man," "how that he was caught up into Paradise." Of course, this was himself. Indeed he could not know it of some other man. Besides, the connection plainly implies that he was speaking of revelations made to himself. See 2 Cor. 12:1-7. Why then should he speak in this somewhat ambiguous manner, as to who the individual was that was thus caught up? Evidently for the reason, that in this very thing Satan had his chief power of attack. Paul's danger of exaltation, as he here tells us, lay in the matter of these wonderful revelations from the Lord. And so observe how modestly he speaks concerning this dangerous topic. It was a matter of necessity that he should speak of these visions and revelations of the Lord. Yet he might have made this an occasion of sin. His senses were exercised by reason of use to discern the approach of danger. Heb. 5:14. There was no affectation in all this. It was a sense of danger that led him to hide himself when speaking of this matter that Satan had made the special ground of powerful temptation. But why were these revelations granted to Paul? And in particular, why was this wonderful view of the third Heavens and of the Paradise of God opened to him? It does not seem very difficult to answer.
When Paul says that he could not tell whether this man were in the body or out of it, he does not mean to say that he knew not whether he was dead or alive. No, by no means was this the point of doubt. He knew not whether this was a vision or a revelation of the Lord, in the highest sense. Whether the third Heaven was shown him in vision, or whether he was actually transported thither. Ezekiel speaks of himself very much in this manner, Eze. 3:12, 14; 8:3; 11:1, 24; 40:1, 2, 3; and in the book of Acts, we do learn that Philip was caught away bodily from the eunuch, and found at a considerable distance from that place. Acts 8:39, 40. So wonderful was Paul's view that he was not certain that he had not been transported to the third Heaven bodily. He could not, in God's purpose, be translated as was Elijah. He could not then be made immortal, and like him taken thither to abide. But he could have its infinite glory displayed to him, and this was what it pleased God to grant in his case. Now the Lord never does anything without a reason. There was need of these manifestations of the Spirit of God to guide Paul in his most weighty and awful solemn responsibilities. Paul was but a man, though greatly the superior of almost all the children of men. But he needed, in the highest sense, divine guidance. He was sensible of it, and sought it. He walked before God with such fear and trembling that even this wonderful, guiding hand of God could be revealed to him. His own judgment, indeed had to be exercised; but even than sanctified judgment was often far more needed by him in that great work given him to do, and was, therefore, granted him in direct revelations of the Lord.
But this one in particular, of which he here speaks, was evidently granted for his own personal benefit; for he was not permitted to tell what he saw. But there was a wise reason for all this. Paul's own case demanded this great encouragement and support. Probably no other person, with the single exception of "Moses, the man of God," ever bore such burdens, or performed such labors, as did this noble servant of Christ. At the very outset of his ministry the Lord said to Ananias, "I will show him how great things he must suffer for my name's sake." Acts 9:16. And the Holy Spirit witnessed to him in every city that bonds and afflictions did abide him. Acts 20:23. And surely he met them. Read some of them in 2 Cor. 11. No doubt the sustaining grace of God was wonderfully granted to this servant of Christ, yet there was the utmost danger that so great and constant a pressure upon his spirits should destroy their elasticity, and bring deep gloom and discouragement upon his mind. He was but a mortal man. He had a terrible foe with which to contend. He needed help from God. Undoubtedly his lot must at times have seemed hard to him. And there was even danger that he should feel some measure of unreconciliation, or some feeling akin to it, in view of his hard lot. Poor Paul! pressed out of measure above strength, so that he despaired of life. 2 Cor. 1:9, 10.
But how faithful to his servants is their great Master. Paul sought God in prayer. And as he prayed, seeking only submission and reconciliation to the will of God, asking not to have his labors and sufferings abated, but only to have strength to bear his burden, how wonderfully was his prayer answered. The Heaven was opened to him. He was transported to Paradise. He saw what is in reserve for the over-comers. He heard the unspeakable words. He must not tell to others, only in general terms, what he saw and heard. But when he wrote to the Corinthians, in the same epistle, concerning the far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, he knew whereof he wrote. Now he could speak of the sufferings of this present time, as our light affliction that is but for a moment. 2 Cor. 4:17. He was poor Paul no longer. Now he could say, "None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself." Acts 20:24. He no longer held on to the promises of God by a hand almost paralyzed with anguish. He was raised as on the pinions of an angel, above this sharp anguish. He was exceeding joyful in all his tribulations. He was comforted in his afflictions, that he might know how to comfort others. 2 Cor. 1:4.
Though we may not be allowed at present, as was Paul, to look into Paradise; we do know that it is now only a step between us and that place of infinite felicity. Courage, brethren in the Lord. A brief moment of cross-bearing and anguish, and we shall be there. Hold out, faith and patience. There is a reward to the overcomer, and that reward is now, thank God, at hand to be given.
J. N. A
The United States in Prophecy.
By Uriah Smith
The next symbol to engage our attention is the leopard beast of chapter 13, to which the dragon gives his seat, his power, and great authority. It would be sufficient on this point to show to what power the dragon, Pagan Rome, transferred its seat and gave its power. The seat of any government is certainly its capital city. The city of Rome was the dragon's seat. In A. D. 330, Constantine transferred the seat of empire from Rome to Constantinople; and Rome was given up to what? To decay, desolation, and ruin? No; but to become far more celebrated than it had ever before been, not as the seat of pagan emperors, but as the city of St. Peter's successors, the seat of a spiritual hierarchy which was not only to become more powerful than any secular prince, but through the magic of its fatal sorcery was to exercise dominion over the kings of the earth. Thus was Rome given to the papacy: and the decree of Justinian, issued in 533, and carried into effect in 538, constituting the pope the head of all the churches and the corrector of heretics, was the investing of the papacy with that power and authority which the prophet foresaw.
It is very evident, therefore, that this leopard beast is a symbol of the papacy. But there are other considerations which prove this. This beast has the body of a leopard, the mouth of a lion, and the feet of a bear, which shows it to be some power which succeeded those three beasts of Daniel's prophecy, and retained some of the characteristics of them all; and that was Rome. But this is not the first or Pagan form of the Roman government; for that is represented by the dragon; and this is the form which succeeded that, which was the papal.
But what most clearly shows that this beast represents the papacy, is its identity with the little horn of the fourth beast of Daniel 7, which all Protestants agree in applying to the papal power.
1. Their chronology. After the great and terrible beast of Dan. 7, which represents Rome in its first or pagan form, is fully developed, even to the existence of the ten horns, or the division of the Roman Empire into ten parts, the little horn arises. Verse 24. The leopard beast likewise succeeds the dragon which also represents Rome in its pagan form. These powers appear therefore upon the stage of action at the same time.
2. Their location. The little horn plucked up three horns to make way for itself. The last of these, the Gothic horn, was plucked up when the Goths were driven from Rome in 538, and the city was left in the hands of the little horn, which has ever since held it as the seat of its power. To the leopard beast also, the dragon gave its seat, the city of Rome. They therefore occupy the same location.
3. Their character. The little horn is a blasphemous power; for it speaks great words against the Most High. Dan. 7:25. The leopard beast also is a blasphemous power; for it bears upon its head the name of blasphemy; it has a mouth speaking great things and blasphemies; and he opens his mouth in blasphemy against God, to blaspheme his name, and his tabernacle, and them that dwell in Heaven Rev. 13:1, 5, 6.
4. Their work. The little horn, by a long and heartless course of oppression against the saints of the Most High, wears them out; and they are given into his hand. Dan. 7:25. He makes war against them, and prevails. Verse 21. The leopard beast also makes war upon the saints, and overcomes them. Rev. 13:7.
5. The time of their continuance. Power was given to the little horn to continue a "time and times and the dividing of time." Dan. 7:25. A time in Scripture phraseology is one year. Dan. 4:25. (The "seven times" of Nebuchadnezzar's humiliation, Josephus informs us, were seven years.) Times, that is two times, the least that can be expressed by the plural, would be two years more; and the dividing of time, or half a time, half a year; making in all, three years and a half. To the leopard beast power was also given to continue forty-two months, which at twelve months to the year, give us again just three years and a half. And this being prophetic time, a day for a year (Num. 14:34; Eze. 4:6), and there being according to Scripture reckoning thirty days to a month, or three hundred and sixty days to a year (Gen. 7:11, 21; 8:4), we have in each case twelve hundred and sixty years, for the continuance of the little horn and the leopard beast. U. S.
6. Their overthrow. At the end of the time, times, and a half, the dominion of the little horn was to be taken away. Dan. 7:26. At the end of the forty-two months, the same length of time, the leopard beast was also to be slain, politically, with the sword, and go into captivity. Rev. 13:3,10.
These are points which prove not merely similarity, but identity. For whenever two symbols, as in this instance, represent powers that
Come upon the stage of action at the same time,
Occupy the same territory,
Maintain the same character,
Do the same work,
Continue the same length of time,
And meet the same fate,
Those two symbols must represent one and the same power.
And in all these particulars there is, as we have seen, the most exact coincidence between the little horn of the fourth beast of Dan. 7, and the leopard beast of Rev. 13; and all are fulfilled by one power, and that is the papacy. The papacy succeeded to the pagan form of the Roman Empire. It has, ever since it was first established, occupied the seat of the dragon, the city of Rome, building for itself such a sanctuary, St. Peter's, as the world nowhere else beholds. It is a blasphemous power, speaking the most presumptuous words it is possible for mortal lips to utter against the Most High. It has worn out the saints, the Religious Encyclopedia estimating that the lives of fifty millions of Christians have been quenched in blood by its merciless implements of torture. It has continued a time, times, and a half, or forty-two months, or twelve hundred and sixty years. Commencing in 538, when the decree of Justinian in behalf of papal supremacy was first made effectual by the overthrow of the Goths, the papacy enjoyed a period of uninterrupted supremacy for just twelve hundred and sixty years, when its power was temporarily overthrown, and its influence permanently crippled, by the French in 1798.
Can any one doubt that the papacy is the power in question, and that the interpretation of this symbol brings us down within seventy-eight years of our own time? We regard the exposition of the prophecy, thus far, as clear beyond the possibility of refutation; and if this is so, our future field of inquiry lies within a very narrow compass, as we shall presently see.
(To be continued.) U. S.
The Work of God for Our Time.
By Geo. I. Butler
THE work of reform inaugurated in these last days, having as a basis, the "commandments of God and the faith of Jesus," which we term the third angel's message, is an immense work. It consists of nothing less than bringing up the theory and practice of those who will accept it to the apostolic standard in all its breadth, in all its holiness, in all its power. The very thought of such a reform, is startling, and yet I dare not allow my mind to contemplate being satisfied with anything less. I should consider it unsafe in myself, and criminal in regard to others, to set up a lower standard than this.
During the long night of moral darkness which reigned over the church for ages, Satan succeeded in removing, or obscuring, many of the blessed truths which God had revealed to man. The reformers were agents in his hands in bringing back a portion of them to their rightful position. And as a general rule, each of the denominations into which the Protestant world is divided, has some one or more truths which are important. On these they battle and make converts, holding their errors in the background.
It is the province of the work of God in the last days, to group together all these truths, and with others undiscovered before, go forth to prepare a people for Christ's coming. It may seem vain and egotistic to claim this for ourselves. But the message plainly teaches us that just before the Saviour appears on the white cloud to reap the harvest of the earth, a people will be seen keeping the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus. These principles certainly comprehend all the celestial truths of the Bible, and all that I have claimed. The word of God has spoken that such a company do stand on the earth at such a time. This word can never fail. If we are not that people, if we do not perform that work, some others will do it. That power that would cause the stones to cry out, that a prophecy of His might prove true, is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. These words cannot fail. When we realize that Christ left at his departure from this world a church living up to these principles, how reasonable to suppose he would find such an one on his return. The church to which he returns are to go at once to Heaven, to ever remain in his presence. They are to be translated in a moment from mortality to immortality. If there ever was a moment when holiness should be expected, it would be then. The example of those in the past who have been translated proves the same thing. The character possessed at that moment fixes the eternal destiny.
It is a great thing to realize the scope and elevation of the work here suggested. No doubt those who fall out by the way, will fall because they do not realize it. After ages of backsliding and religious apathy, the minds of the people have taken a low level. All the influences around us tend in the same direction. There is a progression in the professed church of God toward the world. The world is fast converting the church, instead of the church converting the world. The practices of to-day among professed Christians would not have been tolerated forty years ago. Pride, fashion, love of pleasure, covetous practices, conformity to the world, a form of godliness without the power, point out with unmistakable certainty the direction in which modern religion is progressing.
Now there must be a progression in the other direction among God's people. Not only must we get back to the standard of forty years ago, but eighteen centuries ago. What a mighty work there is before us! The point we have gained thus far seems about this: The chain of theoretical truth seems most clear to those acquainted with it. It is not difficult to make men who will stop and reason at all, see it, and admit it. But it requires something more than a theory to stem the current of worldliness and sin in these last days. The power of God is what we must have. This will not come from a correct theory alone. It comes from holy living. It comes when we have a submissive heart. It comes when we have a true sense of the worth of God's blessing, and a true sense of our own unworthiness. It comes when we have right views and feelings in reference to the riches of this world, and the eternal riches. In short, it is obtained when the work of true conversion is carried so deep that pride, love of the world, lust, passion, and all this brood of monsters, are expelled from the heart, and truth is wrought in the inward parts, and holiness pervades the whole man. Then the spirit of the great God will reign triumphant, and his mighty power be manifested.
Here is a field then for us to occupy. When our very souls cry out for the living bread, and we long for his sweet blessing as our thirsty souls do for the cooling drink in the heated days of summer, we shall obtain it. God is waiting to be gracious. He is taking us through those trials which he designs shall teach us those lessons most useful to us, that there may be a company prepared through whom God shall wonderfully manifest his Spirit. Then there will be a power sufficient to break down stony hearts, and a mighty work be seen in the earth. How I long to see that day. How I desire to be one of that company who shall stand in the light of Heaven, and see of God's stately steppings. But first the lessons of humility and faithfulness must be learned. Then God will take care of the other.
GEO. I. BUTLER.
The Cost and Worth of Fame.
By Josephine Pollard
For three years I had been a daguerrean artist in the village of N., and during that time I had been as happy as a man can be whose desires are moderate, and whose wheels of life run smoothly. I had a pleasant home, and a mother and sister whose loving care would have made a desert habitable. Besides this, my reputation had gone abroad, and every family in the place and for miles around could boast of a collection of likenesses, of all sorts and sizes, of which I had no reason to be ashamed.
This sort of agency, however, began to be distasteful to me; the sun was the true artist in that line of business, and I could take but little credit to myself. Genius began to assert herself, and try her wings preparatory to a higher flight. I felt there was that within me to which I must give voice and expression. My portfolio was filled with sketches which had elicited praise from strangers as well as friends. I had never attempted much in oil-coloring, although my taste lay in that line, and want of leisure had been the chief impediment. It was a lazy day in August, and the long afternoon had brought me no customers but flies, and the sun had no power to transfix them for any length of time. It was more tolerable in than out of doors, so making myself as comfortable as possible, and having nothing better to do, I fell to dreaming. Raphael, Guido, Titian, and those of ancient and modern days, whose works had been my admiration, wrapped in tinted shrouds, glided before me, and seemed to beckon me to join the throng.
I yielded to a feeling of lassitude, and was borne through halls whose very walls and pavements seemed instinct with life. The sun shone warmly through variegated frames and scattered hues as bright and gay as plumes from Eden birds. The place was odorous with spicy breezes; and through an opening in the roof I had glimpses of a sky whose depths of blue made all else pale by contrast.
Far up toward the dome, my glance, directed by a winged being, fell upon a vacant niche, and as I looked, a hand was writing my name in golden letters bound with crimson. Riveted to the spot, I could not take my gaze from the astounding revelation, for so I fancied it to be. Presently a ladder descended at my feet, and eagerly I prepared to mount it. Every round was studded with sharp nails that penetrated my flesh, causing the blood to flow; yet still I experienced no pain. I had ascended a considerable hight, when turning to look at the niches whose occupants I had outdistanced, gratified pride made me giddy. The strain of my feet weakened the round of the ladder, and I was precipitated to the pavement. The shock, and a sudden rush of cold air roused me completely, and I awoke to find Mattie standing over me in the very act of administering a good shaking.
"Supper's ready, and we've been waiting for you this hour."
It was my sister's voice, surely. The camera stared at me like a Gorgon on stilts, and my beautiful vision faded out, and left me with ambition still unsatisfied, in a room of very small dimensions, and no prospects ahead.
It was easy to say "wait, wait," but it was a difficult thing to restrain my youthful ardor, and with no definite arrangements made, no plan on which to work, I was determined to do something, and that quickly. I thought this over while I was preparing to accompany Mattie home, and on my way there, and during the remainder of the evening, I was working out my problem.
After a night of wakeful restlessness, tormented with a desire to see over the wall that hedged me in so completely, daylight dawned on the natural world, and threw a ray across my obstructed vision. Eureka! Ambition pointed to Rome. That was the way up the ladder; there the germ would develop into the perfect flower. I felt invisible cords drawing me thither. I saw pale hands beckoning me to the haunts of Genius.
My mind was made up, and in order to carry out my design, it was necessary to begin practicing the most rigid economy. There were difficulties in the way, but I was determined to surmount them all. Mother and Mattie agreed to help me in every way, and to show their willingness, even went so far as to take in plain sewing, so that there should be as little demand as possible on my purse. I think it must have been out of sheer goodwill that the villagers took duplicates of their likenesses, and even commissioned me to daguerreotype the scenery of the place. Photographs were as yet unknown. I think they would have brought their horses and cattle to my room, if it had been at all practicable. As it was, I succeeded admirably, and my spirits rose accordingly, as mother's and Mattie's became depressed.
The pictures I drew for them to admire failed to produce the desired effect, for ever in the foreground was the dear son and brother, who was so willing and so anxious to leave them. They had not the heart to repress my inclinations, or to lay a stumbling-block in the way of my advancement in life. Ambition was all to me and I was all to them. Months of ceaseless activity passed, and I was ready to take my departure; and men, women, and children came to take me by the hand and bid me "good speed." They were proud of me then, they should be more proud of me when I returned; and amid tears and blessings, with a hope in my heart that would not be discouraged, I started fame-ward.
Need I describe my sensation on arriving at the Mecca of my pilgrimage? It would be impossible. Such a variety of emotions assailed me I was hardly conscious of my own identity. I walked in dreams. Everything possessed some attraction for me, even the "lazzaroni," who besieged my window nightly, and drove sleep from my pillow, seemed necessary adjuncts to the perfection of the whole. I was an enthusiast. My deity was art, and at her shrine I worshiped with all the ardor of a young devotee.
But there were necessities that required something solid to work upon; whose demands were not to be denied, and they operated against my indulging in the "dolce far niente," of languor-loving Italy.
So to work I went with a will; and realized by the sale of my cabinet pictures, a sum sufficient to meet the wants of the present.
My designs were bold in style, original in conception, and connoisseurs and brother-artists gave me much encouragement. At first I was urged me to still greater efforts. At first there was a tugging at my heart-strings, and irregular, but oft-recurring intervals, the spirit voices of mother, sister, home, were near me, and haunted me with their almost irresistible pleadings. Ruthlessly casting aside these chains that bound me, I took to lotus-eating, and became a selfish pilgrim, with the staff, Art, in my hand, and the goal, Fame, in the distance.
At last the inspiration came that was to lead me up the golden ladder, and already my dream seemed more than half realized. It absorbed me completely, I took no interest in any thing outside of my studio, no thought or feeling beyond my canvas.
Slowly, so slowly, the delicate tints outlined the picture, and every touch sent a thrill through my frame, and made me feel that this should be my master-piece.
How hard I worked that winter! I grew thin, wild-eyed, and anxious; but I was buoyed up by an indomitable will, and a determination to resist every impediment in the way of my progress. I made a martyr of myself, and never knew it. Day in and day out, with the least possible relaxation of body or mind, I spent myself a prodigal to the last.
It stood on my easel completed, and yet how I hated to leave it! I fairly loved the insensate thing that had been my close companion for so many months. It seemed instinct with life, and I hung around it and caressed it with all the fondness of a parent for his offspring.
It was full of beauty to me, but I was a partial judge. The world must be the umpire, and I—had I patience to await the world's decision? As soon as it was noised about that the picture at which I had worked so assiduously was really finished my studio was turned into a reception-room and visited by high and low. I noted its effect upon all; I watched the start of surprise, the appreciating glance, the critical scrutiny; received the congratulations of many, and felt satisfied with the result.
I said I was a lotus-eater. After the completion of my picture the chord which had but responded to the touch of the artist vibrated anew to the home-melody that surged wildly through my being. It was the "Rans aux Vaches" to me, and every hour added to the intense longing to be once more at home.
You know the feeling; how impossible it is to be patient, how every trifle hinders, and how far your heart outruns your footsteps. I had decided to exhibit my chef-d'œuvre in the "Academy of Design" the ensuing season. Already I anticipated the meeting with my mother and Mattie. I had altered so they would never know me, and I pictured to myself the rapturous joy with which they would greet me, and the pride they would feel in my acquired honors.
We landed at the pier, and it seemed an age before I could secure my baggage and attend to the safe transportation of my treasure. The cars lagged fearfully; the engine fairly crawled along the iron way. Above all the din that accompanied us I could hear my heart beating as if it said, "Too late, too late," and it seemed to madden me. I reached my native village late in the afternoon of a sweet June day. I sought my home. A terrible apprehension seized me as I touched the latch of the gate. The presence of an invisible something seemed to hold me where I stood.
Roses clambered up the cottage wall, and their fragrance, though sweet, sickened me. There was the heliotrope I gave to Mattie, the mignonette, mother's favorite, the velvet-leaved pansies, but all so choked up and overgrown with weeds that I had not been familiar with the spot I could never have discerned them. Desolation was written all over my once happy home.
Probably mother and Mattie had removed to a smaller house. I inquired at the next neighbor's, and was stared at as though I had come with a writ of "habeas corpus" which was instantly to be put in execution.
Finally an old man came forward, whom I remembered well as having been one of my patrons some years previous, and with much circumlocution and hesitation of manner he directed me to a certain part of the village.
Thither I went, and being obliged to pass the graveyard I halted to look at the spot where my father was buried ten years before. What was that? A phantasm of a brain surcharged with intense emotions? A dread reality? It cannot be! I jerked open the wicket gate, and with a trembling hand and eyes suffused with tears, spelled out the inscription on the glittering tombstone—"Mary, wife of Jonas —."
I clasped the sod that covered all that was mortal of my mother and sobbed out my agony, longing all the while—oh, how intensely!—for her faithful breast to lean upon.
While I was recovering from my paroxysm into which my grief had thrown me, I heard footsteps advancing, and ere I could calm myself to anything like composure, I felt that some one stood beside me. I arose, half angry at the intrusion on my private sorrow, and stood face to face with Mattie.
I knew her, although she had changed somewhat, and I held her in my arms and thanked God that he had left me something to live for. She had come with flowers for our mother's grave, and she drew herself from me with a laugh and began arranging a wreath.
"Arthur is coming home, you know," she murmured; "he loves flowers, and so does mother. We will be real happy when brother Arthur comes." She went away and left me to watch and wait. It's very tiresome. Every Summer the birds and flowers tell me he's coming. They are pretty cheats."
Heaven defend me! My darling sister insane! This was worse than death. No use telling her her brother had returned; the unconscious look in her eye forbade that. I prayed that the ground might open and ingulf us both and so finish the drama of our lives. But it could not be.
I found the family with whom Mattie made her home, and learned from them what she and my mother had endured through my neglect—trials which physically and mentally had done their work.
I am famous. But love is better than fame. I have won the affection of my sister, over whose weakened brain there comes a dim consciousness of the relationship I bear to her. I find my happiness in making others happy.
When I stand before my picture and drink in the praise that comes to the author through it, and realize the accomplishment of my desires, over the canvas the panorama of my life seems passing, and when I think what I have paid for the bubble I feel that it is not worth the price. —Josephine Pollard.
The Home Circle.
By L. D. A. S.
WHY STAND YE IDLE?
There is work to be done in the vineyard,
There are sheaves to be garnered in,
There are souls to be saved, and the Master saith,
"Go, gather my lambs from the paths of death,
From the broad highway of sin!"
Go, gather them in from the hedges,
Go, gather them young and old.
Go, tell how the Shepherd, in wondrous love,
Is waiting to welcome, in mansions above,
The poor, wayward lambs of the fold.
Then work for the glorious Master,
Oh! why wilt thou longer delay,
When he promises strength if we ask aright,
When his yoke is so easy, his burden light,
And he pledges the best of pay?
The reward shall be life eternal,
With pleasures and joys untold.
Bright mansions in glory shall ever be thine,
And for every soul thou hast saved shall shine
A star in thy crown of gold.
Then work! there is rest hereafter—
How sweet will the resting be,
When forever free from the blight of sin,
Through the pearly gates we are ushered in,
To eat of life's healing tree.
The harvest of earth is ripening,
And we long for the gathering day,
And when with the angels so pure and bright,
The King shall descend from the realms of light,
With joy may we hear him say,
"Thou hast faithfully worked in my vineyard,
Now the home of the just is thine,
Receive for thy labors a rich reward,
For they that turn souls to the pitying Lord,
As bright as the stars shall shine."
L. D. A. S.
Reports from the Field.
By J. G. Matteson
Christiana, Norway.
THE Lord is good; his mercy endureth forever. His loving-kindness is manifested to us, although we are most unworthy. There is a steady growing interest here. The truth is gaining ground. One great reason for this is, in my opinion, that the Lord has many souls in this country. I have never been in any country where I met with so many people who have been more or less moved upon by the Spirit of God. Last Sabbath five dear souls were baptized. This makes in all 51 who have been baptized, and 66 members in the church. About 90 are keeping the Sabbath, and 110 to 130 persons attend our Sabbath meetings. Many are ready to be gathered in by a little labor bestowed.
We have six or seven prayer meetings every week in different parts of the town, and we feel that the Lord is present with us. Yet we do not want to convey the idea that everything goes easy. We have a continual strong opposition to encounter from without, and there is much need of religious training within. Yet as a general thing brethren and sisters here are quite willing to be guided.
Our Sabbath-school is a success. I have not been able before to organize one on the principle of our Sabbath-schools in America, because we have had no Sabbath-school lessons. By the goodness of God, and the kindness of our dear brethren in the distant West, we have now efficient help, and some material with which to work, and this long and deep-felt want is supplied. Our school has now 103 members—3 divisions, 9 classes, and 11 teachers and officers. We are very thankful to our American brethren for the plan, programme, system of reporting, and subject matter of progressive Bible lessons for the different divisions, which we have obtained from them. And although the whole went out from America in the English tongue, it is now on this side of the great ocean made to speak the Danish-Norwegian language in a most intelligent way. The whole seems to be well adapted to this country, and will, from the good beginning in this city, find its way to many other places, by the grace of God.
The tract society is also at work. Sister Huntley asked for reports a short time ago. We had none and no society. Neither did we have the means of starting one that could work successfully, until tracts and papers could be steadily supplied, and at least a publication page of our own sent out with the tracts. How I have longed for this for the last four months. Now we are setting up one in our own new brier type. It will be printed Friday, and soon go out to speak to thousands. The Lord be praised for his goodness.
The tract society is about three weeks old. It numbers some forty members. They take fifty-two copies of Tidernes Tegn, and have obtained a number of new subscribers already. They have bought and mostly distributed and sold 8000 pages of tracts, and now they have bought and paid for 8000 pages more. The brethren show a commendable zeal in this work, and it is bound to spread all through the Scandinavian kingdom.
It may be of interest to mention that two of our brethren were fined by the court, each Kr. 4.00 (1.07), some time ago, for working on a high holy day. The mayor advised them very kindly to petition the king for pardon. They did so, stating that they rested on the Sabbath of the Lord according to the Bible, and needed the other six days to work to supply their families. The king granted their request, and pardon has lately been proclaimed to them by the constable.
The Lord bless his truth and his servants and dear waiting children all over the world, for his name's sake.
J. G. MATTESON.
Aug. 12, 1879.
Good Health.
The Scientific American on Beer.
In a recent issue of that non-political and scientific journal, the Scientific American, we find an article that is worthy a thoughtful consideration by all men:
"For some years past a decided inclination has been apparent all over the country to give up the use of whiskey and other strong alcohols, using as a substitute, beer and bitters and other compounds. This is evidently founded on the idea that beer is not harmful and contains a large amount of nutriment; also that bitters may have some medicinal quality, which will neutralize the alcohol it conceals, etc. These theories are without confirmation in the observations of physicians and chemists, where either has been used for any length of time.
"The constant use of beer is found to produce a species of the degeneration of all the organism, profound and deceptive. Fatty deposits, diminished circulation, conditions of congestion, and perversion of functional activities, local inflammations of both the liver and the kidneys are constantly present. Intellectually a stupor amounting almost to paralysis arrests the reason, changing all the higher faculties into a mere animalism, sensual, selfish, sluggish, varied only with paroxysms of anger that are senseless and brutal. In appearance the beer drinker may be the picture of health, but in reality he is almost incapable of resisting disease. A slight injury, severe cold, or shock to the body or mind, will commonly provoke acute disease, ending fatally. Compared with inebriates who use different forms of alcohol he is more incurable, and more generally diseased. The constant use of beer every day gives the system no time for recuperation, but steadily lowers the vital forces. It is our observation that beer drinking in this country produces the very lowest forms of inebriety closely allied to criminal insanity.
"The most dangerous class of tramps and ruffians in our large cities are beer drinkers. It is asserted by competent authority that the evils of hereditary are more positive in this class than from other alcoholics. If these facts are well founded, the recourse to beer as a substitute for other forms of alcohol, merely increases the danger and fatality.
"In bitters we have a drink which can never become general; its chief danger will be in strengthening the disordered cravings, which latter will develop a positive disease. Public sentiment and legislation should comprehend that all forms of alcohol are more or less dangerous when used steadily."
Denmark.
By J. G. Matteson
Bro. Jasperson reports some progress in Denmark. He says Bro. K. Brorson has worked with zeal and patience, and he has gained a number of souls for the truth. He has held meetings in many different places, and visited the people from the western to the eastern coast of the country. He has gained many hearts by thus conversing with them about the truth in their homes, and supplying them with tracts and papers.
These brethren are now laboring together. Two new churches have been organized, one in Hellum, and one in Asaa. In the former place there are twelve members. Bro. Madsen was chosen and ordained elder. They rejoiced much in the Lord as they partook of the ordinances. The meeting continued Sabbath afternoon from 2 till 8 o'clock, and still they were loth to part. A number of brethren and sisters from other places were with them. The light of Tabor shone among them.
In Asaa are fifteen Sabbath-keepers. Two were baptized. Eight united in church fellowship, and the rest will soon join them. Others are interested in the truth. Bro. C. Christensen was appointed elder. They are good Christian souls, and love the truth. These, with the two above mentioned, make in all four churches in Vensyssel (Northern Denmark). May the Lord bless the cause in Denmark. J. G. Matteson.