if he does not find sources of disquietude, he will make them. On the contrary, let a man of a cheerful, contented, grateful, and benevolent disposition, be brought into painful circumstances, and his situation, though trying, will not deprive him of peace and happiness. Or let a meek and gentle spirit, though sensitive, be exposed to unkindness; still though grieved, the mind is not robbed of its peace. We have a beautiful illustration in the psalmist; "Princes also did sit and speak against me, but thy servant did meditate in thy statutes." We can easily conceive that were an angel to become incarnate, and to dwell among us for a time, exposed to hardship, neglect, and insult, none of these things would destroy his peace. His well-regulated mind would prevent external things, mere accidents, from affecting his inner self. And so our happiness is not placed at the mercy of outward circumstances, over which we have no control; it is made to depend much more intimately upon ourselves, and the state of our own minds. "A good man shall be satisfied from himself;" "great peace have they that love thy law, and nothing shall offend them." The law of God is such as, if observed in its spirit as well as its letter, would make us happy in our conformity. It prohibits nothing that is not injurious; it requires nothing that is not advantageous. We know how pleasant to one's self are the feelings of kindness and benevolence. I can confidently appeal to the reader, whether he has not felt an exquisite glow of delight, when, on some happy occasion, his breast has been full of good-will to all around him. Oh, yes! if we know what it is to look abroad on creation with a kindly eye,—to be glad in the joy that was felt by others, and to wish happiness to the universe, embracing in our benevolence all ranks of creatures, we can bear witness to the fact that such feelings of expansive benevolence to others, when self was for a time lost sight of, have produced a gush of rapturous enjoyment which language is too poor to describe. Happiness, then, depends on the state of our own minds, and the feelings which are prevalent there. Now the law of God prescribes exactly that class of affections, and that only, which invariably and necessarily produces enjoyment in the existence and exercise of them—love. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself." And so "love is the fulfilling of the law." Allow the imagination to bring such a state of mind before you as your own; just try the experiment of imagining how you would feel if every selfish, unlovely emotion had become utterly extinct, leaving no trace behind, and pure love to all beings animated, your breast; the heart filled with holy love and reverence for God, so that you exulted in your relation to him, and delighted in all his will; love to God supremely, and to all his creatures subordinately,—why, your cup would be full to overflowing, and you would be ready to shout aloud for joy. Thus admirably is God's law adapted to secure the perfect happiness of everyone that observes it. Thanks be to God for such a law!—H. H. Dobney (Baptist Minister, England). TURKEY has entered upon a revival of education and religion; that is, a revival according to Moslem ideas. It commenced by the issuance of orders for closing all schools supported by foreigners which did not have special grants from the Sultan. Next, the movement was extended to European and American schools of all kinds, Moslem children being prohibited by law from receiving instruction from foreigners, while at the same time Turkish schools were opened in towns and villages, and the children were made to attend them by compulsory laws. Side by side with this educational movement there has been inaugurated a religious revival. The mosques have been repaired, renovated, and decorated, new places of worship have been opened, and the shrines of Moslem saints have been multiplied. The Turk is described as conducting this revival not in a fanatical spirit, but in a practical, business-like way, for the sake of consolidating his political power and reviving his influence in Asia. This action of Turkey, miscalled a revival of education, puts a period to her intellectual advancement. All that Turkey has learned of late years has been taught her in the schools founded and supported by foreigners—chiefly Americans. Turkish schools, outside of Constantinople, are merely names, nothing more. The one book of study for the children in these schools is the Koran. From this they learn to read, and its precepts are impressed on their minds continually; and among these precepts, and the one chiefly insisted upon, is not the declaration that there is but one God and Mohammed is his prophet, but that the one true religion is Islamism, and that to conquer the world by the sword and to convert all people to the true faith on pain of death, is the duty and privilege of every believer. It may be asserted that the revival of Turkish education and of the Moslem religion is unaccompanied by a spirit of fanaticism, but the assertion cannot be true. Education is made to depend upon the national religion, and the very genius of that religion is fanaticism. As well say that education in the tenets of Mormonism is unconnected with polygamy, or that training in the school of the Apache warrior does not teach murder and rapine. Such a revival augurs ill for the future of Turkey. Conquest of the infidel is an essential, ingrained part of a genuine Turkish education, and if carried to its logical sequence must result in an attempt on the part of Turkey to extend its power by the sword; an attempt which can result only in the utter destruction of the Ottoman Empire.—S. F. Chronicle. UN-CHILDLIKE CHILDREN.
By W. F. Hoskins
We reprint the following article from the Review and Herald, for which it was contributed, with a most hearty good-will. We hope it will be read by everybody who has children or the care of them, and that after it is read it will be remembered and needed. In localities where "Band of Hope" societies and similar gatherings are maintained, often a very prominent part of the program consists in recitations and other exercises by very small children, especially little girls. I have frequently seen little girls six or eight years of age, and even younger, called up to declaim or sing before large audiences. These jewels of the home thus exposed to challenge the admiration of the public, are by no means unconscious that all eyes are fixed upon them, and, young though they be, they are not too young to flush with pleasure at the applause which follows their effort. The doting parents and friends, highly gratified by this juvenile display, seem to overlook entirely the fact that great and lasting injury may, in this way, be done the little ones. Can it be hoped that the seeds of pride thus early sown in the young and impressible heart of the child, will bear no baneful fruit in after years? Will not the love of approbation, the praise-seeking spirit, thus engendered, sadly unfit the little one to meet and overcome the temptations of a world whose friendship "is enmity with God"? James 4:4. Nurtured under the glare of such publicity as can but crush out true modesty, will the child develop a character adorned with the "meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price"? 1 Pet. 3:4. These are questions that mothers should consider well before they permit their little daughters to barter away that which is most beautiful in woman, for the mere gratification of their love of applause. Indeed, we need not look far into the future to see the effect of this kind of training; it manifests itself very quickly. The artless grace of childhood that was at first so pleasing, so beautiful, is soon exchanged for a boldness that ill becomes one of such tender years. After the little girl has been induced to come before the public once or twice, coaxing is no longer necessary; praise is sweet. It is surprising how eagerly the children will listen for their names to be read on the program for the next meeting. This being true, it is not surprising that the results mentioned should soon follow. Are children not thus robbed of their childhood, of the very characteristics that make them a type or an example of those who should enter the kingdom of Heaven? Matt. 18:2-4; Luke 18:16, 17. With such training, it will be little wonder that "the daughters of Zion are haughty." Isa. 3:16-24. That this work is connected with a good cause offers no excuse, since the child gains nothing that could not be imparted to it in other ways free from objection. God's holy day is like a little grassy meadow in the wilderness, where tired steps halt for refreshment and repose, and the traveler, tasting of calm, clear waters, recovers strength to start forth anew upon his journeyings.—Selected. Looking for the Silver Lining
By Dr. A. A. Willitts
GET in the habit of looking for the silver lining of the cloud, and, when you have found it, continue to look at it, rather than at the leaden gray in the middle. It will help you over many hard places.—Dr. A. A. Willitts. WHY WILL THEY SAY SO?
By Uriah Smith
THE New York correspondent of the Michigan Christian Advocate recently gave an account of the funeral of Bishop Harris, in the course of which he said:— "He is not dead. God's saints don't die; they only change their modes and forms of life." As soon as we read that, certain texts of Scripture came to our mind, and we jot them down for the benefit of those who may have given a hasty assent to the Advocate correspondent's assertion. "And all the days of Noah were nine hundred and fifty years; and he died." Gen. 9:29. Noah was certainly a saint, for we read that he was "a just man and perfect in his generations, and Noah walked with God" (Gen. 6:9); and that by his faith and obedience "he condemned the world." Heb. 11:7. Yet the inspired declaration is that "he died." "Then Abraham gave up the ghost, and died in a good old age, an old man, and full of years." Gen. 25:8. Of Moses, who was honored of God more than any other man that ever lived, and who was faithful in all that the Lord gave him to do (see Num. 12:6-8), the record says:— "So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord." Deut. 34:5. Again we read of another great and good man:— "And it came to pass after these things, that Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died, being an hundred and ten years old." Josh. 24:29. Samuel was one who was consecrated to the service of the Lord at a very early age. While yet a small child he was employed by the Lord to perform a very delicate task, and his whole life was marked by piety and strict devotion to duty. Of him the record is:— "And Samuel died; and all the Israelites were gathered together, and lamented him, and buried him in his house at Ramah." 1 Sam. 25:1. And again: "Now Samuel was dead, and all Israel had lamented him, and buried him in Ramah, even in his own city." 1 Sam. 28:3. Of the prophet Elisha the simple record is:— This list might be lengthened indefinitely, for of all the thousands of millions of people who have lived on this earth, there have been but two of whom it could not be said, "And he died." These are the words which close each of the biographies (with one exception) in the fifth chapter of Genesis. But we have selected only a few of whom it could not by any possibility be denied that they were saints. Now what shall we conclude? Shall we say that the correspondent of the Advocate is correct? If we do, then we contradict the record concerning all those holy men. This we dare not do; so we shall have to conclude that the writer whom we quoted is misinformed. But why should he be misinformed? And why should thousands of others coincide with him in his disagreement with Scripture? for there is not a doubt but that more than nine-tenths of the professed Christians of the world, including theological professors and ministers of the gospel, would never think of questioning his statement. We repeat, Why should they be misinformed? What excuse can they have for flatly contradicting the Bible? We confess that we cannot frame any excuse for them. They can read and the ability to do that is all that is required in order for one to know that both good and bad men do die. Nay, it is not even necessary to be able to read, to know this fact, for observation teaches it to everyone. "For he seeth that wise men die, likewise the fool and the brutish person perish, and leave their wealth to others." Ps. 49:10. And there is no man so powerful that he can redeem his brother "that he should still live forever, and not see corruption." Verses 6-9. Then why will they persist in using such language? If they were blatant infidels, denying the Bible, and even in their mad blindness denying their own existence, we should not be surprised. But it is astonishing that men who profess to love the Bible as the inspired word of God, should so squarely contradict it. The only explanation that we can give is that, not heeding the warning of the apostle, they have been spoiled "through philosophy and vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of the world, and not after Christ." Col. 2:8. Can anybody give a better explanation? A SUPERSTITIOUS PRACTICE.
By Editor
THE religious journals and teachers of the day have much to say about slavish obedience to forms, urging that the observance of forms is utterly opposed to the spirit of the gospel. Such language is heard especially whenever anything is said about keeping the Sabbath "according to the commandment," being "buried with Christ by baptism into death," and sometimes even in regard to the Lord's Supper. The keeping of the seventh day of the week, as the Lord enjoins, is said to be a Judaistic regard for mere form; and whenever it is shown that nothing but immersion is baptism, they will say that to put so much stress upon mere form savors of superstition. We notice, however, that those who thus deprecate form in connection with Sabbath observance and baptism, are very zealous sticklers for Sunday observance, and for sprinkling in place of baptism. The natural conclusion is that they have no objection to forms, so long as those forms are of their own choosing. Not only is this conclusion just, but it may also be shown that those who thus insist that the form is of no consequence, are indeed most superstitious in their observance of certain forms that are not commanded, and that they regard a mere ceremony much as the heathen regards a charm or an amulet. That this is true of the entire Catholic world, needs no proof. It is only necessary to remind the reader of the "relics" which it is claimed are possessed of such wonderful healing properties, and of the sign of the cross and the Ave Marias which alone are said to ward off evil spirits. An instance of this superstitious trust in a mere form recently came to our notice in Oakland. A laborer was caught in the shaft of a mill, and was fatally injured. He was carried to the hospital in an unconscious condition, from which he never recovered. A priest was summoned, who administered the "sacrament" of extreme unction to the unconscious man, who died soon after. If that "sacrament" had not been administered, all Catholics would have entertained at least a doubt as to that man's future; but having received it, the priest can assure them that he is sure of Heaven! Now no intelligent, candid person would dare affirm that "extreme unction" or anything else performed over a man who is already dead so far as consciousness is concerned, could have the least effect on his spiritual condition. Even Catholics themselves, when pressed, will admit that the performance of rites and ceremonies, or the repetition of prayers, is of no avail if unaccompanied by faith. And yet thousands of professed Protestants, who talk so glibly about slavish obedience to mere form, show themselves to be as superstitious as their Catholic brethren from whom they have borrowed those forms. In proof of this, we will cite only the so-called baptism of infants. As a matter of fact, infants are never baptized except in the Greek Church; they are only sprinkled; but if we did not know how easy it is to be inconsistent, we should wonder that people who argue against immersion, on the ground that the form is of no consequence, and that valid baptism is simply "the answer of a good conscience," should be so scrupulous in regard to a mere form where it is impossible that there should be any conscience at all. Two instances will suffice to show that infant baptism is simply the result of gross superstition that is not exceeded among Roman Catholics. In a recent note on "Children's Day," the editor of the Congregationalist said:— "The rite of infant baptism can be made most impressive. Last year a young man of more than twenty, witnessed this ordinance for the first time on Children's Day. As he watched the pastor take one dear little one after another in his arms to bless them, he said, with deep emotion, 'If my father and mother had done that when I was a baby, I might have been a different boy.'" If the intelligence indicated by that remark was a fair sample of the product of the brain of that "young man of more than twenty," we should say that he was even then a proper subject for the administration of "infant baptism." But we must remember that he simply echoed the sentiments of the church people about him, and that his remark is indorsed by the editor of the Congregationalist. Now we ask, What would have been the difference if that young man had been "baptized" when he was a baby? If that ceremony had been performed, and he had been a model youth, to what would the Congregationalist attribute his goodness? It could not be to any volition on his part, but simply to the magic charm of the few drops of water sprinkled upon him, or to the words uttered by the pastor. But we have another case in which the element of superstition is so prominent as to be laughable. In the Advance of September 22, A. L. Frisbie, D. D., has an account of a "Sunday with the Stonies," a tribe of Indians on a reservation near the line of the Canadian Pacific, who have been civilized by missionary effort. He tells of the crowds that flocked to church, of the good order, of the reverence during prayer, and of the enthusiasm with which they sang "Old Hundred," and continues: "A baby was presented for baptism after the benediction. Fortunately he was asleep, so that he could not express any disapprobation of the proceeding." And then in all seriousness he goes on to say that mothers and nurses might learn a lesson from the way in which this baby was "put up," because he was placed in a casket shaped to the tiny form, the whole wrapped and bound, and his limbs, body, and head were so snugly cased and held, that he "could not kick if he wanted to." If he had been awake, he could not have objected to the proceeding except by yelling. "Fortunately he was asleep," and so the beautiful ceremony was not marred. Will anybody tell us how much more solemnity or efficacy there was in that ceremony than in the incantations of the heathen Indian "Medicine Man"? If it is said that this was done in the name of Christ, then we reply that it was simply taking the name of Christ as a charm, and differed not a particle from the act of the seven sons of Sceva. See Acts 19:13, 14. We may add, also, that the mere calling of the name of the Lord Jesus over a person, will have no more effect if done by a Christian minister than if done by a Jewish exorcist. In the instance quoted from the Advance the climax of absurdity was reached. There was an infant without power to discern between its right hand and its left; added to this it was bound hand and foot, and then while it was asleep the minister surreptitiously sprinkled a few drops of water upon it, and, behold, it was a Christian baby! This fairly surpasses the method by which the Jesuit missionaries in California converted the Indians a century ago. It is said that the Jesuits would mount their horses, lasso an Indian, force him into the mission building, and "baptize" him, and thenceforth he was a child of the church. If sprinkling an unconscious infant is productive of any good, we cannot see what argument can be brought against the forcible "baptism"615 of adults. No one can fail to see that the element of faith is entirely excluded. But it is urged when the child is thus baptized, the parents pledge themselves to train it up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, and to bring it up in the full fellowship of the church. This is not true. The parents may indeed make the pledge, but it is not the so-called baptism that seals the pledge. If it had anything whatever to do with the pledge, then the parents themselves should receive the ceremony in token thereof. Would not the pledge be just as valid if the ceremony of sprinkling were not performed? Certainly; the sprinkling of the infant can by no means affect the parents; so we see still that the act is one of conformity to a superstition. To make this still more emphatic, we have only to cite the numerous cases that are related, where the child sought the company of the vicious as soon as it arrived at years of understanding, and at an early age left home and parents for a wild career, yet after many years he was converted, because he had been sprinkled in infancy. In such a case the same virtue is attributed to the so-called baptism that the savage attributes to the spell of the sorcerer. But again, it will be said that in such a case the prayers of the parents avail to bring the erring one into the fold, even though he be absent from them. Very good; we know that "the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much," and we are willing to accept that explanation of the cause of the young man's conversion; but that explanation nullifies the theory that the sprinkling in infancy was of any virtue. Would not the prayers of the parents be just as effectual without the mockery of "baptizing" an unconscious babe? The assumption on the part of the Pedobaptists who relate such cases, is that they would not be; and so again we see that some mysterious magic charm is attributed to the ceremony performed in infancy. We have before us an article from the Advance of July 7, which tells of a very godless man whose wife had died, leaving two very young babes, twins. Two neighboring children became interested in the twins, and desired to have them "baptized," but the father refused his consent. Finally, as he was about to go to the far West, he gave a grudging consent to have the ceremony performed, but said that it should not be done in a church, and that no clergyman should come into his house. The writer relates the brother's delight at the consent gained, and says:— "Hurrying home, the young churchman told his sister of his success, adding, 'And you and I must be sponsors.' The sister, though sharing his delight in the prospect of bringing the little ones into the fold, shrank from the responsibility of a god-parent where there seemed so little opportunity to fulfill the duties of the office. We can pray for them, was the brother's answer." Accordingly the ceremony was performed at the home of the brother and sister, and a few days later the babies were taken away, and were not heard of again until twenty years later, when the brother and sister learned that they were active church workers. The writer closes his narrative with the following moral:— "We who are god-parents may not always be able to use personal influence, or make direct appeal to those for whom we are to take care. But these means failing our honest effort, there remains one mighty resource: We can pray for them." Of course you can; and you could pray for them just as well if they had not been sprinkled. To say that this is not so is to say that the sprinkling acts as a charm. We have said that this anxiety for the "baptism" of infants, so that they may be sure to be saved, is superstition. To show that this is the correct term for it, we quote Webster's definition of superstition: "Extreme and unnecessary scruples in the observance of religious rites not commanded." Some may claim that their scruples for infant "baptism" are not extreme or unnecessary; but we hold that the observance, to any extent, of rites not commanded, is unnecessary, and that if stress is laid on them, as though they were necessary to salvation, then it is superstition. We believe that baptism is necessary, for the Lord has commanded it. We would not dare tell any individual that he could be saved without it; indeed, we should tell him that he could not, if, knowing the commands and having the opportunity, he should refuse. But while it becomes us to be baptized, thus to fulfill all righteousness, we remember that "with the heart man believeth unto righteousness;" that there can be no righteousness without belief, and that only "he that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved." We do not decry the observance of forms, if those forms have been commanded. There is no element of superstition in humble obedience to a divine command, no matter how trivial the required act may seem. But when there is no obedience, because there is no command; when, even if there is a command, the act is done by proxy; and when there cannot by any possibility be either belief or obedience, then we say that devotion to a form is gross superstition, and can result only in evil, for no superstition is harmless. W.