Earlier text: Arguments Against the World's ConversionThe Two Covenants.
By John Nevins Andrews
We should not overlook this important fact, that the establishment of the new covenant was solely with the Hebrew people. Our Lord confined his ministry to the Jewish people, declaring that he was not sent but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Matt. 15 : 24. When he sent out the twelve during his own ministry, he “commanded them, saying, Go not into the way of the Gentiles, and into any city of the Samaritans enter ye not; but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Matt. 10 : 5, 6. And when he sent the seventy also, it was only into those cities and villages whither he himself would come. Luke 10 : 1. His apostles were all Jews. And with them was the first solemn act of ratification of the new covenant in the cup out of which all drank, representing the new testament in his blood. Luke 22 : 20; 1 Cor. 11 : 25. And here comes in the fact that the seventy weeks of Daniel’s prophecy pertain exclusively to the Hebrew people. Dan. 9 : 24. The last, or seventieth, week was devoted to the confirmation of the covenant. Dan. 9 : 27. It began with our Lord’s ministry to the Hebrews, and ended when the apostles turned to the Gentiles. It was in the midst of this week of confirming the covenant that our Lord was crucified. And thus we find that, after our Lord’s ascension, the ministers of the word preached the gospel “to none but unto the Jews only.” Acts 11:19. It was unto the Jews first that God, having raised up his Son, sent him to bless them in turning them away from their sins. Acts 3 : 25, 26. The termination of the seventy weeks closed the period in which the work pertained exclusively to the Hebrews. The work for the Gentiles was opened by the conversion of Saul, and by his commission to them as their apostle. Acts 9; 26:17. It was also opened on the part of Peter by his wonderful vision of the sheet let down from heaven, and the commission given him at that time. Acts 10:9 ;15: 7, 14-17. But what was the condition of the Gentiles before “the door of faith” was opened to them? Let the apostle Paul answer this, Eph. 2:11-13, “Wherefore remember, that ye being in time past Gentiles in the flesh, who are called Uncircumcision by that which is called the Circumcision in the flesh made by hands; that at that time ye were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world; but now in Christ Jesus ye who sometimes were far off are made nigh by the blood of Christ.” The apostle goes on to speak of the union of Jews and Gentiles in one body as follows, verses 14-20: “For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us; having abolished in his flesh the enmity, even the law of commandments contained in ordinances; for to make in himself of twain one new man, so making peace; and that he might reconcile both unto God in one body by the cross, having slain the enmity thereby; and came and preached peace to you which were afar off, and to them that were nigh. For through him we both have access by one spirit unto the Father. Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints, and of the household of God; and are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone.” Those who sneer at everything which God has committed to the Hebrews, and boast themselves of their Gentile descent, would do well to compare this statement of the condition of the Gentiles with Paul’s statement of the “advantages” of the Jews, and his enumeration of the things that pertain to them. Rom. 3 : 1, 2; 9 : 4, 5. God purposed to make of the Circumcision and the Uncircumcision one people for himself. The first thing was to abolish the enmity, viz., the code which created national distinction, which was circumcision and the ceremonial law. See Acts 11 : 3; Col. 2 : 13-17; Gal. 2 : 11, 12. Of the Gentiles it is said that they were “in time past Gentiles in the flesh,” and “at that time . . . without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world.” Of the Israelites it is said: “To whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God, and the promises; whose are the fathers, and of whom as concerning the flesh Christ came, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.” Certainly the Gentiles have no occasion for boasting. They did not take into the union that which added much to the common stock. They came in as the veriest beggars. They became rich by sharing with the Hebrews the blessings which God had for long ages preserved in their hands. The Gentiles were made partakers of the spiritual things which God had wisely and justly placed in the hands of Israel. Rom. 15 : 27. But being thus brought nigh by the blood of Christ, Paul says of those who were Gentiles “in time past” (but not now) that they were “no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow-citizens with the saints and of the household of God.” They were no longer Gentiles, but Israelites. They became sharers in the name and in the riches of Israel. And it is by this adoption into the commonwealth of Israel that they became sharers in the blessings of the new covenant. The subject is wonderfully illustrated by the words of Jer. 11:16; and Rom. 11 : 17-24. Thus we read:— “The Lord called thy name, A green olive tree, fair, and of goodly fruit; with the noise of a great tumult he hath kindled fire upon it, and the branches of it are broken.” “And if some of the branches be broken off, and thou, being a wild olive tree, wert graffed in among them, and with them partakest of the root and fatness of the olive tree; boast not against the branches. But if thou boast, thou bearest not the root, but the root thee. Thou wilt say then, The branches were broken off, that I might be graffed in. Well; because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith. Be not high-minded, but fear; for if God spared not the natural branches, take heed lest he also spare not thee. Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in his goodness; otherwise thou also shalt be cut off. And they also, if they abide not still in unbelief, shall be graffed in; for God is able to graff them in again. For if thou wert cut out of the olive tree, which is wild by nature, and were graffed contrary to nature into a good olive tree; how much more shall these, which be the natural branches, be graffed into their own olive tree?” Here is the good olive tree, representing the family of Abraham, as adopted by the God of the whole earth, when he gave up the rest of mankind to their own chosen idolatry and wickedness. It is a “green olive tree, fair, and of goodly fruit.” To this olive tree pertain the covenants of promise. The first covenant is made with the people thus represented. The new covenant is made with the same people that the first covenant was made with. The breaking off of many of the branches of the tree is because God’s ancient people continued not in his covenant. This is why he regarded them not. Jer. 31:32; Heb. 8:9. Indeed, in the chapter in which Jeremiah predicts the breaking off of the branches of the olive tree, he assigns the reason: The violation of the covenant God made with his people when he brought them forth out of Egypt. See Jer. 11. By the new covenant, those who were broken off can, if they will, be graffed in again, and not only, but the Gentiles also with them. We may consider the good olive tree as having twelve larger branches, and a vast number of small branches. The tree will at the close of human probation, stand complete, representing the twelve tribes of “the Israel of God.” There can be, therefore, no dispute that the first covenant, and the new covenant, were each made with the Hebrew people; the first, at the departure out of Egypt; the second, at the time of our Lord’s ministry and death. The Gentiles share in the blessings of the new covenant by becoming members of the commonwealth of Israel. Eph. 2:12, 19. J. N. A. The Closing Message of the Gospel.
By R. F. Cottrell
The common reader can see that in Rev. 14: 6 and onward to the end of the chapter, is described the closing work of the gospel. Great learning is not necessary in order to come to this conclusion, for it is evident to every ordinary mind. And it is remarkable that the last message brings a test upon the “commandments of God and the faith of Jesus.” Had there not been a great apostasy from the commandments and the faith, this test would never have been brought upon the professed worshipers of God in the last days. The result of the warning against the worship of the beast and his image is the development of the true people of God, who are described as those who keep both the commandments and the faith. These obey the warning; therefore it is evident that the worship of the beast is something which is opposed to the commandments and the faith. If the professed worshipers of God were really keeping all his commandments, such a terrible warning and trying test would not be needed at the close of the gospel day to prepare a people for the coming of the Son of man. The fact that such a fearful warning closes the preaching of the gospel, proves that till then the great apostasy, at the head of which is the beast, has not been cured, but that there is still a strong tendency to follow it, and consequently great danger of falling under the threatened wrath of God. Now what is described under the symbol of the beast? and what has he done in opposition to the commandments of God? The beast is described in Rev. 13: 1-10. Its ten horns identify it with the fourth beast of Dan. 7, and his likeness to the leopard, with the feet of a bear, and the mouth of a lion, shows that it succeeds those beasts in Daniel's prophecy, and the description given identifies it with Daniel's fourth beast under the rule of the little horn which came up among the ten. It is generally admitted by students of prophecy that this fourth beast is the Roman empire; that the ten horns are the ten kingdoms into which Rome was divided, and the little horn before whom three fell is the Roman papacy. This little horn of Daniel, the beast of Revelation, and the “man of sin,” described in 2 Thess. 2, all point to the same papal power, which resulted from “a falling away,” or apostasy in the church. What has this power done, or what are its claims, that the people of the last generation should be so solemnly warned against following or worshiping it? The most succinct description of it is given in Dan. 7: 25: “And he shall speak great words against the most High, and shall wear out the saints of the most High, and think to change times and laws; and they shall be given into his hand until a time, and times, and the dividing of time.” Each of these specifications have been fulfilled by the papacy. It has been a blasphemous and persecuting power, and has reigned the full time assigned to it—1260 prophetic days, that is, literal years. But the point on which it has led the people astray, so as to make necessary a severe test on the commandments of God in the closing up of the great controversy, is the fact that, in the fulfillment of the prediction, it has thought to change the times and laws of God. The papal church claims to have power to ordain feasts and to command them under sin, that is, to make that a sin which was not a sin before. This she claims is proved “by the very act of changing the Sabbath into Sunday.” She claims to have “substituted the observance of Sunday, the first of the week, for the observance of Saturday, the seventh, a change for which there is no Scriptural authority.” This is the language of accredited Roman Catholic writers. They “think” they have changed the law of God, and the great majority of Protestant Christendom accept of, and hold to, the change. Now the meaning of the last warning to mankind can be seen. The beast has thought to supersede the commandments of God by a law of his own. In the dark ages of the world, when the Bible was kept from the people, he succeeded in making them accept the false claim and yield to his dictates. Now, that the Bible has been put into the hands of all the people, God will test the people on his commandments as therein written. Hence the message: “If any man worship the beast,” etc., and, “Here are they that keep the commandments of God.” At the present time this solemn message of warning is spreading over the earth. In almost all the States and territories of this Union, and in almost every country of Europe, besides some in Africa, and in the islands of the ocean, there are those who have returned to the observance of the Sabbath which God commanded. The prophetic words are being fulfilled and the prophetic people are appearing all over the earth. Will the reader be one of the number, and so be prepared for the coming of the Son of man? Across the Atlantic.
By J. N. Loughborough
IN my last article for the Review, I stated that I expected soon to sail for Liverpool in the steamer "Minnesota," of the Warren Line. On Dec. 13 I went to Boston, expecting to sail Wednesday, Dec. 18, at four P. M. Having made my arrangements, I returned to South Lancaster. Near the close of the Sabbath I received a telegram from Mr. O'Hara, the Boston agent of the Warren Line, stating that the Minnesota would take no passengers this trip, but the company would dispatch the Homer on Monday, Dec. 16, with excellent accommodations; and that if we would consent, they would transfer us to the Homer and give us a rebate of $10 on our fare. I replied that evening, accepting the transfer. On Monday, Dec. 16, we went to Boston to set sail. Mr. O'Hara met us at the boat, and stated that the captain of the Homer had now refused to take any passengers this trip. Said he, "The only chance for you now is for us to transfer you to the Williams and Guion Line, New York. They dispatch the steamer Nevada, Tuesday, Dec. 17, at eleven o'clock. If you say so, we will transfer you to that boat, and meet all the expense of the transfer ourselves." After a few moments of prayerful thought, we decided to go. They did as they agreed, although to do so was an expense to them of over $20, as they paid the whole $110 I had paid to them for our tickets on the Nevada. We reached New York at 8:30 A. M., and at 10:30 we were on board the steamer Nevada, which set sail at 11:30 A. M. The steamer Nevada is one of nine ships of the Williams and Guion Line, U. S. mail ships, sailing weekly from New York to Liverpool. The Nevada is a strong-built, iron-bound propeller, 450 feet in length and 50 feet in width. It has berths for 72 first cabin, and cabins for 1071 second-class, passengers. The price of first-class rooms was $75 each person; but after our ship set sail, the steward transferred us to the very nicest room on the ship. In the providence of God, we found ourselves sailing for our English mission from a point about forty yards from the pier from which I sailed June 24, 1868, to enter upon the California mission. For the first hour our course was the same as that on which we started for California. Our prayer went up to God that success might attend this mission in even greater measure than it had attended the California mission. There is but little travel on the Atlantic at this season of the year. On our ship there was but one first class passenger besides ourselves. He was a Mr. Ward from Miraflores, Mexico, on his way to his home near Liverpool, England. Our trip to Liverpool took a little over twelve days. It required more time than usual, not that we met severe storms, but some days the sea was very rough as the result of heavy storms which had passed over a few hours before us. We felt sometimes the force of the hymn, "Let the high-heaving billow and mountainous wave
Fearfully overhead break," as great waves would strike the bow of the ship, going as high as the smoke-stacks and sending their waters to the stern of the ship. Although for the first five days our course was not more than one hundred miles from land, yet we were out of sight of land ten days, and it was a joy to all when we first saw the south coast of Ireland Sabbath morning, Dec. 28. We found our roughest seas in mid-ocean, where the water is supposed to be from two to four miles in depth, and as we entered St. George's Channel the sea became more calm. At three P. M., Sabbath, we touched at Queenstown, Ireland, and at two P. M. Sunday, we landed safely at Liverpool. We passed without trouble and without customs through the custom-house, and arrived at Eustin Station, London, at ten P. M. On Monday, Dec. 30, at nine A. M., we crossed the river Thames to Waterloo station, and at 1:30 P. M., we arrived at Southampton. We soon found our way to the house of Bro. Henry Cavill, Freemantal, Southampton. This godly family were greatly rejoiced to see us, and were ready to receive us to their home with open arms. In a few minutes Bro. Ings came in from his missionary work. Bro. Ings arrived from Switzerland four days before we came. We have felt the presence of God with us at every step, and we realized that thousands of prayers were daily offered with ours at the throne of grace. The providence of God has been with us at every turn, and is still opening the way before us. Praise his name. We have been here now only about twenty-four hours, yet we have succeeded in securing a house, and expect to be settled in house-keeping before next Sabbath, and to take hold of our work as rapidly as possible.
J. N. LOUGHBOROUGH. Deference to Another’s Opinion
ALTHOUGH thy opinion be good, yet if for God's sake thou defer to that of another, it will be more profitable to thee. — Thomas A'Kempis Walter Gordon's Resolution.
By Horatio Alger
Step by step, Walter Gordon had sunk from a position of respectability to that of a confirmed inebriate. When he first commenced visiting the tavern at which liquor was dealt out, he did so with a feeling of shame, which led him to go at a time when he was likely to meet few persons. But as the habit grew upon him, he became more reckless of public opinion. Gradually his income from his business—he was a carpenter—diminished; people being afraid to trust him with commissions, for they would probably have to wait a longer time than was convenient. Walter was a married man. At the age of twenty-five he had united himself to an estimable girl, who, though she brought him little in the way of worldly goods, proved an excellent wife. They had now been married ten years, and had one child, a boy of six. Charley Gordon was a bright, rosy-cheeked boy, with merry ways that might have gladdened any father's heart. Of course their worldly circumstances had been sensibly affected by Mr. Gordon's course. Dollar by dollar, the little hoard in the savings bank had dwindled away. Then commenced the diminution of their domestic comforts. It cost Mrs. Gordon a long fit of weeping, when one day the landlord of the village tavern, a rough man, with neither principle nor refinement, drove up to the door, and on her opening it, announced that he would take the sofa. "The sofa!" exclaimed Mrs. Gordon in amazement. "Certainly! hasn't your husband told you about it?" "Why should he tell me?" inquired the wife, not yet suspecting the truth. "He sold it to me," said the landlord, looking shamefaced, in spite of his brazen effrontery. "And without saying a word to me about it?" "That's his affair, not mine." "What induced him to sell it? how much did you give him for it?" "He was owing me a debt—a matter of fifteen or twenty dollars," muttered the landlord. "And this debt was for rum, I suppose," said Mrs. Gordon, bending her eyes searchingly upon the landlord, like an accusing spirit. "Well, and suppose it was. I suppose it's a debt for all that." "You can take the sofa," said Mrs. Gordon; "it is in that room. But I warn you, John Glover, that the riches you are fast accumulating will bring you no happiness. Ruining your fellow-men is a great price to pay for wealth." "When I want to hear preaching, I can go to church," muttered the landlord, a little uneasy in his conscience at the words of his victim's wife, callous as he had become. A month afterwards, the Gordons moved from this comfortable house which they had hitherto occupied, to a miserable old building which had not been tenanted for a long time, and ought to have been pulled down. But it had fallen into the hands of John Glover, the tavern keeper before referred to, and he had persuaded his victim to hire it. Sad days succeeded the removal. First, the physical discomfort of living in such a miserable shell was not small. It afforded scanty protection against the wind and rain; and this discomfort was increased by the deficiency of suitable furniture. All that was good had gone the same way as the sofa. Not a carpet was left, and but a single stove. So they were obliged to live during the cold season in one room. Walter Gordon, however, was seldom at home. It had long since lost its attractions for him, and he was generally to be found in the bar-room, where the landlord was gracious, and his drunken hilarity and jests were appreciated by the company. It was not quite time for the landlord to break with him. He would defer until his victim was completely ruined, and there was no prospect of his getting any more money from him. One night Walter Gordon had remained in the bar-room longer than usual. He remained until all his companions had slipped off one by one, and he was left alone. He, too, would have gone, had he not fallen into a drunken stupor, which left him half insensible to what was going on. Half insensible, I say, for events proved that was not wholly so. At this time a stranger entered the room, and wished to speak with the landlord apart. "I have no fire elsewhere," said the landlord. "You can speak freely here." "But—" expostulated the stranger, pointing over his shoulder at Walter Gordon, who was reclining on the settee. "Oh, that will make no difference. He's a poor drunken fellow, and is far enough over the bay not to comprehend anything that is going on." "Faugh!" said the other, "I shouldn't think you would harbor such miserable fellows as he." "I shan't much longer," said the landlord carelessly; "I've most cleaned him out, and when I have I shall order him off." With this they proceeded to business, which was of a character not to require further attention. The landlord supposed Walter Gordon was too far gone to hear what he said. Perhaps it would not have troubled him much, if he had known that it was a mistake. Walter Gordon did hear the last words that were spoken, being, as has been said, only half unconscious. He had still manhood enough left to feel them acutely. He had never before felt the full measure of his degradation. Now it was presented to him in a way that was humiliating enough. "So, I'm a poor drunken fellow!" thought he to himself. "That's what the landlord says, and he ought to know, for he made me what I am. And yet, no, I cannot say that, for if I had not given my consent, his efforts would have been powerless." These thoughts ran through Walter's mind. Meanwhile the conversation went on, and he heard Glover express determination to have done with him, after he had cleaned him out. This declaration filled him with secret indignation, and yet it was only what he might have known before. But the landlord's manner had been so smooth and polite, that he never suspected the opinion which he entertained of him. His first impulse was to leave the room, but something restrained him. Without appearing, therefore, to have heard what had been said, he continued to lie quiet for a few moments, then yawning naturally, he staggered slowly to his feet. "Going?" inquired the landlord, in his usual smooth tone, and with his hypocritical smile. "Yes, it's getting late," said Walter. "You won't take another glass for a night-cap, you know?" "No, I won't take anything more to-night," and Walter slowly walked out of the room. He did not hear the landlord's sneer: "The first time I ever knew Gordon to decline drinking. He must have taken an overdose to-night." Out in the fresh air a new spirit seemed to possess Walter Gordon. Reflection had completely sobered him. He looked back at the building from which he had just emerged, and exclaimed in a low, but resolute voice: "I will never drink another glass of liquor in that room, or any other place, so help me God!" It did him good to make that resolution. He felt instantly, he knew not how, a conviction that God would surely help him; and, in spite of his ragged clothes, his destitute family, and miserable prospects, he was cheered by the hope of better things. His wife was awaiting him, not with reproaches, for these she felt would only make matters worse; but with an air of depression which pained him to witness. He wanted to tell her of his new resolution, but decided not to do so, till he could give her some decided proof that it would be carried out in practice. For her part, she did not perceive much difference in his demeanor from that which she usually observed. The next morning, early, Walter Gordon awoke, and left the house, his wife supposed, for the tavern. She was mistaken. He bent his steps to the house of Deacon Holmes. "Deacon Holmes," said Walter Gordon, "I have heard that you are intending to build a barn." "Yes," the deacon replied, "I am thinking of doing so." "Have you engaged any one to build it?" "No," said the deacon, hesitatingly. He anticipated what was coming next, and it embarrassed him. "I am in want of work, and will do it as cheap as any one." The deacon looked down. He was evidently trying to frame a refusal. "I would take care that the work was done well." "Yes. I am aware that you are a good workman, but—" "But my intemperance is an objection, I suppose you would say." "Frankly, now that you have mentioned it, that is an objection—the only one I have—but, as you will admit, I think, a weighty one." "It is; I freely acknowledge it. But, Deacon Holmes, I made a resolution, last night, never to touch intoxicating liquors from henceforth." "Do you think you have strength to abide by that resolution?" said the deacon, eagerly. "Are you willing to sign the pledge?" "I am desirous of doing so," said Gordon. "What, may I ask, led you to form this resolution?" In answer to this question, Walter Gordon detailed to the deacon the particulars with which the reader is already familiar. "And now do you think," he said in conclusion, "that you are willing to trust me with this job?" "I will trust you," he said, heartily, extending his hand to Walter Gordon, "God forbid that I should discourage you in your resolution, by a refusal. Perhaps, however, it will be better to employ you by the day; trusting to you to make the job a short one, since you might find it difficult to get trusted for the timber, if you attempted to procure it on your own responsibility." "Thank you, deacon, for your consideration. I have, I am aware, destroyed my credit. I shall be happy to take it on your own terms. When shall I begin?" "I will order the timber to-day, so that it may be on the ground to-morrow. Meanwhile, I have little jobs around the house, sufficient to occupy you to-day." That evening, Walter Gordon came home at six o'clock, somewhat to his wife's surprise. How much greater was her surprise, when he took from his pocket a two dollar bill, saying kindly: "Clara, you must need some money for household expenses." "Oh, Walter," she said, with tremulous hope at his unwonted action, "can it be that you—" "That I have reformed? With Heaven's help, I think I have, Clara. I shall try to be a better husband in the future." There was joy in the humble home of Walter Gordon that night—the joy of a wife who had found her husband, and of a man who had found himself. When John Glover heard of Walter Gordon's reformation, he laughed incredulously, and said: "I shall have him before the week is out." He was not mistaken. Walter Gordon did call on him before the week was out; but his errand was to say that he was about to vacate his present house, and move into a better one, owned by Deacon Holmes. Three years passed by. At the end of that time, Walter Gordon was well, happy, and prosperous, while the landlord had sunk into a drunkard's grave, which he had prepared for so many others.—H. Alger. DIDEROT says: "The best way to educate a child is to tell it stories, and let it tell stories to you;" but why say that this is the best way, since it could never be made complete, not even practical, within the period usually allotted to a child's so-called education? There is a story of a college student who could call a horse by its name in every known language; yet the stable-boy, who only knew the horse by one name, was familiar with the qualities, disposition, uses, and possibilities of the animal, of which the student knew nothing. Any one kind of educating process would fail in its results, it is likely, and the old-fashioned way of lesson upon lesson, with a never-ceasing accompaniment of oral teaching is about as satisfactory as any plan. And after all the "teaching," the children teach themselves; profound ideas go in at their eyes and their ears, and the first wiseacre with opinions which he obtained without knowing when, how, or where. “Into all lives some rain must fall,”
Into all eyes some tear-drops start,
Whether they fall as a gentle shower,
Or drop, like fire, from an aching heart.
Into all hearts some sorrow must creep,
Into all souls some doubtings come,
Lashing the waves of Life’s great deep
From dimpling waters to seething foam. Over all pathways some clouds must lower,
Under all feet some sharp thorns spring,
Tearing the flesh to bleeding wounds,
Or entering the heart with their bitter sting.
Upon all brows rough winds must blow,
Over all shoulders a cross must be lain,
Bowing the form, in its lofty hight,
Down to the dust in bitter pain. Into all hands is some duty thrust,
Unto all arms some burden given;
Crushing the heart with its dreary weight,
Or lifting the soul from earth to heaven.
Into all hearts and homes and lives
God’s dear sunshine comes streaming down,
Gilding the ruins of life’s great plain—
Weaving for all a golden crown. -Sel. How Shall We Train Our Girls?
AMERICANS always censure that usage which in England gives the titles and estates to the oldest son, and leaves the others too often to shift for themselves, or what is worse, to sit down in mean and beggarly dependence on the favored one. But do not many among us make quite as unjust a distinction between the boys and girls of their families? All Americans, except snobs and simpletons, rear their sons, no matter what their prospects, to some honorable business or profession. But too many train their girls for mere parlor playthings, and defraud them of all chance for honest independence in the days of darkness which may come. There is an insane idea among a certain class, that an idle girl, ignorant of all the useful arts of life, is a lady above her who applies herself to study, and learns to do something thoroughly—who has an aim in life. The hope of such weak parents is that their daughter may make a great marriage, and be the ornament of some elegant home. Will this be less likely if she knows how to order a home, if she is well read, if she is skilled in music, in painting, in writing, or sewing? Will she be less a lady in her own home for having had the training of a sensible woman in her father's house? Suppose this girl never marries—many noble women do not—and that her riches take wings, and the strong arm she has leaned on fails; what is to become of her then? She will be utterly helpless, and will become an unhappy woman, whom the world can lose without missing. The Princess Louise is an artist, and has illustrated the poem which her noble young husband, the Marquis of Lorne, has recently published. There is no royal road to art, and her skill, like that of any other noble woman, is the result of study and labor. Bismarck's daughter is what we in America should call "a capable girl." Besides her accomplishments, she has great skill with her needle, is versed in all the good German home arts, and is possessed of rare good sense and kindly virtues. Let us be done with the nonsense which awards the title "gentlemen" to our sons who work, and denies that of "lady" to any but aimless, useless girls. Let our girls all have a chance for honest independence in this world of many changes.—The Watchman. SOME people are never content with their lot, let what will happen. Clouds and darkness are over their heads, alike whether it rains or shines. To them every incident is an accident, and every accident a calamity. Even when they have their own way, they like it no better than your way, and, indeed, consider their most voluntary acts as matters of compulsion. We saw a striking illustration the other day of the infirmity we speak of, in the conduct of a child about three years old. He was crying because his mother had shut the parlor door. "Poor thing," said a neighbor compassionately, "you have shut the child out." "It's all the same to him," said the mother, "he would cry if I called him in and then shut the door. It's a peculiarity of that boy, that if he is left rather suddenly on either side of a door, he considers himself shut out, and rebels accordingly." There are older children who take the same view of things.—Sel. A GOOD conscience is better than two witnesses—it will consume grief as the sun dissolves ice. It is a spring when you are thirsty, a staff when you are weary, a screen when the sun burns, and a pillow in death. Short Dresses.
By New York Tribune
IN the street costumes of the present season the most noticeable feature is the extreme simplicity of the dresses and the quiet shades, which are so prevalent that a bright color, except it be used in the way of trimmings, is something to be remarked. Short costumes are almost universally adopted; but to be really stylish they must not touch the ground at any point, and should be short enough to show the heels of the boots. This necessitates that careful attention should be bestowed upon the chaussure. The success of these costumes, after so many years of neglect, is truly astonishing. They are the source of so much ease and comfort that they undoubtedly will remain in favor for some time to come. Walking dresses are principally made of woolen fabrics, which, in merit of their durability, softness, and the facility with which they fall into graceful drapery, are rapidly superseding silk for street wear. How to Make the Skin Healthy.
A MAN who has a perfectly healthy skin is nearly certain to be healthy in other respects. In no way can the health of the skin be preserved but by frequent bathing. A daily or tri-weekly bath, accompanied by friction, will keep the skin clean, supple, and vigorous. There is no reason why the whole surface of the body should not be washed as well as the face and hands. The addition of a little soap is necessary to remove the oily secretion deposited upon the skin. A lady of fashion, in enumerating the means for preserving beauty, says: "Cleanliness, my last receipt (and which is applicable to all ages), is of most powerful efficacy. It maintains the limbs in their pliancy, the skin in its softness, the complexion in its luster, the eyes in their brightness, the teeth in their purity, and the constitution in its fairest vigor. To promote cleanliness, I can recommend nothing preferable to bathing. The frequent use of tepid baths is not more grateful to the sense than it is salutary to the health and to beauty. By such means, the women of the East render their skins softer than that of the tenderest babe in this climate." "I strongly recommend to every lady to make a bath as indispensable an article in her house as a looking glass." When the foul matters which ought to be eliminated by the skin and quickly removed from the body are allowed to remain unmoved, the skin becomes clogged and inactive, soon loses its natural luster and color, becoming dead, dark and inactive. When bathing is so much neglected, it is no marvel that paints, powders, lotions, and cosmetics of all sorts, are in such great demand. A daily bath, at the proper temperature, is the most agreeable and efficient of all cosmetics. “We may live without poetry, music and art; We may live without conscience, and live without heart; We may live without friends; we may live without books; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books; what is knowledge but grieving? He may live without hope—what is hope but deceiving? He may live without love—what is passion but pining? But where is the man that can live without dining?” And therefore every one should understand how to dine so as to best preserve health and prolong life. Warning to Girls Who Chew Gum.
THE habit of chewing gum, so popular of late years, has been strongly condemned by physicians, and especially by hygienists because they so well understand the importance of correct habits. It is as disgusting to others as it is injurious to the chewers. The following is well named a warning; but we fear it will not be much heeded, as slaves to filthy habits are not easily induced to break their chains. It is from the St. Louis News of January 10th:-- Late last Saturday evening an incident occurred on Portland avenue that may serve as a warning to hundreds of young persons who have entered upon a career of wax-chewing. A girl named Lida Smith had been a chewer for nearly a year. She is eleven years old, rather bright and intelligent, and chewed about the same quantity of the material that was used by neighboring girls along the avenue. On Saturday evening she took her wax from her mouth, stuck it under the edge of the mantel until she could go to the kitchen to get a swallow of water, and on her return her parents were horrified to see her jaws moving rapidly. She was told to throw the wax from her mouth, and on investigation it was found that she was not chewing anything; still her jaws kept moving at a rapid rate. The parents sent for a physician, who came and attempted to hold the jaw in proper position, believing it to be only temporary, but he could not stop the regular movement. The child grew nervous, and the excitement only increased the action of the jaws. The physician put a tight bandage over her face and this partially relieved the movement, but then the twitching of the muscles extended all over her face. As a last resort a moderate dose of morphine was administered, and the little girl kept up incoherent mutterings, accompanied by a general disturbance of the muscles of the upper portion of the body, during the early portion of the night, and towards morning the little sufferer was restored to her normal condition. The physician says he never heard of such a case before, and thinks it was brought about by a spasmodic action of the muscles of the face, caused by overaction. The little girl after enduring a night of suffering is now restored, but nothing in the world could induce her again to chew wax.