[Believing it would be of interest to our readers, the editor of the Signs of the Times has asked Sabbath-keeping ministers and evangelical workers to tell in a few words the scripture or scriptures, the truths and principles, which constrained them to accept the unpopular truth of the seventh-day Sabbath. These testimonies must not exceed 500 words. Let us hear from all.]
CLXXXVII.
ALTHO I kept the Sabbath for about a year in 1888-9, I did not thoroughly and exhaustively examine the covenant and sanctuary questions until quite recently; and it was on account of not fully understanding those questions that I quit keeping the Sabbath. It was after reading several unsuccessful attempts to overthrow the Seventh-day Adventist position on the sanctuary, and, after repeated failures of my own to make sense of any other possible interpretation, that I became dissatisfied with the theory of Lex non scripta.
But the main reason was, that the Holy Spirit waited patiently for an opportunity to bring me back into the truth, never losing a chance to stir me up on the subject. Being repeatedly and absolutely forbidden to join any other church, and being plainly commanded by the Spirit of God to unite with the Seventh-day Adventist church, "what was I, that I could withstand God?"
I am being daily more and more convinced that it is a dangerous delusion to believe that the Decalogue has been abolished; and as for a change of the Sabbath to Sunday, that unscriptural notion is being rapidly given up by its advocates. Then, Sabbath-keepers,—
"Press on, never doubting, our Master is near,
With grace to supply, and with comfort to cheer;
His love like a stream in the desert will flow—
Then stand like the brave, with thy face to the foe."
A. H. DARROW.
CLXXXVIII.
NINETEEN years ago I saw a new religious paper in a book-store in Australia. It was the first number of the Bible Echo, published by Seventh-day Adventists in that country. Its suggestive title and general make-up attracted me; so I bought a copy and read it through carefully. At the first opportunity I called at the Bible Echo office and procured a few tracts.
We never had heard of Adventists, and, supposing they were a new sect, teaching false doctrine, I resolved to investigate, with a view to being prepared to expose their erroneous teaching should they visit our town. With an intense love for truth I studied hard to find out the weak points in their doctrines; but, after the keenest search, failed to discover anything unscriptural.
As the prophecies of Daniel and Revelation were studied (with the help of books from our public library), to my surprise and delight a new field of knowledge opened up before me, and it proved to be the greatest revelation ever experienced by me since my conversion in the Baptist Church eleven years before. Never did a soul pray for divine help more earnestly; for, as evidence of the change of the Sabbath by the Papacy claimed my attention, my religious belief seemed to be shaken to its foundation. I studied my Bible and searched diligently among the books of our two public libraries for anything relating to Sunday and Sabbath observance, reading with eagerness statements of writers on both sides of the question.
Every phase of the subject from an historical and Bible standpoint, and every text especially referring to the law, were considered one by one prayerfully for several months, unknown to any one excepting our own family. My constant prayer was, Father, let me not be deluded by men, but teach me Thyself. How wonderfully He fulfilled His promise to answer prayer, language fails to describe; but I praise His name for the various precious truths learned in the privacy of our home in Geelong.
Never did fear of man nor prejudice turn me from my purpose, but, with a determination to know and do my Father's will, I trusted Him to keep my feet in the right path. My wife saw the Sabbath truth first, but I struggled on through perplexities and difficulties, pondering over every detail slowly, until each problem was solved and the truth shone forth clearly. Tho we were alone in a town of twenty thousand inhabitants, we took our stand for the Sabbath of the Lord, and never have regretted it. But we rejoice in the liberty which is possible only to those who render a willing obedience to the law of God from love to Him. "This is the love of God, that we keep His commandments."
A. CARTER.
The Living Water
"Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
MISSIONS
By F. H. Westphal
CHILE, SOUTH AMERICA.
WHEN I came to Montevideo to take the boat for Chile they were celebrating a feast in memory of the peace that had been effected. Their revolution had been more severe than the former one. It was a most cruel revolution; for it was found that very often a father and one son were on one side, and two sons on the other. The revolution was much more than a family quarrel. They were glad that it was over. Many bands played in succession. One tried to surpass the other. The feast lasted for three days, and nearly every one seemed to be happy. There were, however, some sad faces, for some mothers and sisters were dressed in black. There were also wives dressed in black and some children, for some had fallen in the strife and could not join in the gathering.
While there my mind was carried forward to the happy meeting and gathering in the kingdom of heaven, when the long strife between good and evil, and sin and righteousness, and death and life, shall be ended. God will add joy, but there will be no sorrow with it.
When the night came and Montevideo was illuminated, and the discharge of the rockets was added to the beauty, I was especially impressed with the grandness of the sight. But what will be the grand sight when the City of God shall be illuminated, with the glory of God and shall shine above the brightness of the sun! God's people themselves will shine brighter than anything that we have as yet seen. I would long to be in that peace gathering, as I believe many others long to be. Well, the journey is almost complete, and soon we shall be there, if we are faithful until the end.
After a very pleasant journey I reached Valparaiso, Chile, November 4. The business portion of the city of Valparaiso is situated in a valley below, but most of this ground has been stolen from the sea. The sea sometimes tries to claim this territory, and so sweeps onto the city, causing considerable damage. The city is now being raised several feet, so that the danger will be greatly diminished.
They have some very pretty plazas, and the people gather there for pleasure and display. There is also a fine alameda, or wide street, being arranged.
The dwellings are mostly on the cerros (hills) and it takes some strength to reach them. I am sure that any one who would do colporteur work in this city, would have exercise enough.
Among the common sights are asses carrying stones, lumber, hay, groceries, milk, brick, and in fact everything can be seen carried on their backs. One day as we were passing along they were milking an ass, and some individuals were standing around waiting to get a drink of milk.
A Missionary Field.
This city has about one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, and there is truly a field for work. There are many places where strong drink is sold, and there are many who buy. The standard of truth must be lifted up among this people before the great and dreadful day of the Lord shall come. Earthquakes are frequent. One occurred while I was there. The people say that at first they are not afraid, but after a time, if the tremblores occur often, they get more nervous. Chile has been visited with some very destructive earthquakes in the past. In the year 1836 nearly all the cities of southern Chile were destroyed. Concepcion, Chillan, and other places were completely destroyed.
We came to Santiago, the capital city of Chile. It is a beautiful place. Before reaching Santiago the snow-covered Andes Mountains come in sight. There is a stream flowing from those mountains that continually washes the city and keeps it clean. The alameda, fully as wide as three ordinary streets, has two streams flowing all the time. There are wide sidewalks on each side and in the center a wide walk, and then there are the two streams flowing continually on each side of the walk in the center of the alameda. There are small streams of water flowing through each lot in the city to carry away the refuse. These streams are very swift. The fall is sufficient to keep the city clean.
On the Alameda, San Martin in Santiago, Chile.
There are many large Catholic institutions here and many churches. I was especially interested in the large public buildings that the Spaniards built here, when the country was under Spanish control. The windows are all well secured by heavy iron rails. It is grand to go on top of the Cerro Santa Lucia and take a view of the city. This cerro, or hill, has been made beautiful by the many trees that have been planted there. The flowers of various kinds are always in bloom. The Andes can be seen very clearly from this hill which is six hundred and twenty-nine meters, or over two thousand feet, above the level of the sea.
At this place the message has taken root. A Seventh-day Adventist church of about twenty-five members is here as a witness to the truth. We held three meetings with this church. The devil does not like to see this church here, and so he tried to frighten the members by a letter threatening the members that if the government did not drive these miserable Seventh-day Adventists away, the Catholics themselves would do it. But I think this letter was written by a fanatic; for the government is very liberal. A few years ago a Protestant hardly dared to tell any one that he was a Protestant; for he would almost certainly be knocked down or killed. Now we can preach freely, and the government says, Go ahead and preach all you desire to.
There is even a desire to hear the Gospel among the natives. It is peculiar that there is a special desire to hear the Word, and even much more among the Chilenos than among the foreigners that are here. What the people need here is the Gospel in its simplicity. Their customs need to be changed, and their general habits of life. Other denominations recognize this and they are trying to effect this by the establishment of schools; but there is nothing that can effect such a change as the Gospel of the soon coming of the Lord. We need a school where workers can be educated to carry the message to all the people. The government is very favorable to such enterprises, and it seems to me that we should build up the work as fast as possible.
I am glad to see the truth finding its way to every nation on the earth. God has gone out before us to prepare hearts for the reception of the truth. I just met a young man who is an earnest worker, and he told me how he came to take hold of the truth. He was walking on the streets in Santiago and he heard two men talking, and one said to the other, 'Somos bendicido de Dios.' The man immediately walked up to those men and saluted them and kissed them. He said he had never seen them before, but he saw them in a dream the night before and heard them speak those words. As soon as he heard them speak those words, he recognized the voice, and when he looked at them, he recognized their faces, and so he walked up to them and kissed them.
This young man was only seventeen years old. He was sick at the time and he told his brother that he met some brethren on the sidewalk, and he had seen them in a dream the night before, and he told his brother to visit them, for he believed they had something of importance to tell them. As he was sick, he remained at home himself, but his brother went. When his brother returned, the young man asked him what he thought of those men, and of what they said. He responded that these men have the truth, and they keep the Sabbath. "Well," said the young man, "I shall keep the very next Sabbath." When he would not work on the Sabbath, his oldest brother struck him a number of times, and greatly injured him, and then threw him on the street. This young man went to the meeting without his hat and without his coat. His oldest brother also struck his other brother who had inquired of those men, because he also commenced to keep the Sabbath. These two laborers were Brother Bishop and Brother Davis. The young men who embraced the truth are Brethren Eduardo and Victor Thomann. The older brother who struck the other two is now also keeping the Sabbath, and is going into the work as a canvasser to help spread the truth. The Lord knows how to bring souls to the knowledge of the truth.13
I traveled on through the fruit belt of Chile. Chile yields an abundance of fruit. And all through this valley the trees are well loaded with fruit. We finally came to Rengo. Here is a family living that has embraced the truth almost as a whole. There is one son who is an officer of a prison who has not yet accepted the truth. One of the sons is a lawyer. He publishes a paper, and every week he has splendid articles that contain the Third Angel's Message in his paper. Very often these articles are translations of some of the best articles in the SIGNS OF THE TIMES. We can see how the truth is advancing and soon every one will have heard the message. We spent the Sabbath here at this place and enjoyed the meeting very much. Several strangers came to the meeting, and we hope soon to see them in the message with all their hearts.
We next came to Chillan, where there is one sister who is faithful to the message and loves it with all her heart. This city is one of the many that was destroyed in the year 1836. It has all been built up again, and no one would know by its appearance that it had ever been destroyed. All along the way the snow-covered Andes can be clearly seen. I finally reached Pua and Brother Krieghoff met me. He and I will soon be out with a tent to preach the truth among the people. On our way to his house we could see the Andes and their tops still covered with snow. One was an active volcano. Whenever there is to be a change of weather it steams and smokes. It did not deceive us, for to-day it has been raining. There is another volcano in sight, but it has not been in action for many years.
I am now here at the frontier, and have met some of the Indians. They are very shy when any one desires to take their picture. There is a general belief among them that when they have their picture taken they can not live longer than two years more. The Indians are generally lazy. The women have to do all the work there is done, and that is not very much, but the men do nothing at all. There is an Indian at Imperial who offers land so that we might start a school among them. I think that it would be a good thing if some teachers could go there and educate the Indians in the principles of true Christianity. Now is the time to work in this country. Since peace has been restored between Chile and Argentina, the condition of things looks a little brighter. Business is beginning to pick up, and in every way we can expect to see the country grow and prosper. What we lack is more workers. It used to be very dangerous here at the frontier, but since thieves are shot right down by the government officials, things are beginning to improve very much. Brethren, pray for this field, and think of our school in your prayers; and if the Lord should tell you to give something for our school work, then send your donations to the mission board and tell them that it is for the school in Chile.
F. H. WESTPHAL.
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FOR MAKING A GIRL.
By Elizabeth McCracken
[Elizabeth McCracken, in Youth's Companion.]
CATHERINE rushed from the house, hurried down the steps, and ran to the corner, gesticulating excitedly to an approaching car. She hurried into the car and sank with a little sigh of relief into a corner seat.
When she had paid her fare, unfastened her fur collar, carefully readjusted her veil, and arranged the red rosebuds a little more securely in the front of her jacket, she gave attention to her surroundings. Catherine always found in the street-cars unfailing demands upon her interest and curiosity.
A woman, shabbily attired, her face dull and weary, sat opposite, holding in her arms a pale little child. The child was asleep, and leaned heavily against her mother, who sat almost motionless, with heavy, unseeing eyes fixed on the car window. Catherine gazed intently at the child for a moment; then she crossed the car and sat down beside the woman.
"Is the little girl ill?" she asked gently. Her cousin frequently complained that Catherine was continually doing things of this kind; that she had absolutely no idea of social science.
The woman stared at her, but Catherine smiled in a friendly manner. Catherine took many things for granted, among them universal good-will toward herself. She was gentle to every one. She expected every one to be gentle to her, and almost every one was.
"Is she ill?" she repeated.
"N-no. Her pa's in the drink a good deal, and she don't get as much as usual to eat those times. Her pa's all right when he's hisself; but when he's in the drink—he ain't so good."
"It's too bad—he does drink," said Catherine. It was an inadequate remark, but she remembered that the man was the woman's husband.
"Yes," said the woman, "'tis, but those things happen, miss."
"Yes, I suppose they do, but it's a pity. How pretty your little girl is! Are her eyes dark? I've always longed for dark eyes."
The woman smiled with pleasure. "Yes, they're dark; but you've got no cause to be wantin' prettier eyes yerself, miss," she said.
Catherine's eyes were quickly noting the child's shabby brown dress and soiled little green jacket.
"O, but I have! You see, I never can wear red, and I'm so fond of red. Now your little girl would look sweet in red. Does she ever wear it?"
"She wears w'at she can get, miss, sometimes it ain't much," the woman said, so wearily that Catherine hastily turned her face away to hide the pitying tears that she feared might offend.
Catherine's uncle was of the opinion that his niece had sufficient diplomatic ability to steer the ship of state. She certainly was beautifully considerate of the dignity and the sensibilities of those persons who had less to give than herself.
"My little sister wears red. She has brown eyes, and she looks pretty in it. She has a red cloak that she has outgrown. Your little girl would look sweet in it. Won't you let her wear it? It is a shame to have it hanging idly in the closet when she would look so dear in it. I wish she would wake up and let me see her eyes. They must be pretty. I have to get off soon. You see I am going to church, because it is Thanksgiving Day. Won't you give me your address, and let me send the cloak? Mama will be so glad that I have found some one who can wear it."
She turned to the woman with a friendly smile, "You will—as a special favor to me, won't you?" she pleaded. And the smile became irresistible.
The woman's face brightened. She had not known charming girls who had asked her in that coaxing way to receive gifts as special concessions to them.
"Why, miss, if you don't need it, I'd be glad to have it for Seville—my girl's named Seville, after a girl in a book her pa gave me when he first knowed me."
"How interesting!" said Catherine. "It's such an unusual name, too. My name is Catherine, and so is my mother's, and my grandmother's and her mother's."
"My name is Rose," said the woman. Her face was less dull, and her voice less tired. It was so pleasant to forget for a moment her sorrows, and discuss pretty names with a girl who seemed not to remember one's poverty. "My ma named me for a rose she found in an ash-barrel before I was born."
"That is like a story too," said Catherine. She pulled the roses from her jacket. "I read a poem once about a 'Rose among roses.' You take these home, and you will be another 'Rose among roses.'"
The woman's cheek caught the red of the flowers. "What pretty things you know!" she said.
"Yes, I do," said Catherine, tenderly. "When mama asked us this morning what we had to be thankful for to-day, I said, 'For all the lovely people I know and all the beautiful things I see.' Of course, there are other things, too, but these are the nicest. What are you specially thankful for?"
"Well, I don't know as there's much, miss, for me to be thankful for to-day. I'm havin' hard times now, with the man in the drink and Seville ailin'," said the woman, bitterly.
Catherine knew little of social science, according to her cousin's verdict, and she said, "It certainly must be hard, but perhaps you could think of something special. Mama insists that every one can. You just try."
"Well," said the woman, "but it ain't easy."
"No, it isn't. Dear me, I must get off at this next corner! What is your address? May I bring the cloak myself this afternoon, after church and dinner? Good-by!"
The woman watched her as she hurried across the street. "She's a funny kind of girl, but she's awful nice," she thought. She held the roses to her face, and remembered the pretty thing the girl had said about a "Rose among roses." The delicate flower of sentiment, the flower whose fragrance is the most subtle, the most exquisite in the world, had been crushed in the woman, but a faint new life quivered in it and stirred it.
In the quiet church Catherine thought of the woman and the child. As she came with her family out into the frosty air, she took possession of her mother.
"Mama, there was a woman in the car with a little girl. The little girl didn't have half enough on. She really looked cold. May I give her Daisy's old red cloak and take her one of grandma's pumpkin pies?"
Her mother smiled fondly, and patted her hand. She was accustomed to Catherine, and cheerfully encouraged her in her unscientific philanthropy.
"Catherine is too young to study social science," she told the bewildered cousin. "It is too large for her yet."
"Yes, I think so, dear," she said, "and I will pack a little Thanksgiving basket for her. She won't be offended. You can tell her that your mother wanted you to take it." Catherine possibly inherited a little of her diplomatic ability from her mother.
They packed the basket and folded the cloak, assisted by the aunts and cousins, to whom Catherine had not failed to relate the little story of Rose and Seville.
"Give the little Seville this," said her uncle, handing her a silver dollar. "Tell the 'Rose upon the balcony' that I never before have known, even indirectly, any one actually named for the heroine of a story."
"How kind you all are," said Catherine.
"She will do a lot of good in this world," said her uncle, closing the door for her. "She is filled to the brim with sisterly love. She'll never patronize a cat."
"No," said her cousin, "She would ask its advice or discuss landscapes with it."
"She is a dear girl," said her mother.
Meanwhile the "dear girl" had found the two rooms in which Rose and her little girl lived. She knocked softly, and the little girl cautiously opened the door. Catherine went into the kitchen and eagerly took the woman's hand.
"Her eyes are lovely," she whispered.
The kitchen was warm, but very bare and cheerless. Catherine's roses made the one bright spot in it. Catherine, however, appeared utterly oblivious to its squalor.
She unwrapped the cloak. "Do try it on her!" she said. The woman amazed herself with her pleasant flutter and excitement. She began to be proud of her child. She had been too busy, too miserable, to care whether her eyes were brown or blue; but this girl seemed so happy because the child was pretty that the woman's natural pride awakened.
"Well, now, she is a fine sight in it, ain't she?" she said. "Walk over there, Seville, till I see you! Now it's real stylish you're lookin'. An' it's me as thanks you, miss."
"I'm glad to see it on any one to whom it is so becoming. O, by the way, mama sent that basket of Thanksgiving things. Mama is always happy when she is giving away things, and I think she ought to be happy on Thanksgiving Day. If you can't use them, just give them away. And Uncle John sent this silver dollar to Seville. He never before has known any one named for a story-book heroine, and he was so interested. And I brought one of grandma's pumpkin pies. She makes such good ones, and I couldn't resist bringing one." Catherine put the basket on the table as she spoke, and gave the dollar to the woman.
The woman was almost overwhelmed. This girl had such a pretty way of giving! She evidently did not guess that the little pantry was almost empty. Soft tears came into the mother's eyes.
"I don't know what to say to you, miss. You've done that much for me. It's hard times I've had, but you're like a friend—an' you a lady and me a poor woman."
"I'm a woman, too," said Catherine. "We have just lived differently, don't you see?"
"I guess we have, miss, I guess we have."
In the silence that followed, Catherine heard heavy breathing in the room beyond the kitchen. She instinctively looked at the woman.
"It's my husband. He's sleeping off the drink," said the woman.15
"O!" said Catherine. "You will let me be your friend, won't you? And let me make hard times easier for you? You would for me, I know, and I'd let you."
"An' it's glad I'll be to let you, miss. You've been a blessin' this day. Now its a cup of tay you'll let me be makin' for you?"
"I'd love it! And we'll eat some of mama's cake!" Catherine heartily replied. The hesitation, mingled with eager hope, in the woman's suggestion was very touching, and Catherine understood the brightness of giving.
She asked no questions, but over the thick cups and the broken teapot the woman told her how hard her times had been, and the girl seemed to understand. "Now I am your friend," she said, "and you must let me help."
When she went, the little girl, arrayed in the red cloak, accompanied her to the corner. The woman sat alone, leaning on the table. The sound of the heavy breathing in the room next the kitchen fell upon her ears, and the shadow came again to her face, the shadow of the too heavy burden that will not be banished from human faces until every person in the world remembers to do the little or the great service for others that he may do, that it is his privilege, his birthright to do.
The woman bit her lip. Her miserable eyes were dull and heavy. Suddenly her glance rested upon Catherine's roses. The shadow lightened. The woman's thoughts strayed to the girl. She recollected Catherine's words about giving thanks for special blessings. Again soft tears filled her eyes. She bowed her weary head on the table and whispered:
"God, I specially thank you—for makin' that girl."
HYMN OF WINTER.
By Samuel Longfellow
'Tis winter now; the fallen snow
Has left the heavens all coldly clear;
Through leafless boughs the sharp winds blow
And all the earth lies dead and drear.
And yet God's love is not withdrawn;
His life within the keen air breathes,
His beauty paints the crimson dawn,
And clothes the boughs with glittering wreaths.
And tho abroad the sharp winds blow,
And skies are chill and frosts are keen,
Home closer draws her circle now,
And warmer glows the light within.
O God! who giv'st the winter's cold
As well as summer's joyous rays,
Us warmly in Thy love enfold,
And keep us through life's wintry days.
—Samuel Longfellow.
