Earlier text: STUMBLING-BLOCKS—FOUNDATION STONESLITTLE AND MUCH.
By Alice Hamilton Rich
ONE morning I was taking a few moments' leisure in that haven of rest familiarly called in the household "grandma's room," when I heard the rush of eager feet up the stairway, and the usual call, on return from school, "Where's mamma?" Opening the door, my little six-year-old came in, and I saw by her flushed face something unusual had occurred. She said, "Mamma, please come in the other room." I followed her into my own room, which I try to make as much an "inn of rest" to the children as mother's is to me, when the child burst into a tempest of tears; no other word than tempest expresses the violence of her sobs. I tried in all usual ways to comfort her, and enable her to control herself enough to tell me the cause of her grief, but in vain. She sat in her little chair, "refusing to be comforted." She had entered the public schools but a few months before, at her own urgent request, being lonely without her elder brother and sister. She was considerably younger than the others had been when they entered, and there had been some doubt in the minds of her parents as to the advisability of her doing so, so young. Having already taken the kindergarten course in a private kindergarten, and the lowest primary being largely a continuation of kindergarten methods, her father and I consented to have her make the experiment. Interested friends had suggested private schools, saying the child would meet all sorts of children, and be under unfortunate influences, in fact, using all those arguments usually made by those who are not in sympathy with the public schools. Being myself a devoted adherent to our system of public schools, my own experience as a teacher having proved to my satisfaction that not all the children of parents who provide private schools for their children are more likely to influence for good other children than those usually found in these schools, I had favored the public schools. That the arguments used against public schools had not been without effect, will be shown by the fact that I was thoroughly frightened when, after much coaxing, my little girl said, "It is too bad to tell you." There rose in my mind, as it is said to do in drowning persons, all the stories I had heard of the evil working of public schools, as well as my own obstinacy in regard to the matter, and I really felt faint at the thought that some terrible experience had come to my baby through my mistake. Tenderly explaining to the child that there never could be anything too bad to tell mother, at last she lifted her eyes to mine, as if to read my very thoughts, and said, "Mamma, I have broken something at Hinch's." My own relief at the words can only be understood by a mother to whom the payment of money, however she might be called upon to deny herself to obtain money for the purpose, is not to be compared for a moment to either premature knowledge of evil or actual wrong done by a child in consequence of evil companions. It was difficult to keep the relief from being too apparent. To the child this was a matter of great moment, and as such I felt I must regard it. To understand the matter, I will say that "Hinch's" was a little store where were kept school supplies, and, to the regret of parents and teachers, everything ingenuity could devise to take the pennies of the children,—wonderful whistles, penny draws, candy canes, and chocolate creams in forms of mice and cigars. My little girl had gone to Hinch's with some other children, and had broken something. I supposed, from what she told me, it was the large glass in the show case, and I presumed it would cost considerable to repair the damage; but this could be estimated on a money basis, while the loss I feared would have been incomparable. As I comforted the little one, telling her mamma could make it right, she took heart so she could answer questions. "Did Mr. Hinch scold you?" "Did he send word to have it paid for?" Again she said, "No; but, mamma, will you go right off and see him?" Giving her the desired promise, the now happy child went with me to dinner; and as soon as possible afterward I took her to school, while I went to the store to ascertain the extent of the injury to the show case. Upon inquiring, Mr. Hinch showed me the break, which was a single small pane of glass, of little value. He said, "Was it your little girl?" It seems the child was leaning against some little boxes of nuts, which were shown through glass, and pressed her knee against them, breaking the glass; and Mr. Hinch said he called to her as she ran out, fearing she had cut her knee, and the broken glass would harm her. Again worried at the new thought of physical harm, I went to the school yard; and the child came running to me, saying, "Is it all right, mamma?" and, upon assurance that it was, I examined the poor little bruised knee—serious in my mind, but of no consequence in comparison with what the child thought was "too bad to tell." So true it is that, no less with a child than man or woman, physical pain is not to be compared with mental or spiritual suffering! When I wanted her to come home and have the knee bound up, she only laughed, as if too happy to be able to express herself: "This doesn't hurt much. I am so glad I told you." Mothers, does this seem a long story—a "much ado about nothing"? It was a good lesson to me, and it gave an opportunity to show my child that there could be nothing "too bad to tell mamma." The child had not been forbidden going to Hinch's, and thought no harm of going with a friend; but it was a long time before she was willing to go again, even on an errand, and she learned to be more careful while in a store; but of greater value was the lesson learned to come at once to mamma and tell the exact truth. It seems she had been advised to say nothing about it, and mamma would not know. Some time afterward she came to me with these words: "Mamma, I heard something to-day which is too bad to tell anyone but mamma!" And the child was correct in her, estimate of the "too bad to tell." While regretting that to so young a child should come a knowledge of evil, I was thankful that she brought it to me. As parents we need to take great care not to show ourselves so shocked by the evil that our children will not bring everything they see and hear that is wrong to us. I have known this mistake to be made. A boy comes to his father or mother and tells of an oath, or an impure expression, used by another; and the parent, shocked by the words, quoted though they be, says, "Never let me hear such words from your lips again;" and very likely he never will. But the boy will hear, not only the same, but even worse; and, forbidden to talk of them to his parents, he is in great danger of learning like language himself. And whose is the greater blame—the boy's or his parents? We need also to remember, as in the case of the broken glass, that a matter in itself may be of great importance to the child, while much less serious to us, and thus take care to make neither too little nor too much of those things which concern our children.—S. S. Times. HEALTH AND HAPPINESS.
By Providence Journal
HEALTH and happiness go together. There is no use of talking about it, for they do. Not all the medicines or creeds in the world can make a bilious, nervous, sick person happy. He must be well before he can say, "I am in good condition in mind and body." There are a great many wrong notions in the world, and everybody has imbibed some of them. All have prescriptions for whoever complains. Some take this or that nostrum, others lay all unhappiness to the heart or conscience, while the trouble is the stomach or liver. And it will be so as long as the world stands, unless a reform be made in our habits. In the first place, a man's house should be the most healthful, quiet, restful spot on earth to him. The religion of a man's life should begin here, find its spring and nurture here. All the churches and meetings under the sun cannot do or undo what his home does. When he enters there, and shuts the door behind them, he should feel that the cares, duties, business, noise, smells, and everything else of the outside world, are shut out. Here are relaxation and rest. He throws off his former life as he throws off his coat. When he sleeps, he should do it as going into the land of forgetfulness, to come back refreshed794 and new. When he reads or chats with his family, it should be as he would sit down in an orchard to enjoy its fruits, or in a flower garden to be delighted and soothed by its beauty and fragrance. Home should be the club, library, picture gallery, and sanctuary. But there are material arrangements connected with our social life, and not the least among them are cooking and breathing. Poor or partially cooked food will drive health out of the body and happiness out of the heart; and bad or no ventilation will ruin the peace of any house. One of the best and greatest blessings in a house is an open fireplace. It is where the members of the family mostly congregate, and are in the best spirits. The hearthstone has witnessed more cheerfulness, and listened to more pleasant words, and seen brighter, happier faces, than any other place in the world. The only prescription we give is to go and make your home bright and healthful, and it will be happy.—Providence Journal. ONLY a little word carelessly flung
From lips that encircled a mischievous tongue,
But it fell on a heart bowed in grief for its sin,
And it caused dull despair to triumph within. Only a root left to grow in the ground,
But it flourished and spread baneful influence round,
And the soil that was once so fertile and fair
Yielded naught but the worthless encumberer there. Only a little child, prattling and gay,
Caressing his hand in its sweet, childish way,
But it brought to a prodigal, straying from home,
The thought of the mother who prayed him to come. Only a flower, simple, fragrant, and sweet,
That someone had dropped on the wide, busy street,
But it lightened the room where a sufferer lay,
Shut out from the brightness and beauty of day. Only a seed falling down to the earth
Which nourished and warmed it to being and birth,
But it grew to a tree whose widespread branches made
For the worn, weary traveler a rest and a shade. Only a part of the labor each day,
But steadily working, each step of the way
Is finished at length, and wrought one by one,
And little by little the great task was done. Only a whisper breathed low on the ear,
Speaking of hope, of courage and cheer,
But it gave quickened impulse to try once again,
In spite of discouragement, hardship, and pain. Only a smile, but it cheered a tired heart
That bravely to duty was doing its part;
Only a word, but what power it gave
To one who was seeking the erring to save. Only a tear that in secret was shed,
But it told of a heart that in penitence bled,
And the angels rejoiced at the true token given,
And, "Behold, now he prays," is recorded in heaven. THE DARK SIDE OF CITY LIFE.
In this day and generation the mania for city life is a vast generator of crime and misery. In an article on "The Tenement House Problem," in the New York Independent, Rev. John B. Devins presents the following picture:— "One cannot present the tenement house problem on paper; he cannot draw a picture sufficiently vivid to be lifelike. The camera fails here also; you cannot photograph an odor. The stereopticon tells only half the truth; you cannot flash a dwarfed intellect or a stunted soul upon canvas. To understand very much about the homes of the poor, you must live with the people and live as they live; you must sleep where they sleep, and sleep as they sleep in their poorly ventilated rooms; you must eat what they eat, with quality frequently sacrificed to quantity; you must breathe the foul air which they are obliged to inhale, often through no fault of their own; you must walk through the filthy streets in which they are compelled to spend much of their time, because someone withholds the small parks to which they are entitled; you must read the cheap literature which they read, quality again being a secondary matter; you must climb the steps of the dark and often ill-smelling stairs which lead to their 'room,' or 'room and bedroom,' where frequently five or six persons live, eat, sleep, and die; you must undergo privation as they do—unjustly, it seems to them sometimes, and to others also; you must go to bed hungry and fall asleep from exhaustion after walking for hours looking for work; you must hear the landlord, or, worse, his agent, insisting on the rent already overdue, when you have not a dime in the house; you must meet the insurance agent, whose weekly visits alone seem to stand between you and the potter’s field; you must listen to your children crying for bread when there is not a crust in the cupboard, nor a penny in the purse to supply it; you must watch your wife or child suffer and waste and die, when the prescription lies on the table and you cannot get the medicine for lack of money; you must know something of these everyday experiences of hundreds of families before you can understand very much about the tenement house problem." And one of the prime causes of all this795 destitution is suggested in this statement:— "The country is longing for the labor which they can supply but will not. Hundreds of abandoned farms in New England can be purchased for a song. Thousands of families now dependent upon charity could be sent to the country every year, with profit to city and country alike; but very few of them will go. They prefer the bustle of the city's streets to the loneliness of the country road; they choose rather to suffer hardships here to-day, hoping for better things tomorrow, than accept smaller but certain wages there; they dread the cold, bleak days of winter; they know they will be homesick, and generally they are, when they yield to the importunities of friends and make a change, and all too frequently they return to their dingy rooms and dry bread and black coffee." There is ample room and plenty of healthful air in the world for all. The ground, even under its sin-cursed condition, will yield plenty for all. But Satan is working with mighty power to destroy mankind, "because he knoweth that he hath but a short time" (Rev. 12:12), and a most effectual scheme is to instill into the human mind a lusting for city life. Why is it that people who might do fairly well, might have far better health, might do good in many ways, will persist in seeking the city, where there are so many sinful allurements, and so many probabilities of both temporal and spiritual wreckage? It is amazing what plausible pretexts men and women, and especially young people, will conjure up as reasons for moving into town. Most of them would do better, financially and spiritually, to remain in the country, till the soil, and be content with less of the giddy whirl and excitement of the world. HOW TO HAVE A GOOD SERVANT.
A WRITER in the Boston Transcript gives a long list of rules tending to the elucidation of this subject, from which a few of the most significant are culled:— Give her as good wages as you can; pay her regularly, or give her reasons why she should wait. Do not expect her to be a mind reader, but tell her just what you want done. Give her as pleasant a room as possible, and let her have time to keep it in order. Do not talk as if your own way was the only right way to do things. Never allow the children to treat her with disrespect or make her unnecessary work. Never reprimand her before children or strangers. Always say “good-morning” and “good-night.” Always say “please” and “thank you” when you ask her to do anything for you, and insist upon the children doing the same. A command given in an abrupt, disagreeable tone will often make her angry or unhappy. If you like her, tell her so sometimes. If she is cross or irritable, be patient with her. She may be suffering acutely, mentally or physically. Above all things, do not scold, blame, or find fault with her any more than you can possibly help. Nothing will discourage her so much. She needs encouragement a thousand times more than she needs discouragement. To sum up, be as kind, patient, sympathetic, reasonable, considerate, and respectful to her as you would wish other women to be to your own daughter if she is ever obliged to do housework for a living. “Oh, is it not a blessed thought,
Children of human birth,
That once the Saviour was a child,
And lived upon the earth?” The Lord Jesus for your sake not only became a man, but a child, and he knows just what help you need to be his disciple now while you are a child. Ask him daily for that help; daily expect to have it; and daily strive to live with that help as the child Jesus lived. He can make you obedient, truthful, fearless in right doing, and resolute to resist all manner of persuasions and temptations to sin. You need to be pardoned for the sins you have already done, and to be helped to leave off sinning. This the Saviour does and loves to do for those who ask him and trust him to do it.—Seeing Jesus. THERE was in Yeddo a poor man who had worked hard and long, and had saved a small sum of money. He had no strong box to keep it in, and it occurred to him that if he dropped it inside an empty bean-sauce cask no one would ever think of looking there for it. Now this bean sauce is much used by poor people, but the smell is very strong and somewhat offensive to persons of delicate taste. Some ingenious thief, after all, did discover the hiding place, for one day the poor man found his money missing. He went immediately to Oka and told him of the loss, adding that he thought it must be laid to the charge of some one of the neighbors. So Oka summoned all the poor man’s neighbors for the next day, and when they had appeared in court, Oka announced:— "In my opinion it is one of you that has stolen this money from the bean-sauce cask, and, if that is so, I shall be able to tell by the smell of the thief’s fingers; so let each one come up here and present his hands in turn." Just as he had said this he noticed one of the men in the back of the court room suddenly put his hand to his nose and smell it. "That man over there is the thief," immediately exclaimed the judge, pointing to the man. Oka knew, you see, that if the thief was really among the crowd, his guilty conscience would probably suggest to him the thought, "Will my hands really betray me?"—Harper’s Young People. AN EMINENT AUTHORITY ON ALCOHOL.
By Austin Flint
I BELIEVE all alcoholic liquors and beverages of any and every kind containing alcohol, to be inevitably injurious to all persons who are in perfect health and well nourished. The evil effects produced upon the liver, stomach, and kidneys by habitual use of alcoholic beverages are too well known to the medical pathologist to render it necessary to dwell upon them. Alcohol is a good servant in the hands of an intelligent physician, but a bad master for the foolish man who uses it as a beverage. It follows, therefore, as a natural and logical sequence, that alcoholic liquor of any kind, description, or character whatsoever should never be used except when prescribed by an able and conscientious physician in cases where sickness makes it absolutely necessary that it should be given as medicine.—Dr. Austin Flint, Professor of Physiology in the Bellevue Hospital Medical College, New York, and author of "Flint's Practice of Medicine." So FEW cooks or housekeepers seem to know that every article of food should be kept covered until it appears on the table. Milk and butter, for instance, should be kept in air-tight vessels and kept covered. They both take up every odor flying in the air, and are positively harmful to take into the stomach after standing uncovered for an hour or two, for not only odors, but the animalculæ that fill the air, are attracted to milk and butter. Uncovered jelly is a menace to family health. It is in gelatine jelly that expert bacteriologists imprison germs of disease to watch them propagate. They seem to thrive better on that kind of food than any other, yet in two-thirds of the pantries in the city will be found half-used dishes or glasses of jelly standing uncovered.—Selected. Contending with Calamity
By Hale
He that violently and impetuously contends against a calamity, contributes more to his own uneasiness than his cross doth. I do not fear the burning tempest,
The awful beating of the mighty hail,
The lake with fire and brimstone burning,
For Christ, my refuge, will never fail.
In thee; in thee alone, I’m trusting,
Not in the good that I have done;
And this one cry my soul is making
From early dawn till set of sun:
“Come, Lord Jesus, come.” For in thy wings is found the healing
For all the soul’s stains that sin has made.
O pierced feet, I pray thee hasten,
So great the burden on me is laid!
I pray for those who now in darkness
See not the cross, light through the gloom
Send light, and in the many mansions,
Lord, may we early find us room.
“Come, Lord Jesus, come.”
—Sabbath Recorder. THE ISLAND OF JAVA.
By Frederic M. Burr
BATAVIA the beautiful, known throughout East as the "gridiron," on account of the heat of its climate, and considered to be one of the most unhealthful towns in the world, is wonderfully attractive. The streets are wide and well kept, and are shaded by the most luxuriant tropical growth. The stores and private residences stand back from the road in the midst of ample grounds or compounds, beautifully adorned with flowers and foliage. This of course is in the Dutch quarter. The native town is more sordid; but in this favored land everything is picturesque. The canals that form the center of the principal streets, in true Dutch fashion, in which the natives perform their morning ablutions, as well as cleanse the family linen, have a very sluggish current; and this, in connection with the fact that the city is surrounded by marshes, is a sufficient explanation of its unhealthfulness. The general experience of this world holds true here. There is no Eden without its serpent. The Hotel Nederlanden, a large, rambling, one-storied structure, with a spacious central court, is the last place in which one would expect to meet the decrees of fashion, and yet at the table d'hôte the ladies were dressed in a style that would have done credit to any European capital. These same ladies had appeared earlier in the day in a decidedly unconventional attire, and this rendered our surprise all the greater. They have learned to adapt themselves to the climate by keeping their heavier garments for the cool of evening. Even when making ceremonious calls in their carriages many adhere to the native costume,—a white jacket and a calico sarong, or skirt. The toes of their bare feet are thrust into gayly embroidered slippers that flap up and down as they walk. Girls of fifteen or sixteen appear on the veranda in the morning, and, indeed, until long past noon, in a sort of union costume such as young children sometimes wear with us when sleeping. Notwithstanding these preparations for warm weather, the heat is not excessive. During our stay the thermometer only once reached 88 degrees, and then it was easy to find a refreshing breeze. It must also be remembered that this was in the height of summer. The 22d of December is theoretically the turning point of their warm season; but as a matter of fact the temperature is nearly the same all the year round. Lying about forty miles south of the equator, Java enjoys a never-ending summer. This uniformity, to be sure, is somewhat enervating to the system; but for those having the requisite means and time there is a remedy within easy access in the districts remote from the sea. It would seem as if the climate of the interior of Java was as near perfection as it is possible to discover. At Bandong and Garoet, situated 4,000 feet above the sea, we slept under blankets every night.—Frederic M. Burr, in Harper's Magazine. Union Missionary Training School
The Union Missionary Training School at Brooklyn, N. Y., and Hackettstown, N. J., gives to young men and women of all evangelical denominations specific training for foreign missionary work. The course is four years; tuition, $50 a year, and board free. The first two years are spent on the farm branch at Hackettstown; and the last two at the central school in Brooklyn. In nine years thirty-seven missionaries have gone to foreign fields from this institution, under the auspices of various denominations. BISHOP VINCENT, who attended the Methodist Episcopal Conference in Finland last year, gave a report to the New York Christian Advocate, from which we take the following:— "The population of Finland is about 2,500,000. Of these 2,200,000 are Finns and Lutherans. There are, perhaps, 50,000 Russians. There are more than 250,000 Swedes, who are also Lutheran. In Finland there are dissenting Christians. Among them are the Baptist, who have been here ten years longer than the Methodists, and the Salvation Army. There are also the 'Free Church' people, who do not leave the State church, but who enter into the warmer life and adopt the more active methods of the traditional Methodists, hold meetings of their own, build chapels or mission houses, where laymen may officiate and set a good example to the State church folk and their 'priests.'" "Helsingfors is the chief city of Finland, and is situated on the Gulf of Finland, two hundred and seventy-four miles from St. Petersburg. The town is well laid out, with long and wide streets running at right angles. The houses are large and well built, and the principal square contains several fine buildings, as the senate house, the university, and a magnificent church." "The Methodist Episcopal Church is a feeble factor in Finland church life. But it came here in a legitimate way. Norwegian and Swedish emigrants and sailors long ago learned a blessed lesson in Christian faith and experience in the Bethel ship in New York. They came back to Norway and Sweden and told the story and illustrated the life. It became a contagion in Sweden. What is once in Sweden gets over to the Swedes in Finland, and so Methodism came here. The Free Church acknowledges it. The ministers of the State church—many of them—acknowledge it. It is just beginning to organize itself for systematic work." "I have not seen such an intelligent looking congregation at any conference session in Europe as I found at the opening session of the Finland Mission annual meeting in Helsingfors." Educated Hindus and Idolatry
Dr. G. F. Pentecost says that the great bulk of the educated Hindus are practically infidel as to their own religion, and nine out of every ten repudiate idolatry, even though in many cases they continue to observe some of the forms of worship in connection with it. Missionary Restrictions in Persia
Missionaries in Persia report that the government has notified them that their remaining in that country must be on condition that they will not attempt to evangelize the Mohammedans. Turkey is more liberal, as many schools have been established in that country among Mohammedans, and a normal school for girls has been opened in Constantinople under government patronage: Self-Supporting Missions in Chile
The missionary society of the M. E. Church is making an experiment of self-supporting missions in Chile. This means that the missionaries work without salaries. Traveling expenses, means for renting or building chapels, homes for missionaries, etc., are paid by the society. Three men and two women have lately gone to that field, and it is said that others are ready to go when wanted. Protestantism’s Movement Toward Rome
"REV. CAV. FERA, of Italy, mentions two events which are full of encouragement to Italian Protestants. The first is that the municipality of Rome has accepted the gift of a bust of the lamented Alexander Gavazzi, and has decided to place it on the Janiculan Hill, among the Defenders of Rome. That is to say, one of the Fathers of the Evangelical Church, five years after his death, is to have erected in his honor a public monument in the eternal city, still Roman Catholic and formerly belonging to the popes. The other event has taken place in Florence, where a committee of eminent citizens has been formed to erect a statue to Pietro Carnesecchi, one of the reformers of the sixteenth century, who was of a noble historic family in the town, and burned by the Inquisition." Because of such incidents many people imagine that Roman Catholicism is waning. They seem to be blind to the fact that in all so-called Protestant countries there is a general movement of Protestantism toward Rome. It is like the movement of a glacier toward the ocean,—imperceptible only to those who, knowing the destiny, note the trend, measure the progress, and watch the gradual engulfment. The weakening tendency recently manifested on the part of the Italian Government in its attitude of hostility toward the Vatican, tells more for the growing strength of the Papacy than many such instances as those above noted. OUR LITTLE FRIEND
By Editor
An Eight-page Illustrated Weekly Paper for Children. OUR LITTLE FRIEND is designed to be practically useful. The matter all contains the best moral and religious sentiment. It contains two grades of Sabbath-school lessons on the same subject, one for children nine years old and under, and one for children from nine to fourteen. One copy, one year, postpaid, - - - 50c. Five to nine copies to one address, each, - 45c. Ten copies, and over, each, - - - 40c. TO EVERY MAN HIS WORK.
By Ellen G. White
God gives to every man his work, and he expects returns according to the various trusts bestowed. He does not require the increase of ten talents from the man to whom he has given only one talent. He does not expect the man of poverty to give alms as the man who has riches. He does not expect of the feeble and suffering the activity and strength which the healthy man has. The one talent, used to the best account, God will accept, "according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not." God calls us servants, which implies that we are employed by him to do a certain work and bear certain responsibilities. He has lent us capital for investment. It is not our property; and we displease God if we hoard up our Lord's goods, or spend them as we please. We are responsible for the use or abuse of that which God has thus lent us. If this capital which the Lord has placed in our hands, lies dormant, or we bury it in the earth, even if it is only one talent, we shall be called to an account by the Master. He requires, not ours, but his own with usury. Every talent which returns to the Master, will be scrutinized. The doings and trusts of God's servants will not be considered an unimportant matter. Every individual will be dealt with personally, and will be required to give an account of the talents intrusted to him, whether he has improved or abused them. The reward bestowed will be proportionate to the improvement of the talents. The punishment awarded will be according as the talents have been abused. The inquiry of each one should be, "What have I of my Lord's? and how shall I use it to his glory?" "Occupy," says Christ, "till I come." The heavenly Master is on his journey. Our gracious opportunity is now. The talents are in our hands. Shall we use them to God's glory, or shall we abuse them? We may trade with them to-day; but to-morrow our probation may end, and our account be forever fixed. If our talents are invested for the salvation of our fellow-men, God will be glorified. Pride and position are made apologies for extravagance, vain show, ambition, and profligate selfishness. The Lord's talents, lent to man as a precious blessing, will, if abused, reflect upon him a terrible curse. Riches may be used by us to advance the cause of God, and to relieve the wants of the widow and the fatherless. In so doing we gather to ourselves rich blessings. Not only shall we receive expressions of gratitude from the recipients of our bounties, but the Lord himself, who has placed the means in our hands for this very purpose, will make our souls like a watered garden, whose waters fail not. When the reaping time shall come, who of us will have the inexpressible joy of seeing the sheaves we have gathered, as a recompense of our fidelity, and our unselfish use of the talents the Lord has placed in our hands to use for his glory?—Testimony for the Church No. 20.