THE SIGNS being published earlier than usual this week, we are not able to give our column of condensed reports from Review and Herald. But in its place would submit a brief sketch of the progress of the work for the past few weeks.
Since the first of August, one hundred reports, from twenty different States and from foreign countries, have been given through the SIGNS, showing an addition of over five hundred to the number of those who are observing the Bible Sabbath and keeping the law of ten commandments. This is mostly the result of tent labor; though much has been accomplished by our publications on Bible subjects, which have been largely circulated. Elder Carnright reports having sold ninety dollars' worth of books, and obtained twenty-eight subscribers for the SIGNS OF THE TIMES, at the meetings held in one place.
The number of conversions given above, as reported the past few weeks in the SIGNS, are only from those reports where a definite number is given. When it is stated that several have accepted the truth, or a goodly number have commenced the observance of the Sabbath, no estimate was made. And reports given in full in the SIGNS are usually only of the work upon this coast, and from European correspondents. In condensing from the Review many reports are not given at all, as only from one to two columns of the SIGNS are filled with this matter, while in the Review from four to eight columns are filled each week. Last week a summary was given of the week previous, in which a count was made of two hundred and sixty-four conversions to the Sabbath; this being the report of one week only.
There are a goodly number of active laborers in the field; and those who hear the word spoken and accept the Bible doctrines advocated, with love in their hearts and zeal for the cause, are spreading the light and extending the work by circulating reading matter upon these subjects. As an illustration of this we give an incident of a brother, some months ago, soliciting a minister to give a course of lectures in a certain place, and as the result a church was organized, consisting of ten members. Now he reports thirty-five keeping the Sabbath.
The progress of this work is reported from every quarter. In various ways the light is spreading. Even the winds are an agent in distributing the truth. It is stated in the Review that a young lady of infidel sentiments, with whom conversation had been held upon the truthfulness of the Bible and the consistency of its doctrines, became interested and promised to read upon these subjects. Some time elapsed and the publications were not sent. But one day she discovered a part of a tract, which awakened an interest again in her mind, and she called upon the one who had conversed with her on these subjects, and asked if he had left some tracts on her school-house steps. She said she had found a part of one of our tracts that had blown through mud and rain and lodged at the door. She cleaned the mud from it, read it, and took it to her mother, and they both read it several times. She expressed her conviction of the truthfulness of what she had read. A package of our tracts was given her with the hope that she might fully accept the truth and live it out. Had not that tract lodged where it did, and fallen into her hands, perhaps she might never again have had her attention called to the subject. Surely, in this case the wind was used as an agent to extend the light.
As we see the cause progressing, and the work advancing, should we not be inspired with renewed zeal and energy to act well our part in the faithful performance of whatever may be required at our hands, that at last it may be said to us, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” L. M. H.
Resolution Against Sin
Oh ! how irresolute a man often is concerning a sin which he knows to be a sin, but which enchants him with its sweetness. Ah ! how a man will say, “I must give it up but I cannot !” Sin dies hard ; it makes a hundred excuses for itself, and pleads, “Is it not a little one? Is it not a sweet one?” Oh, Lord, then give me strength of resolution, and when I know that a thing is wrong, help me to have done with it ; and when I perceive an action to be right, help me to make haste and delay not to keep thy commandments. Oh, my Lord, may I never try to patch up a peace between my conscience and myself by trimming and compromising. If I know a thing to be thy will, may I never parley nor question ; for this is to rebel. The spirit that parleys is the essence of high treason. —Spurgeon.
The Mother's Work.
By Ellen G. White
No work can equal that of the Christian mother. She takes up her work with a sense of what it is to bring up her children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. How often will she feel her burden's weight heavier than she can bear; and then how precious the privilege of taking it all to her sympathizing Saviour in prayer. She may lay her burden at his feet, and find in his presence a strength that will sustain her, and give her cheerfulness, hope, courage, and wisdom in the most trying hours. How sweet to the care-worn mother is the consciousness of such a friend in all her difficulties. If mothers would go to Christ more frequently, and trust him more fully, their burdens would be easier, and they would find rest to their souls.
Jesus is a lover of children. The important responsibility of training her children should not rest alone upon the mother. The father should act his part, uniting his efforts with those of the mother. As her children, in their tender years, are mostly under her guidance, the father should encourage and sustain the mother in her work of care by his cheerful looks and kind words. The faithful mother's labor is seldom appreciated. It is frequently the case that the father returns from his business to his home, bringing his cares and perplexities with him. He has no cheerful smile for home, and if he does not find everything for his accommodation, and to meet his ideas, he expresses his disappointment in a clouded brow and censuring words. He does not take into the account the care the mother must have had with the restless children, to keep everything moving smoothly. Her children must have her time and attention, if they are brought up, as the apostle directs, “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”
The word of God should be judiciously brought to bear upon the youthful minds, and be their standard of rectitude, correcting their errors, enlightening and guiding their minds, which will be far more effectual in restraining and controlling the impulsive temperament than harsh words, which will provoke to wrath. This training of children to meet the Bible standard will require time, perseverance, and prayer. This should be attended to if some things about the house are neglected.
Many times in the day is the cry of, Mother, mother, heard, first from one little troubled voice and then another. In answer to the cry, mother must turn here and there to attend to their demands. One is in trouble, and needs the wise head of the mother to free him from his perplexity. Another is so pleased with some of his devices he must have his mother see them, thinking she will be as pleased as he is. A word of approval will bring sunshine to the heart for hours. Many precious beams of light and gladness can the mother shed here and there among her precious little ones. How closely can she bind these dear ones to her heart, that her presence will be to them the sunniest place in the world. But frequently the patience of the mother is taxed with these numerous little trials, that seem scarcely worth attention. Mischievous hands and restless feet create a great amount of labor and perplexity for the mother. She has to hold fast the reins of self-control, or impatient words will slip from her tongue. She almost forgets herself time and again, but a silent prayer to her pitying Redeemer calms her nerves, and she is enabled to hold the reins of self-control with quiet dignity. She speaks with calm voice, but it has cost her an effort to restrain harsh words and subdue angry feelings, which, if expressed, would have destroyed her influence, which it would have taken time to regain.
The perception of children is quick, and they discern patient, loving tones from the impatient, passionate command, which dries up the moisture of love and affection in the hearts of children. The true Christian mother will not drive her children from her presence by her fretfulness and lack of sympathizing love. As the parents wish God to deal with them, so should they deal with their children. Our children are only the younger members of the Lord's family, intrusted to us to educate wisely, to patiently discipline, that they may form Christian characters, and be qualified to bless others in this life, and enjoy the life to come.
Many parents do not strive to make a happy home for their children. The pleasantest rooms are closed for visitors. The pleasant face is put on to entertain visitors. Smiles are lavished upon those who do not prize them, while the dear members of the family are pining for smiles and affectionate words. A sunny countenance and cheerful, encouraging words will brighten the poorest home, and be as a talisman to guard the father and the children from the many temptations that allure them from the love of home to the dram-shop, or scenes of amusement which lead away from purity and morality.
But the work of making home happy does not rest upon the mother alone. Fathers have an important part to act. The husband is the house-band of the home treasures, binding by his strong, earnest, devoted affection the members of the household, mother and children, together in the strongest bonds of union. It is for him to encourage, with cheerful words, the efforts of the mother in rearing her children. The mother seldom appreciates her own work, and frequently sets so low an estimate upon her labor that she regards it as domestic drudgery. She goes through the same round day after day, week after week, with no special marked results. She cannot tell, at the close of the day, the many little things she has accomplished. Placed beside her husband's achievement, she feels that she has done nothing worth mentioning. The father frequently comes in with a self-satisfied air, and proudly recounts what he has accomplished through the day. His remarks show that now he must be waited upon by the mother, for she has not done much except take care of the children, cook the meals, and keep the house in order. She has not acted the merchant, bought nor sold; she has not acted the farmer, in tilling the soil; she has not acted the mechanic;—therefore she has done nothing to make him weary. He criticises and censures and dictates as though he was the lord of creation. And this is all the more trying to the wife and mother, because she has become very weary at her post of duty during the day, and yet she cannot see what she has done, and is really disheartened. Could the veil be withdrawn, and father and mother see as God sees the work of the day, and see how his infinite eye compares the work of the one with that of the other, they would be astonished at the heavenly revelation. The father would view his labors in a more modest light, while the mother would have new courage and energy to pursue her labor with wisdom, perseverance and patience.
Now she knows its value. While the father has been dealing with the things which must perish and pass away, the mother has been dealing with developing minds and character, working, not only for time, but for eternity. Her work, if done faithfully in God, will be immortalized.
The votaries of fashion will never see or understand the immortal beauty of that Christian mother's work, and will sneer at her old fashioned notions, and her plain, unadorned dress; while the Majesty of heaven will write the name of that faithful mother in the book of immortal fame.—Mrs. E. G. WHITE, in Health Reformer.
The Sabbath a Memorial.
[Extract from a work entitled “A Word for the Sabbath,” by Elder U. Smith.]
That man, on earth and fading things below,
Might not his best affections all bestow,
That he might not, buried in worldly care,
Forget who made the earth and sea and air,
But calm his soul with holy thoughts of Heaven,
The rest-day of the Lord was kindly given:
A blest memorial which to mind should bring
Creation’s birthday and creation’s King.
Here Error, busy with her countless arts,
To weave her webs and hurl her poisonous darts,
Ceaselessly striving with her sorcerer’s rod
To mar the beauty of the truth of God;
To make mankind through some false medium
see,
Till all their vision shall perverted be,
Zealously strives, with energy not slack,
To switch them off on a fallacious track.
This is her plea : though false and most absurd,
’Tis yet entitled to a passing word :—
When Israel’s sons were slaves in Egypt’s land,
Close-fettered in oppression’s iron band,
Their God deliverance brought, and freed from
harm,
With mighty hand and with a stretched-out arm;
Therefore ’tis claimed the Sabbath was designed
Their great deliverance then to keep in mind:
A Jewish rite, memorial of the day
When they from cruel bondage fled away.
Now, then, shall reason and God’s word declare
How far with truth this theory will compare.
That they might ever cherish, fresh in thought,
The glad deliverance which for them was
wrought,
And Him who thus stretched forth his hand to
save,
Two fit memorials Jehovah gave:
For oft as they the Passover observed,
So oft in strong remembrance they preserved,
When God through judgment bro’t deliverance
nigh,
And Egypt’s first-born sons were doomed to die,
How the destroying angel, dark with wrath,
Passed o’er their dwellings on his fearful path.
And oft as they the Unleavened Feast prepared,
So oft, with this memorial, they declared
How the Egyptians, fearful of their stay,
With hastening hand then hurried them away.
And when at length their sons should wish to
know
What means this service, what designed to show,
This was their answer: For with mighty hand
Jehovah brought us up from Egypt’s land.
Thus were two fitting, plain memorials given,
So to remind them of this work of Heaven.
But such desires in some poor minds bear sway,
To get Jehovah’s Sabbath out the way,
That they attempt, in furious strength to seize,
And crowd it in, and make it go with these!
Not satisfied with what God gives to man,
They must push in another if they can.
At once we see ’t is but an artful quirk,
And there’s no fitness in such silly work.
A weekly rest, to keep in memory, clear,
A day that could come round but once a year!
Just as if we to celebrate, should try,
Once every week the Fourth of our July!
But most in this propriety they crush,
They have a rest memorial of a rush!!
’Twas meet that God, when he had bared his
arm,
To lift their suffering, and release from harm,
And brought them from beneath the oppressor’s
rod,
Where they could freely serve and worship God,
Should charge to whom their homage then should
pay,
And so remind them of the Sabbath day.
Others there are who take no ground like this,
But still take theories equally amiss.
Thus they contend: Since first-day was the day
When from death’s bands our Saviour broke
away,
Since then redemption’s plan was made complete,
That is the day, henceforth, that we must keep;
Should keep to bear in mind, in deed and word,
The resurrection of our blessed Lord.
First, then, in all sincerity we seek
How this sustains the first day of the week,
And in all candor ask, Where do you find
Authority for changes of this kind?
Where, keep the Sabbath, does the Bible say,
To bear in mind the resurrection day?
Are not memorials already given,
Ordained, appointed, and designed, of Heaven?
For when we lay our bodies ’neath the wave,
Do we not emblem Jesus in the grave?
That as he from the dead arose, so we
Should rise, in newer life henceforth to be?
And oft as we, said Christ, the bread should
break,
And in his memory should the cup partake,
So oft should we show forth, with symbols clear,
The death of Jesus till he should appear.
Are not these then sufficient? must we bring
A third memorial so unlike the thing?
And no way fitted to recall to mind
The scenes for whose remembrance ’t was designed?
If God proposed the Sabbath day to change,
It sure must be a matter passing strange
That he no record gave to set it right,
But left mankind to guess it as they might;
For in God’s word, though men don’t seem to
mind it,
There’s no such record, and they cannot find it.
’Twas naught, at first, but God’s almighty
power
That placed the blessing on the Sabbath hour;
Naught but his mandate that enforced its claim,
On all men equal, and on all the same.
Know then that his almighty power, alone,
Can change that day he once declared his own.
No less than his command, express and plain,
Must you produce, to prove your theory sane.
On human creeds, then, dare you longer rest,
Slighting the only day that God has blest?
On human theories dare you trust your all?
Remember, by God’s law we stand or fall.
The Sabbath a memorial we admit,
But not of actions which it will not fit.
To make it a memorial of events,
To which it has no semblance, is not sense.
To use it where no meaning it conveys,
Stretched and distorted in a thousand ways,
Shocks every law Propriety e’er gave,
And finds for Fitness an untimely grave.
Rightly applied, harmonious and fair,
The Sabbath stands, and there is beauty there.
Grant it the place for which it was designed,
And it has lessons for each honest mind;
For thus our actions speak, while we protest,
After six days of toil, a day of rest,
In stronger terms than language e’er unfurled—
Jehovah rested when he made the world.
Plainly he’s shown what day that day shall be;
He rested on the seventh, and so must we.
[The book from which the foregoing extract
is taken, is for sale at this Office. Price, hand-
somely bound, 40 cents. It recommends itself,
and should have a wide circulation.]
Family Religion.
By Talmage
TAKE first the statement that unless our children are saved in early life they probably never will be. They who go over the twentieth year without Christ are apt to go all the way without him. Grace, like flower-seeds, needs to be sown in spring. The first fifteen years of life, and often the first six, decide the eternal destiny.
The first thing to do with a lamb is to put it into the arms of the Great Shepherd. Of course you must observe natural laws. Give a child excessive meat diet, and it will grow up sensual; catechism three times a day, and sixty grains in each dose will not prevent it. Talk much in your child's presence about the fashions, and it will be fond of dress, notwithstanding all your lectures on humility. Fill your house with gossip, and your children will tattle. Culture them as much as you will, but give them plenty of money to spend, and they will go to destruction.
But while we are to use common sense in every direction respecting a child, the first thing is to strive for its conversion, and there is nothing more potent than family prayers. No child ever gets over having heard his parents pray for him. We had many sound threshings when a boy, but the most memorable scene of all was father and mother at morning and evening prayers. We cannot forget it, for did we not often squirm around on the floor, and look at them while they were praying? Your son may go to the ends of the earth, and run through the whole catalogue of transgressions, but he will remember the family altar, and it will be a check, and a call, and perhaps his redemption.
Family prayers are often of no use. Perhaps they are too hurried. We have so much before us of the day's work, that we hustle the children together. We get half through the chapter before the family are seated. We read as if we were reading for a wager. We drop on our knees, and are in the second or third sentence before they all get down. It is an express train, with amen for the first depot. We rush for the hat and overcoat, and are on the way to the store, leaving the impression that family prayers are a necessary nuisance, and we had better not have had any gathering of the family at all. Better have given them a kiss all around; it would have taken less time, and have been more acceptable to God and them.
Family prayers often fail in adaptedness. Do not read for the morning lesson a genealogical chapter, or about Samson setting his foxes' tails on fire, or the prophecy about the horses, black, and red, and speckled, unless you explain why they were speckled. For all the good your children get from such reading you might as well have read a Chinese almanac. Rather give the story of Jesus and the children climbing into his arms, or the lad with the loaves and fishes, or the sea of Galilee dropping to sleep under Christ's lullaby. Stop and ask questions. Make the exercise so interesting that little Johnny will stop playing with his shoestrings, and Jenny will quit rubbing the cat's fur the wrong way. Let the prayer be pointed, and made up of small words, and no wise information to the Lord about things he knows without your telling him. Let the children feel that they are prayed for. Have a hymn if any of you can sing. Let the season be spirited, appropriate, and gladly solemn.
Family prayer also fails when the whole day is not in harmony with it. A family prayer, to be worth anything, ought to be twenty-four hours long. It ought to give the pitch to all the day's work and behavior. The day when we get thoroughly mad, upsets the morning devotion. The life must be in the same key with the devotion.—Talmage.
Feed the Drunkard’s Family
An eloquent temperance orator was recently interrupted in the midst of an earnest address by the interrogatory, “What shall we do with all the grain that is now required for distilling?” “Feed the drunkard’s wife and children with it. They have gone hungry long enough,” was the ready reply.
Taking a Situation.
“Well, girls,” said my uncle Barnabas, “and now what do you propose to do about it?”
We sat around the fire in a disconsolate semicircle, uncle Barnabas Berkelin sat with us erect, stiff, and rather grim. Uncle Barnabas was rich and we were poor. He was wise in the ways of the world and we were inexperienced. Uncle Barnabas was prosperous in all he did; while if there was a bad bargain to be made, we were pretty sure to be the ones to make it. Consequently, we looked up to him and reverenced his opinions.
“What do we propose to do about it?” Eleanor slowly repeated. “Yes, that’s exactly it,” said my mother, nervously; “because, Brother Barnabas, we don’t pretend to be business women, and it’s certain that we cannot live comfortably on our present income. Something has surely got to be done.”
And then my mother leaned back in her chair with a troubled face.
“Yes,” said uncle, “something has got to be done! But who’s to do it?”
And another dead silence succeeded.
“I suppose you girls are educated?” said uncle Barnabas. “I know I found enough old school bills when I was looking over my brother’s papers.”
“Of course,” said my mother, with evident pride, “their education has been most expensive. Music, drawing, use of the globes—”
“Yes, yes, of course,” interrupted uncle Barnabas; “but is it practical? Can they teach?”
Eleanor looked dubious. I was quite sure I could not. Madame Lenoir, among all her list of accomplishments, had not included the art of practical tuition.
“Humph!” grunted uncle Barnabas. “A queer thing this modern education. Well if you can’t teach you can surely do something! What do you say, Eleanor, to a situation?”
“A situation?”
“I spoke plain enough, didn’t I?” said uncle Barnabas, dryly. “Yes, a situation!”
“What sort of a situation, uncle Barnabas?”
“Well I can hardly say. Part servant, part companion to an elderly lady!” explained the old gentleman.
“Oh, uncle Barnabas, I couldn’t do that.”
“Not do it? And why not?”
“It’s too much—too much,” whispered Eleanor, losing her regal dignity in the pressure of the emergency, “like going out to service.”
“And that is precisely what it is!” retorted uncle Barnabas, nodding his head. “Service! Why, we’re all out at service, in one way or another, in this world!”
“Oh, yes I know,” faltered poor Eleanor, who, between her distaste for the proposed plan, and her anxiety not to offend uncle Barnabas, didn’t quite know what to say. “But I—I’ve always been educated to be a lady.”
“So you won’t take the position, eh?” said uncle Barnabas, staring up at a wishy-washy little water-color drawing of Cupid and Psyche, an “exhibition piece” of poor Eleanor’s which hung above the chimney piece.
“I couldn’t, indeed, sir.”
“Wages twenty-five dollars a month,” mechanically repeated uncle Barnabas, as if he were saying off a lesson. “Drive out in the carriage every day with the missus, cat and canary to take care of, modern house, and all improvements. Sunday afternoons to yourself, and two weeks, spring and fall, to visit your mother.”
“No, uncle Barnabas, no,” said Eleanor, with a little shudder. “I am a true Berkelin, and I cannot stoop to menial duties.”
Uncle Barnabas gave such a prolonged sniff as to suggest the idea of a very bad cold in his head.
“Sorry,” said he. “Heaven helps those who try to help themselves, and you can’t expect me to be more liberal-minded than Heaven. Sister Rachel,” to my mother, “what do you say?”
My mother drew her pretty little figure up a trifle more erect than usual.
“I think my daughter Eleanor is quite right,” said she. “The Berkelins have always been ladies.”
I had sat quite silent, with my chin in my hands, during all this family discussion; but now I rose up and came creeping to uncle Barnabas’ side.
“Well, little Susy,” said the old gentleman, laying his hand kindly on my wrist, “what is it?”
“If you please, uncle, I would like to take the situation,” said I with a throbbing heart.
“Brave!” cried uncle Barnabas.
“My dear children!” exclaimed my mother.
“Susannah!” uttered Eleanor, in accents by no means laudatory.
“Yes,” said I, “twenty-five dollars a month is a great deal of money, and I was never afraid of work. I think I will go to the old lady, uncle Barnabas. I’m sure I could send home at least twenty dollars a month to mother and Eleanor, and then the two weeks, spring and fall, would be so nice! Please, uncle Barnabas, I’ll go back with you when you go. What is the old lady’s name?”
“Her name?” said uncle Barnabas, “Didn’t I tell you? It’s Prudence—Mrs. Prudence.”
“What a nice name! I know I shall like her,” said I.
“Well, I think you will,” said uncle Barnabas, looking kindly at me. “And I think she will like you. Is it a bargain for the nine o’clock train to-morrow morning?”
“Yes,” I answered stoutly, taking care not to look in the direction of my mother and Eleanor.
“You’re the most sensible of the lot,” said uncle Barnabas, approvingly.
But after he had gone to bed in the best chamber, where the ruffled pillow-cases were, and the chintz-cushioned easy chair, the full strength of the family tongue broke on my devoted head.
“I can’t help it, quoth I, holding valiantly to my color. “We can’t starve. Some of us must do something. And you can live very nicely, indeed, mother, darling, on twenty dollars a month.”
“That is true,” sighed my mother from behind her black-bordered pocket-handkerchief. “But I never thought to see a daughter of mine going out to—service!”
“And uncle Barnabas isn’t going to do anything for us after all,” cried out Eleanor, indignantly. “Stingy old fellow; I should think he might at least adopt one of us! He’s as rich as Croesus, and never a chick nor a child.”
“He may do as he likes about that,” I answered, independently. “I prefer to earn my own money.”
So the next morning I set out for the unknown bourne of New York life.
“Uncle Barnabas, how shall I find where Mrs. Prudence lives?” said I as the train reached the city.
“Oh, I’ll go with you,” said he.
“Are you well acquainted with her?” I ventured to ask.
“Oh, very well, indeed!” replied uncle Barnabas, nodding his head approvingly.
We took a carriage at the depot and drove through so many streets, that my head spun round and round, before we stopped at a pretty brown stone mansion—it looked like a palace to my unaccustomed eyes—and uncle Barnabas helped me out.
“Here is where Mrs. Prudence lives,” said he with a chuckle.
A neat little maid opened the door, and I was conducted into an elegant apartment, all gilding, exotics and blue satin damask, when a plump old lady, dressed in black silk, came smilingly forward, like a sixty-year old sunbeam.
“So you’ve come back, Barnabas, have you,” said she, “and brought one of the dear girls with you. Come and kiss me, my dear.”
“Yes, Susy, kiss your aunt,” said uncle Barnabas, flinging his hat one way and his gloves another, as he sat complacently down on the sofa.
“My aunt?” I echoed.
“Why, of course,” said the plump old lady. “Don’t you know? I’m your aunt Prudence.”
“But I thought,” gasped I, in bewilderment, “that I was coming to a situation!”
“Well, so you are,” retorted uncle Barnabas. “The situation of adopted daughter in my family. Twenty-five dollars a month pocket money; the care of aunt Prudence’s cat and canary, and to make yourself generally useful.”
“Oh! uncle,” cried I, “Eleanor would have been so glad to have come if she had known it.”
“Fiddlestrings and little fishes!” illogically responded my uncle. “I’ve no patience with a girl that’s too fine to work. Eleanor had the situation offered to her and chose to decline. You decided to come, and here you stay!”
And this was the way I drifted into my luxurious home. Eleanor in the country envies me bitterly, for she has all the tastes which wealth and a metropolitan home can gratify. But uncle Barnabas will not hear of my exchanging with her. But he lets me send her liberal presents every month, and so I am happy.
RELIGIOUS NEWS AND NOTES.
—Many priests are leaving Ecuador on account of hostility to the government.
—The Book of Common Prayer has been published in the Hong-Chow dialect of China.
—The “market-men’s” noonday prayer-meeting, begun last winter, is still kept up in Boston.
—The Bible is being printed at the rate of more than a million copies every year, or five copies for every minute of working time.
—A bronze statue of Robert Raikes, founder of the Sunday-school system in England, is to be erected in his native city, Gloucester.
—An Evangelical Alliance has been formed in Spain, which nearly all the evangelical ministers there, about thirty-one, have joined. It is now proposed to hold a conference of missionaries in Spain, similar to that lately held in China.
—The statistics of the Protestant Episcopal Diocese of Albany, N. Y., are as follows: Priests, 103; deacons, 14; confirmations during the year, 1,065; communicants, 10,176; current expenses, $137,892; total contributions in the Diocese, $233,278.
—The statistics of the Protestant Episcopal church in Connecticut are: Families, 12,539; communicants, 25,686; clergymen, 188; contributions for parochial expenses, $243,381. The total contributions for all purposes is $343,411, which is an average of $18.50 from each communicant.
—It is reported that twenty-two persons worshiping at Mr. Ridsdale’s church, Folkestone, have gone over to the Roman Catholic church, and that a number from St. Leonard’s, Wantage, Clewer, St. Mary Magdalen’s, at Paddington, and St. Alban’s, at Holborn, are likely to go the same road.
—In a recent massacre of Christians at Eski Saghra by the Bashi-Bazouks, and destruction of their property, over thirty churches and five hundred schools and colleges were burned. The district is one of the richest in that part of Turkey, and contained a large proportion of Christian inhabitants.
—The Synod of bishops, priests and lay communicants of New Zealand, known as the church of England, has sent a resolution to the Old Catholics, expressing “its recognition of the earnest labors of the leaders of that movement to bring about a return to the doctrine, discipline and unity of the primitive church.”
—The Department of State is informed that the Jewish residents of Smyrna, headed by their grand rabbi, waited upon the United States minister to Turkey during his recent visit to that city, and thanked the Government of the United States for its solicitude for the Jewish people in the Ottoman Empire, as evinced in the recent instructions from the Department of State.
—It is stated that “Grace church, Sacramento, Cal., has been sold at auction, and bought by a bank which had a claim for money loaned to erect the building. The rector having resigned, the vestry have made over to him the furniture of the church and chancel, the communion service, etc., to secure to him what they owe him on his salary, and the bank officers have applied to the court for an injunction to annul this action of the vestry, as they want the furniture to satisfy the balance of their claim. So that now, more than twenty-five years after her services were established, the Episcopal church has not a dollar’s worth of property in the capital city of this wealthy State.”
God’s Judgments and Mercy
God often sends judgments, because we will not own his hand of mercy.
The Exact Truth.
Two young masons were building a brick wall—the front wall of a high house. One of them, in placing a brick, discovered that it was a little thicker on one side than on the other.
His companion advised him to throw it out. “It will make your wall untrue, Ben,” said he.
“Pooh!” answered Ben, “what difference will such a trifle as that make? You’re too particular.”
“My mother,” replied his companion, “taught me that ‘truth is truth,’ and ever so little an untruth is a lie, and a lie is no trifle.”
“Oh,” said Ben, “that’s all very well; but I am not lying, and have no intention of doing so.”
“Very true; but you make your wall tell a lie; and I have somewhere read that a lie in one’s work, like a lie in his character, will show itself sooner or later, and bring harm, if not ruin.”
“I’ll risk it in that case,” answered Ben, and he worked away, laying more bricks, and carrying the wall up higher, till the close of the day, when they quit work and went home.
The next morning they went to resume their work, when behold, the lie had wrought out the result of all lies! The wall, getting a little slant from the untrue brick, had become more untrue as it got higher, and at last in the night had toppled over, obliging the masons to do all their work over again.
Just so with ever so little an untruth in your character—it grows more and more untrue if you permit it to remain, till it brings sorrow and ruin.
SECULAR NEWS.
—Colored teachers are being put in charge of the colored schools in St. Louis, greatly to the satisfaction of everybody.
—The steamer Montreal was burned near Swanton, Vt., on the night of September 3d. Loss, $25,000; insurance, $12,000.
—Brigham Young's will was read in the presence of all his widows September 3d. The estate is valued at $2,000,000.
—The great statesman, Louis Adolphe Thiers, ex-president of the republic of France, died very suddenly, September 3, at St. Germain.
—It is stated that the army-worm has appeared in large numbers in De Soto county, Miss.; Fayette county, Tenn., and Lee county, Ark., and much damage to the cotton crop is feared.
—A small bug has made its appearance in Los Angeles county, and is destroying the pumpkin vines by the wholesale. The insects are green in color, and literally cover the ground.
—Among the suicides in France, reported last year, twenty-nine were of children, nine were fifteen years of age; six were fourteen; nine, thirteen; one, twelve; two, eleven; one, ten, and one, nine.
—September 3, while some workmen were making an excavation in Cincinnati, the walls of a building were undermined and it fell with a tremendous crash, burying a number of people in the ruins.
—An exchange says: “In sinking an artesian well in Humboldt county, a current of gas was struck at a depth of 120 feet, which when ignited, sent a jet of flame 36 feet into the air, and burned brightly for many hours.”
—The work of replacing the bridge over the Missouri, is already begun. The expense will be about $50,000. The interruption to freight by the accident is estimated to amount to about one day between New York and San Francisco. It will require two months to permanently repair damages.
—The imports of specie at the port of New York for the week ending August 18, were $350,141 and the exports $226,555. Thus far in the year the outward movement has declined not far from 50 per cent as compared with 1876. The imports, however, show an increase of over 50 per cent.
—A disastrous fire occurred, September 3, in the city of New York. At about 10 A. M., an extensive piano factory was discovered to be on fire. Owing to the light material and the large quantities of varnish and paint contained in the building, the flames gained such a rapid headway as to render futile any attempt to save the structure. The fire swept to the south side of the street, communicating with a barrel factory, soap factory, and charcoal factory, north of Thirty-fifth street, and a block of frame houses on Tenth avenue. All the buildings named were in operation, and contained full complements of employees, some of whom perished in the flames. The factories and other buildings were reduced to ruins in about three-quarters of an hour. A steam fire-engine was burned, the firemen being unable to get it out, in consequence of the intense heat. The walls of the brick buildings fell from time to time with a heavy crash. The great scarcity of water rendered the efforts of the firemen to prevent the spread of the flames unsuccessful. The entire block bounded by Thirty-fifth and Thirty-sixth streets, and Tenth and Eleventh avenues were laid waste. Many tenement houses on the four sides of the block were destroyed. Sparks were carried by the wind to the canvas of a gospel tent near the corner of Twelfth avenue, and it was destroyed also. Hundreds of families are rendered homeless. The total loss is estimated to be $350,000; insurance, $190,000.
BUSINESS DEPARTMENT.
“Cursed be he that doeth the work of the Lord deceitfully,” (margin, negligently). Jer. 48:10.
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