ST. LAWRENCE CO.—Immediately after the State Quarterly Meeting, and the dedication of the new church in Rome, Bro. Jacob Wilbur commenced to labor in this county. After visiting the friends in Gouverneur, whom he found prospering in the Lord, by special request he went to Hailesborough, where he obtained the Union church and held a few meetings. But owing to the cold weather and the fact that the people had lately been duped by a popular preacher from the State of Maine, the attendance was quite small, and they concluded to waive their meetings until a more favorable opportunity presented itself. Dec. 12, he attended the monthly meeting at Pierrepont. Notwithstanding the thermometer stood from twenty to thirty degrees below zero, the attendance from the surrounding country was good. From this place, in company with Bro. Wilcox, he went to North Gouverneur; but as there were several cases of small-pox in the vicinity they soon started for Rossie. Here they spent four days and held seven meetings. As the result eight converts came out fully. A class of fourteen was organized and on Christmas day one of the best meetings was enjoyed. Nearly as many more acknowledged the truth and have opened their doors for meetings.
Kentucky.
POWDER MILLS.—The quarterly meeting at this place, Dec. 23, 24, is reported by Eld. S. Osborn as being the best meeting ever held in the State. He says: “The Lord gave much liberty in preaching on practical duties. Confessions were made for their past slackness and sinfulness, and resolutions were made for the future. Their broken accents and streaming eyes told they were in earnest.” “Considering the hard times, the brethren have done nobly this season in sustaining the cause. Over twenty-five new Sabbath-keepers are added to our number. We have sold over $150 worth of books, obtained a good many subscribers for our periodicals, and, above all, we are in perfect union in the truth and in practice.”
Minnesota.
WEST PORT.—Bro. W. B. Hill reports that six have commenced to keep the Sabbath here, as the result of five weeks’ labor. The interest was good throughout, and many are still investigating.
Kansas.
CHEROKEE.—Eld. J. H. Cook says that “although the people here are very poor they appear ready to hear and obey the truth. Not being able to buy books, they as yet depend almost entirely on the preached word. Hence the work goes slowly, and requires patience and perseverance. But the poor have the gospel preached to them.”
Indiana.
PERRYSBURG.—Bro. A. Bartlett who has been laboring in this vicinity some time reports that twenty-five good substantial persons have commenced to keep the Sabbath. May this little company ever remain steadfast in the truth.
Wisconsin.
FISH CREEK.—Elder John G. Matteson speaks of this church as follows: “The members of the church are making some progress. We labor to get right on all points; yet this is a great work. Here are about fifty who have been baptized and signed the covenant. Like many others they thought that they had taken a great step; and so they had. But they did not feel any particular need of going further. Some were exceedingly self-righteous, others slack and careless, others vain. We are trying to be purified from vanity, carelessness, pride, the use of tobacco, and all sinful practices.”
Sweden.
Last in our column of reports, but not the least cheering, is the news of the spread of the truth among the Swedes. Bro. G. A. Carlstedt, who has charge of the work on the Svensk Advent Harold, our Swedish paper published at Battle Creek, Mich., gives extracts from several letters received at the Herald office from various parts of the United States and Sweden. We take as follows:—
“One person that does not keep the Sabbath yet writes from Iowa that he regards our publications as the best Swedish religious literature he has seen.
“A letter came from Stockholm, Sweden, two days ago, wherein the writer says that he by chance got hold of the October number of the Svensk Advent Harold for 1876, and it interested him so that he sends for the paper and all our Swedish publications and five of our Swedish charts. He wants to circulate them in Stockholm.
“Another writing from Skane (the south part of Sweden) says that he has taken the Svensk Advent Harold and tracts sent him, and gone out with them among the people, and they accept them with readiness and read them eagerly.”
THE TEACHINGS OF PAUL
By C. W. Stone
IS THE SOUL IMMORTAL?—NO. 15.
THE TEACHINGS OF PAUL.
AFTER noticing one more of Paul's peculiar expressions, which is the only remaining one of any note that our friends care to appropriate, we will examine some of his positive statements upon the subject. In Phil. 1: 23, 24 it is recorded: “For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better; nevertheless to abide in the flesh is more needful for you.”
In the 20th verse Paul expresses his determination that Christ shall be magnified in his body, whether it be by life, or by death. If he lives, he is bound to preach Christ; and if he is to be martyred, even in that he will honor Christ. Therefore, “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain;” or, For me to live is Christ, gain for his cause, or for me to die is Christ, gain for his cause, for in my death will I magnify him. Compare verses 20 and 21.
In verse 23, he says he is in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; but he thinks (verses 24, 25, 26), that it would be more needful for the Philippians that he should live, that he might further them in the faith, and that they might be made to rejoice more abundantly in Christ by receiving another visit from him. But what about departing and being with Christ? Does not the expression prove that Paul expected to go right to Heaven at his death, and consequently that he possessed an immortal soul? Not at all. The manner in which Paul speaks of those two events proves nothing either way.
He desires to depart, and to be with Christ, but it does not necessarily follow that he expected to be with Christ immediately upon his departure. If it can be proved by other scriptures that a person goes to Heaven at death, then, it is true, this statement of Paul's comes in all right; but if it cannot be thus proved, and can be proved by other texts that a man does not go to Heaven at death, then this text comes in just as logically as before, and we have only to observe that Paul, in the expression of his desire to be with Christ, does not take into account the time spent in the grave, but passes over it from death to the resurrection.
And why should he not do so? If the dead are unconscious, do they realize the passing of time? If Abel is unconsciously sleeping, when he awakes how much time will seem to him to have passed since Cain dealt him that murderous blow? Not a moment. He will look around him for the altar on which his offering was made; he will expect to see his angry brother near, with rage still unappeased, but the altar has disappeared, and Cain is not to be seen. Not long is he allowed to wonder, for he beholds the glory of the Son of God, and the angels escort him, with all the righteous, to the everlasting gates of the New Jerusalem. It will seem to him that he has just arisen from that stunning blow, and until he is informed and has time to take in the facts, he will be unable to believe that centuries have passed while he has been sleeping in the grave.
When the saint awakes on the resurrection day, he will have no knowledge of the time that has passed; but it will seem to him that a momentary faintness has shut from his vision the weeping friends around his bedside, and he wonders for an instant how the scene has so quickly changed. His bewilderment is brief, for he feels the change in himself; he sees the grave that has held him, and recognizing that dear voice that he expected sometime to hear, he is caught up amid shouts of victory over the grave, to meet his Saviour in the air, and to go in with the righteous nation to the marriage supper of the Lamb.
When Paul shall come again from the land of the enemy, it will seem to him that he has just escaped from the ax of the executioner, and to him it is simply to depart and be with Christ.
Now how would a man who understood this fact in all its reality, in addressing a people who also understood the doctrine, be likely to speak of the two events, death and the resurrection? If he wished to touch the idea of slumbering for ages in the grave, or give instruction upon that fact, he would, of course, be explicit; but if he were only speaking of the Christian's experience, of what he expected to realize himself, he would just simply ignore that unconscious interval, and look right over to the meeting with his Saviour.
But some meet us here with the question, Why should Paul be anxious to depart, since he would be with Christ just as soon if he had lived a hundred years longer? Those who ask such a question can readily see how a person could be with Christ sooner by dying earlier if the soul should go right to heaven at death. We have already demonstrated that, to the individual, it is the same, as far as his knowledge of time extends, as if he were ushered into the presence of Christ at death. Therefore if Paul could be excused from living another six months, it would really seem to him that he should see his Lord six months the sooner for it, and to him the time really would be shortened just six months.
Paul's language in Phil. 1: 23, has reference to the intermediate state, and throws no light at all on just that point which our opponents wish to prove by it. As in 2 Cor. 5: 4, Paul did not desire the unclothed state (condition of death), but rather desired the immortal state following it, so here he looks over the unconscious condition of death as being but the little moment of which Isaiah speaks (Isa. 26: 20), and desires to be with Christ. That this is his meaning we will prove conclusively in our next, by showing when he expected to be with Christ, from absolute statements of his.
C. W. STONE.
Covetousness.
By Mrs. Julia McNair Wright
THE whole manner of Achan’s crime showed that covetousness was a habit with him. He was so secret, so wary, so persistent, so utterly obstinate, about his deed.
As he went up, sword in hand, over the prostrate wall, he came to the dwelling of a great man of Jericho, perhaps even to the palace of the king. The greedy eye of Achan was alert for plunder. He had not laid it to heart that Jericho was accursed, and all its gold and silver were consecrated to the Lord, and were to be brought into the sanctuary, purged by fire, and converted to sacred use.
The wealth of Jericho was the gain of vice and oppression. Its treasures were sacred to Baal and Ashtaroth; now the wrath of man was to redound to the glory of the God of Heaven, and the spoils of the idols were to decorate the sanctuary of the Kings of kings.
Looking eagerly about him, keeping guard neither over his eyes nor the lusts of his heart, Achan saw a noble trophy. Before him lay a right royal robe, a Babylonish garment. Even when he is about to die for its sake, it is so precious in his eyes that, with a miser’s relish, he calls it “a goodly Babylonish garment.” “It was,” says Josephus, “woven entirely of gold, fit for a king.” Near this garment were two hundred shekels of silver, probably in some wrought purse or bag, and a wedge of gold, in weight, fifty shekels.
Achan loved the golden garment, the silver shekels, and the shining wedge for themselves. He at once appropriated them to his own use, and made all speed to his tent to hide them. His family, as we learn from the sequel, were like-minded with himself. They shared his doom; and, as God is just, it is evident that they shared his crime. A trench was dug in the earth under the tent of Achan, and there they hid away God’s property, the consecrated first-fruits of the spoils of Canaan.
Achan had plenty of time to deliberate, to repent, to make restitution, but he had no idea of doing either; he gloated over his booty.
Before long, he began to see the effect of his sin, for his people were smitten at Ai; and instead of coming again in triumph, the defeated army returned, rending the air with their cries, and bringing the dead bodies of thirty-six warriors.
Shame and confusion of face were Israel’s portion. In thirty-six tents the wailing women took up the lamentations for the dead. The “hearts of all the people melted and became as water.”
Joshua, with torn garments and disheveled locks, lay weeping on his face before the ark of God.
The seventy elders of Israel put dust on their reverend heads, and refused to be comforted.
Achan knew why this blow had fallen; he saw the chiefs of his own tribe, Nahshon and Zabdi, lamenting thus before offended God, and he knew well that the root of all this bitterness was golden, and planted in the earth in the midst of his tent. Still he did not repent. “It was open to him to confess and to restore; but no, he valued his treasure more than the lives and happiness of his people, more even than the fate of his nation.”
His sin cannot be hidden, and God becomes his accuser. The meaning of the disaster is made plain: There is a sinner in Israel.—“Saints and Sinners of the Bible,” by Mrs. Julia McNair Wright.
The Mother of the Wesleys.
The Lutheran Observer prints the following interesting extract from a letter on family government, written by the mother of Rev. John Wesley, at his urgent solicitation. It contains food for thought:—
DEAR SON:—According to your request, I have collected the principal rules I observed in educating my family. The children were always put into a regular method of living, in such things as they were capable of, from their birth. When turned a year old, they were taught to fear the rod, and to cry softly, by which means they escaped much correction, which they otherwise might have had, and that most odious noise of the crying of children was rarely heard in the house. As soon as they grew pretty strong, they were confined to three meals a day. They were suffered to eat and drink as much as they would, but not to call for any thing. If they wanted aught, they used to whisper to the maid. As soon as they could handle a knife and fork, they were set to our table. They were never suffered to choose their food. Eating between meals was never allowed, unless in cases of sickness, which seldom happened; nor were they suffered to go into the kitchen to ask any thing of the servants when they were at meat. If it was known they did so, they were certainly punished. At six, as soon as family prayer was over, they had their supper. At seven, the maid washed them, and beginning at the youngest, she undressed and got them all to bed by eight, at which time she left them all in their several rooms awake, for there was no such thing allowed in our house as sitting by a child until it fell asleep.
In order to form the minds of children, the first thing to be done is to conquer their will. To inform the understanding is a work of time, and must with children proceed by slow degrees, but the subjecting of the will is a thing that must be done at once, and the sooner the better; for, by neglecting timely correction, they will contract a stubbornness and obstinacy which are hardly ever conquered. In the esteem of the world they pass for kind and indulgent, whom I call cruel, parents, who permit their children to get habits which they know must be afterwards broken.
When the will of a child is subdued, and it is brought to revere and stand in awe of its parents, then a great many childish follies and inadvertencies may be passed by. But no willful transgression ought ever to be forgiven children without chastisement, less or more. I insist upon conquering the will of children betimes, because this is the only strong and rational foundation of a religious education, without which both precept and example will be ineffectual. But when this is done, the child is capable of being governed by the reason and piety of its parents, till its own understanding comes to maturity, and the principles of religion have taken root in the mind. I cannot yet dismiss this subject. As self-will is the root of all sin and misery, so whatever cherishes this in children, insures their wretchedness and irreligion. Whatever checks and mortifies it, promotes their future happiness and piety. This is still more evident, if we further consider that religion is nothing else than doing the will of God, and not our own; that the one grand impediment to our temporal and eternal happiness being this self-will, no indulgence of it can be trivial, no denial unprofitable. Heaven or hell depends on this alone, so that the parent who studies to subdue it in his child, works together with God in the renewing and saving of a soul. The parent who indulges it, does the Devil's work, makes religion impracticable, salvation almost unattainable, and does all that in him lies to damn his child for ever. Our children were taught the Lord's prayer as soon as they could speak. They were early taught to distinguish the Sabbath from other days. They were taught to be still at family prayers, and to ask a blessing immediately after meals, which they used to do by signs, before they could kneel or speak. They were quickly made to understand that they should have nothing they cried for.
Bread Upon the Waters.
“Ah! Jacob, now you see how all your hopes are gone. Here we are, worn-out with age—all our children removed from us by the hand of death, and ere long we must be the inmates of the poor-house. Where now is all the bread you have cast upon the waters?”
The old, white-haired man looked up at his wife. He was, indeed, bent down with years, and age sat tremblingly upon him. Jacob Manfred had been a comparatively wealthy man, and while fortune had smiled upon him he had ever been among the first to lend a listening ear and a helping hand to the call of distress. But now misfortune was his. Of his four boys not one was left. Sickness and failing strength found him with but little, and had left him penniless. An oppressive embargo upon the shipping business had been the first weight upon his head, and other misfortunes came in painful succession. Jacob and his wife were all alone, and gaunt poverty looked them coldly in the face.
“Don’t repine, Susan,” said the old man. “True we are poor, but we are not yet forsaken.”
“Not forsaken, Jacob? Who is there to help us now?”
Jacob Manfred raised his trembling finger toward heaven.
“Ah! Jacob, I know God is our friend, but we should have friends here. Look back and see how many you have befriended in days long past. You cast your bread upon the waters with a free hand, but it has not returned to you.”
“Hush, Susan, you forget what you say. To be sure I may have hoped that some kind hand of earth would lift me from the cold depths of utter want; but I do not expect it as a reward for anything I may have done. If I have helped the unfortunate in days gone by, I have had my full reward in knowing that I have done my duty to my fellows. Oh! of all the kind deeds I have done to many suffering fellows, I would not for gold have one of them blotted from my memory. Ah! my fond wife, ’tis the memory of the good done in life that makes old age happy. Even now, I can hear again the warm thanks of those whom I have befriended, and again I can see their smiles.”
“Yes, Jacob,” returned the wife, in a lower tone, “I know you have been good, and in your memory you can be happy; but, alas! there is a present upon which we must look—there is a reality upon which we must dwell. We must beg for food or starve!”
The old man started, and a deep mark of pain was drawn across his features.
“Beg!” he replied, with a quick shudder. “No, Susan, we are—”
He hesitated, and a big tear rolled down his furrowed cheek.
“We are what, Jacob?”
“We are going to the poor-house!”
“O God! I thought so!” fell from the poor wife’s lips, as she covered her face with her hands. “I have thought so, and I have tried to school myself to the thought; but my poor heart will not bear it!”
“Do not give up,” softly urged the old man, laying his hand upon her arm. “It makes but little difference to us now. We have not long to remain on earth, and let us not wear out our last days in useless repinings. Come, come.”
“But when—when—shall we go?”
“Now—to-day.”
“Then God have mercy on us!”
“He will,” murmured Jacob.
That old couple sat for awhile in silence. When they were aroused from their painful thoughts it was by the stopping of a wagon in front of the door. A man entered the room where they sat. He was the keeper of the poor-house.
“Come, Mr. Manfred,” he said, “the selectmen have managed to crowd you into the poor-house. The wagon is at the door, and you can get ready as soon as possible.”
Jacob Manfred had not calculated the strength he should need for this ordeal. There was a coldness in the very tone and manner of the man who had come for him that went like an ice-bolt to his heart, and with a deep groan he sank back in his seat.
“Come, be in a hurry,” impatiently urged the keeper.
At that moment a heavy covered carriage drove up to the door.
“Is this the house of Jacob Manfred?”
This question was asked by a man who entered from the carriage. He was a kind-looking man, about forty years of age.
“That is my name,” said Jacob.
“Then they told me truly,” uttered the newcomer. “Are you from the almshouse?” he continued, turning toward the keeper.
“Yes.”
“And are you after these people?”
“Yes.”
“Then you may return. Jacob Manfred goes to no poor-house while I live.”
The keeper gazed inquisitively into the features of the stranger, and left the house.
“Don’t you remember me?” exclaimed the newcomer, grasping the old man by the hand.
“I cannot call you to my memory now.”
“Do you remember Lucius Williams?”
“Williams?” repeated Jacob, starting up and gazing earnestly into the stranger’s face.
“Yes, Jacob Manfred—Lucius Williams, that little boy whom, thirty years ago, you saved from the house of correction; that poor boy whom you kindly took from the bonds of the law, and placed on board one of your own vessels.”
“And are you—”
“Yes—yes, I am the man you made. You found me a rough stone from the hand of poverty and bad example. It was you who brushed off the evil, and who first led me to the sweet waters of moral life and happiness. I have profited by the lesson you gave me in early youth, and the warm spark which your kindness lighted up in my bosom has grown brighter and brighter ever since. With an affluence for life I have settled down to enjoy the remainder of my days in peace and quietness. I heard of your losses and bereavements. Come, I have a home and a heart, and your presence will make them both warmer, brighter, and happier. Come, my more than father—and you my mother, come. You made my youth all bright, and I will not see your old age doomed to darkness.”
Jacob Manfred tottered forward and sank upon the bosom of his preserver. He could not speak his thanks, for they were too heavy for words. When he looked up again he sought his wife.
“Susan,” he said, in a choking, trembling tone, “my bread has come back to me!”
“Forgive me, Jacob.”
“No, no, Susan. It is not I who must forgive—God holds us in his hand.”
“Ah!” murmured the wife, as she raised her streaming eyes to heaven, “I will never doubt him again.”
Not Very Good, and Not Very Bad.
“From what you have said, John, it seems you think yourself a fair kind of man.”
“Well, Mr. F——, I will tell you my opinion about that exactly. I don’t think I ever did much that was bad; nor can I say that I ever did a great deal of good. I think you may call me a middling man.”
“That is your opinion, John. But don’t you think that everything that exists must have had a cause from which it sprung?”
“Certainly I do, Mr. F——, for old John is not so void of sense as not to know that.”
“Well, John, what do you suppose causes a man to be good?”
“God, of course, sir.”
“And what do you think causes a man to be bad?”
“The devil, most certainly; for God never made anything bad.”
“But, John, what is the cause of a middling man?”
“W-e-ll, I sup-p-o-s-e—”
“John, I perceive you have got fast there. You say God is the cause of a good man, and Satan is the cause of a bad man, but you say you are neither! You are middling. Doubtless, John, you must have had a cause that made you what you are.”
“But as there is no middle being between God and Satan, and only the two revealed causes of good and evil in man, then I am at an exceedingly great loss to know what has been the great moral cause that made you middling.”
“Why, sir, I have heard a great many folks like me saying that they were middling, that is, neither good nor bad; but, really, when I think of the matter in the way you put it, I begin to be somewhat doubtful whether I am right. Yet, I assure you, sir, I do not think I should be called a very bad man.”
“John, did you ever see a middling gold dollar? Or did you ever see a middling bank-note?”
“No, never, Mr. F——; they are always either good or bad. But I have known some bad ones to pass for good ones.”
“Well, John, if you never saw middling money, you never saw middling men; that is, as before God. God is a being of perfect holiness, infinite purity, and he judges according to a perfect standard. To be accepted of him we must be perfectly fitted for his approval. He cannot adopt middling men, and call them good. You must be either righteous or unrighteous—either saint or sinner. A middling man has no existence in God’s sight. So, friend John, I want you, when you go home, to think seriously on this matter. You cannot serve two masters. At this moment you are either serving God or Satan. You cannot be a middling man. You have no middling cause, no middling life, no middling death, and no middling destiny!”
Reader, as I have said to John, so I say to you. You are, at this moment, either good or bad, righteous or unrighteous, in God’s sight. You cannot be middling. You are either a child of God or a servant of the wicked one. You are pardoned or unpardoned. You are either a subject of God’s grace, or you are under his condemnation.—Child’s Banner.
Resignation.
FATHER, I have learned to trust,
And feel at length that thou art just
To take away
Each staff and stay
Which hindered me
From trusting thee.
I now resign
My will to thine.
Not till I found myself forsaken,
And all I clung to most was taken—
Of friends bereft,
Till few were left—
Could I look up,
Accept the cup,
And calmly say,
Be thou my stay.
Now with confiding love I rest
Upon my precious Saviour’s breast,
And feel that he
My friend will be
Through all the strife
And toils of life.
With Jesus near
I need not fear.
Yes, I have fully learned at last
On him my every care to cast;
My dearest friends
Are in his hands.
I’ll trust his care,
And leave them there;
Say, “Peace, be still!”
And wait his will.
—Watchman and Reflector.
THE CHILDREN OUT OF THE WAY.
“I wish my children were large enough to be out of my way,” said a mother; “they are so much trouble.”
Children are a trouble sometimes; but is not their company more pleasure than all the trouble they make? Does not their innocent prattle drive away many a dark cloud from a mother’s brow? When she sees her little son or daughter come to her with its sweet, smiling face, and reach up its little arms and put them round her neck, is she not abundantly repaid? Little children grow up, and get out of the way—but too often to their mother’s sorrow.
As a young woman said not long ago, “I do not love my mother.” “Why?” “Because she never loved me.”
The same mother afterwards said, “I do not care for my daughter.” “Why?” “She does not care for me.”
Who ought to care first—the mother or the daughter? Mothers, sow the seed of love in the early spring of life in your children’s hearts; then love will grow with them, and they will not be “out of the way” in time of need.
Meditation Is Prayer’s Handmaid
MEDITATION is prayer's handmaid, to wait on it, both before and after the performance. It is as the plow before the sower, to prepare the heart for the duty of prayer, and the harrow to cover the seed when 'tis sown. As the hopper feeds the mill with grist, so does meditation supply the heart with matter for prayer:—Gurnall.
Does Diet Affect Character?
By George Ide Butler
This question is important. If it be answered in the affirmative, the diet question cannot be confined to physiology alone, but is manifestly connected with morals and religion. There is no object of greater importance to our well-being here and hereafter than the attainment of a good moral character. This should be the great aim of life to all. If we are in the daily practice of habits that render the accomplishment of this object more difficult, it should be a matter of interest to us to ascertain the fact; for, in this wicked world, we need help in the right direction, and not hinderances.
There is an opinion largely prevailing that what we eat has no perceptible effect upon the mind, and this is one reason why so many honest Christian people take so little interest in a reform in diet. It seems to them a matter of minor importance. It is just this class of people whose influence the health reform needs; and they also need the benefit of it. Sober, conscientious men and women of common sense, who will act with reason and good judgment, we desire to reason with on this question.
To make the matter very simple and plain, we will commence with alcohol in its various preparations. Who does not know that the habitual use of this debases the moral powers? How many instances do we have of men of noble and generous natures rendered beastly and almost devilish by its use. The change is stamped on the very countenance. When the mind is constantly under the influence of this stimulant, it is almost impossible to affect it by any appeal to moral principle. The course is downward. The lower order of faculties, the appetites and passions, are rendered stronger while the moral powers are weaker. The modus operandi I leave to the scientific man to describe. But the effect is too well known to be disputed. The effect of constant stimulation seems to be to throw the mind out of its proper balance, and increase the strength of the lower propensities. If this be a fact, and I think none will dispute it, will not stimulating substances of any kind work toward the same result? No doubt the effect of alcohol in this respect is more marked than anything else, yet I believe we can see something of the same principle in operation elsewhere.
I verily believe a large portion of our city population owe a share of their vicious propensities to their habits of life. Dwelling in dirty tenement-houses, half deprived of the light and pure air of heaven, stupified in tobacco, strong coffee, and beer, eating largely of pork and grease, they live an abnormal life. Their main pleasure is the gratification of the appetites and propensities. An appeal to their moral faculties often meets about as much response as would an appeal to a Digger Indian; and who will deny that these habits of life have any effect upon his character?
Such cases are not all confined to the cities. They are to be seen in all directions. Whole nations of the earth are affected by these influences. Take an intelligent book of travels and read of the domestic habits of the Asiatic and African nations, and you will soon see the relation between diet and character.
I do not believe there are many exceptions to this world-wide relation. Is there not a connection between the diet of the blood-thirsty Abyssinian who takes the bleeding flesh from the ox warm and raw, and devours it like the wild animal, and his well-known character for cruelty and ferocity? Is it not a well-known fact that those given to licentious practices fire up their languid passions by oysters and various kinds of highly seasoned food? Does not the prize fighter when preparing to engage in the brutal contest, live almost wholly on flesh-meat? Will not a dog fed wholly on flesh become much more savage than one that has not? Many more such questions might be asked, admitting of but one reply. I think enough has been said to show that there is a very plain connection between diet and character. If this is so, shall those virtuously inclined be less interested in the matter than those viciously inclined? Shall we consider it a matter of indifference whether we summon to our aid all the help we can get, or have to labor hard to counteract evil habits of living? Let us be wise to do good.
I believe God gave man the best diet when he placed him upon the earth in a state of innocency, that which would insure the best results. He certainly had a care for his moral well-being, as well as for his physical. He says, “Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.” Gen. 1:29.
When God brought his chosen people, Israel, forward to the land of promise, he showed his preference for the same kind of diet. The result was good: “There was not a sick one in all their tribes.” When the prophet Daniel was placed under the corrupting influence of the kingly courts, he had sense enough to look above the present gratification to future well-being; and at a special trial of ten days’ duration, between those who partook of a stimulating, luxurious diet, and those who chose a temperate, vegetable diet, he came out “fairer and fatter in flesh than all the children which did eat of the portion of the king’s meat.” A long life of health, of usefulness, with a clear mind, attest that the trial of ten days was a piece of the same whole.
Many instances might be adduced from history in the lives of some of the greatest men who have ever lived, that would show that God’s original plan has produced the best results morally, as well as physically. I am not an extremist in these things, but feel bound to say that by reflection, observation, and experience, I have become satisfied that the great principles of temperance embodied in the health reform have an important relation to moral character.
GEO. I. BUTLER.
SECULAR NEWS.
—The Grand Duke Alexis, of Russia, is accompanying a Russian fleet to this country.
—A change in the occupancy of every other European throne has been made since Queen Victoria became a sovereign.
—“It now seems beyond doubt” says the London Examiner, “that the area of the present famine in India will greatly exceed that of three years ago.”
—London hospitals contained 859 small-pox patients on Saturday last. About 200 cases were refused admission during the week, all available beds being occupied.
—During the last year there was a net increase of population by immigration to this State of 30,000. Nearly one-half less than in 1875.
—The Chinese in San Francisco have petitioned for the privilege of celebrating their New Year, Feb. 12 to 17, in accordance with their time-honored custom of using firecrackers and Chinese bombs.
—The Suez Canal has wrought a wonderful change in the meteorological conditions of the country through which it passes. Previous to 1870, rain fell in that region only once in a year. Now it falls at least twice a month.
—During the past year 551 prisoners were received at the State Prison in San Quentin, and 308 were discharged; 21 were pardoned by the governor and one by the president. On Dec. 31st there were 1196 convicts in the prison.
—Three tons of clothing have thus far been sent to the field by the London Servian Relief Committee. There are said to be more than 250,000 refugees in a state of nearly complete destitution—the result of the brief war between Turkey and Servia.
—The Viceroy of Egypt is going to discard his American officers. Presumably this is due to English influence. Rather a roundabout way, one might think, of defeating American soldiers. So soon after the Lexington and Bunker Hill anniversaries, too!—Christian Union.
—It is said that over $50,000 have been contributed in aid of the Brooklyn sufferers, or more than $700 for each man, woman and child that has asked aid. They are not all likely to get that sum, however, for already there is talk of devoting a portion of the fund to a useless monument.
—The physicians and hygienists of St. Petersburg, Russia, propose to form a hygienic society. It is stated that the subject of hygiene is receiving considerable attention among Russian physicians. A fortnightly periodical, Zdorovie (The Health), receives a liberal support.—Health Reformer.
—“A new Territory by the name of Huron,” says an Exchange, “is soon to be added to the Union.” This will be taken from the northern portion of the Territory of Dakota, and contains about 70,000 square miles, and about 10,000 inhabitants. It includes the country along the Red River of the North, which is said to be one of the best farming regions in the United States. The young, but rapidly growing city of Bismarck is to be its capital.
—The Christian Union, speaking of the case of Daniel Schrumpf who was recently tried for selling adulterated milk, says:
“The cars bring every day 400,000 gallons of milk into New York City, which sells at retail for ten cents a quart. Mr. Schrumpf had added one-quarter water. If the trade generally followed his example there would be a daily sale of 100,000 gallons of water at ten cents a quart, $40,000 a day, a snug little sum for profit in the course of the year.”
Mr. S. was sentenced to a fine of $250 and ten days’ imprisonment. His friends paid the fine, but, fortunately, were unable to go to prison for him.
—The Commission appointed by President Grant to examine the three proposed routes for connecting the Atlantic and Pacific by means of a canal, have reported in favor of the Nicaragua route. The work is one of gigantic proportions, and will rank, with the construction of the Suez canal and the building of the Pacific railroad, among the great engineering triumphs of the age. The State of Nicaragua does not offer so narrow an obstacle between the two oceans as other points on the southern coast. The width of the State varies between 120 and 240 miles. Lying in the interior of the State, a few miles from the Pacific Ocean, is the Lake of Nicaragua, a sheet of water from 30 to 40 miles broad, and only 128 feet above the waters of the Pacific. This lake will be utilized in the construction of a canal. Its depth varies from 30 to 90 feet. The great obstacle to be overcome in constructing the canal is a volcanic range running near the western coast, and rising between the Pacific and the inland lake to a hight of 10,000 feet. This State is supposed to show a separation of the great chain of the Cordilleras into two divergent ranges, having a less average hight than the main ridge, and being subject to partial interruption. The commission doubtless find favorable passes in these broken ranges which render feasible the project they have in view. The report estimates the cost of the work at $100,000,000.—Call.
Have You Enemies?
GO STRAIGHT on, and don't mind them. If they get in your way, walk round them regardless of their spite. A celebrated character who was surrounded by enemies, used to remark: “They are sparks which, if you do not blow, will go out of themselves.” “Live down prejudice,” was the Iron Duke's motto. Let this be your feeling while endeavoring to live down the scandal of those who are bitter against you. If you stop to dispute, you do but as they desire, and open the way for more abuse. Let the poor fellow talk—there will be a reaction if you do but perform your duty; and hundreds who were once alienated from you will flock to you, and acknowledge their error.