It is good to have decision of character and strength of will sufficient to embrace truth, however unpopular it may be, and to endure opposition and persecution without yielding the right. For want of this firmness, courage, and endurance, many will be found at last in that company called "the fearful," who, with all the unbelieving, abominable, etc., have their portion in the lake of fire. Rev. 21 : 8. Oh for the moral courage, decision, and endurance that God can approve!
But it is possible to have too much strength of will and independence of mind. Some embrace the truth earnestly, and advocate it with ardent zeal for a time, who have too much independence to exercise that submission to the judgment of others which the gospel teaches, and which is necessary in order to the unity of faith and spirit to which believers should attain. After running well for a season, something in their brethren dissatisfies them, and in a little while they are as set against the church and the truth as they ever were in favor. They rush on in their independence, regardless of truth or reason. They are not like the other class, tame and passive yielders to the popular will; but are bold and defiant opposers, doing all they are able to pull down and destroy. Now, while I would hold the truth with decision and endurance, at the same time I would have that spirit of submission which is necessary to a unity of spirit. "Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves to the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility; for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble." To be yielding to experienced brethren is not to yield the truth.
R. F. COTTRELL.
A Valuable Acquaintance.
An agnostic, who was once present in a refined circle, was surprised to learn that a certain noted lady believed firmly in the sacred Scriptures. He ventured to ask her:—
"Do you believe the Bible?"
"Most certainly I do," was her reply.
"Why do you believe it?" he queried again.
"Because I am acquainted with the Author."
This was her testimony; and all his talk about the unknown and the unknowable went for nothing, in view of the calm confidence born of her personal acquaintance with God. And it is this knowledge which is most effectual in dispelling the doubts and uncertainties which linger in the human mind. It is good to know the Bible; it is better still to know the Lord. It is important to know the truth; it is still more important to know him who is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Blessed are they that know the Lord; for to know him is life eternal.—Sel.
Propriety at the Benediction
The Golden Rule, referring to the confusion often observed in church during the benediction, remarks very pertinently: "If a clergyman will stand and reverently wait for perfect silence before beginning the benediction, and enforce propriety by a gentle word of exhortation, if necessary, he will soon have control of the situation. A little more deliberation would become many preachers. Remember there is no occasion for haste. Cultivate a talent for waiting. Dismiss your congregation like a company of Christian ladies and gentlemen, in the house of God; and don't let them disperse like a ward caucus."
What is Religion?
THE time was when Christians eschewed dancing and card-playing. From present appearances we should not be surprised to see them introduced as accompaniments of the Wednesday evening prayer-meeting. We are told there is no harm in these things. But they are the craze of the most ignorant, vicious, and immoral members of the human family. Collect the scum and offscouring of the earth together and a pack of cards and a fiddle will be sure to appear very soon. Is there a den in this or any other city where cards are not as necessary as beer or rum? Sad compliment to the enlightenment of this boasted and boastful nineteenth century, to its refinement and tastes, that it must find the means of killing time in the imitation of the vulgar and degraded.
'But dancing is an elegant amusement, and what is there wrong about it?' Is it a thing Christians should engage in? Does it make one better? Does it bring one nearer to God? Does it develop the higher and nobler traits of character? Does it fill the prayer-meeting? Does it lead to closer communion with God? Are those who are most diligent in attendance on the card-table and the ball-room those who are ready to pray and speak in the prayer-meeting, to counsel those who are inquiring?
'But young people learn manners, and it is very important that boys and girls should know how to behave in company.' So it is, and they should learn to behave properly while young, and parents, not a dancing master, should be their teachers. Manners are quite as necessary in other places as in a ball-room, however, and if certain young gentlemen whom we see at church and Sunday-school who are full of etiquette, whose bows are faultless and the smiles perfection itself, are fair specimens, we want no child of ours, not any in which we feel an interest, to know anything of etiquette. The great rules of good conduct, reverence for God and respect for man, they have not learned, and, if they have any manners worth speaking of, they carefully leave them at home on Sundays, when they are almost as useful as at any other time.
It seems to us that a very good test of the character of a calling or amusement is the character of those who are most devotedly attached to it, and the effects it produces. Examine the dance and the card-table. Do you find the most earnest, devoted followers of Christ there? Do inquirers after Christ flock there? Do they lead to Christ? How many converts come from the ball-room and the card-table? If they lead not men to Christ, then they are not aids to the growth of the soul in grace and knowledge of the truth.
Religion, if a mere matter of form, can have little influence on the life. If it consists in the adoption of certain principles of action, it must, as far as those principles differ from those formerly acted upon, change the conduct and lead to a different life. If the Christian and he who professes no religion, live and act alike, in what do they differ? Why, then, not admit to the church, without question, all who are willing to assist in paying the expenses? But to us it seems that all Christ's teachings, as well as those of the apostles, makes it plain that the Christian is not to follow the example of the world, but to deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Jesus; that he is to so live that the world may know that he is a follower of Christ; that he is to eschew all those things that do not further the interests of Christ's kingdom; that he is to watch and pray lest he enter into temptation; that to him it must not be enough that a thing is bad; it must be good. He should be a living epistle, read and known of all men; a bright and shining light and way-mark for the kingdom of Heaven. These principles must influence his whole life, not simply send him to church Sunday and once in a while to prayer-meeting. He must know as much of the Bible as of the last novel—and how many professors of religion do not! The Bible must be to him a higher authority than Shakespeare, and he will much prefer to hear it quoted from the pulpit than to being treated to the great dramatist's lucubrations. The way of life is straight and narrow, and we do not believe the traveler will be able to find room for much baggage, and we imagine few Christians will place among their treasures a pack of cards, a violin and a series of opera tickets. It would be well for every professing Christian to thoughtfully consider these matters and to decide, asking God for light and guidance, whether he can engage in these things or not.
The church is weak through following the world. It grovels in the dust, begging for friends to carry on its work, giving entertainments that would be just as appropriate in a Buddhist temple as in a church, and engaging in or encouraging questionable means of obtaining money, means that Christians should be ashamed of. Is this religion? Is this serving God?—Ottawa Republican.
The Danger of Riches.
By Alfred Graham
THERE must be some fascination in money itself, or a delusion in the hope of possible good to be derived from its possession. The latter proposition is true, and the good which men expect from riches is perfection. All nature aspires to perfection, and the lower creation realizes its aspiration, under normal conditions and favorable circumstances. Man realizes a constitutional demand for perfection, and is ever seeking after it. An error of judgment as to the idea of perfection, and the law of its attainment, and the consequent fact of failure, do not vitiate the general principle that man desires perfection.
But what perfection is there in being rich? Respectability. The principle involved in this idea is our respect for the opinions of others. No woman, for example, is governed strictly by her own taste, or that of the sterner sex, in the character and style of her dress; but she is a slave to the opinions of others of her own sex, by whose judgment she must stand or fail.
Men seek wealth from the same motive. Even the swinish miser, who despises rank and station, and ignores society, is in pursuit of the perfection of respectability. He expects the verdict of "well done" from his fellow-men, and to enjoy the honor of having attained the highest excellence. He cannot be supposed to be governed by any other motive to his low ambition. His comfort could be promoted with less than the sum to which he aspires; besides, he, as a fact, ignores comfort in any circumstances. He aspires to perfection—the personal excellence of being rich—this, and nothing more.
There is a nobler class of mammon-worshipers, who, though they are governed by the same aspiration for perfection, expect to attain it in a respectability of state and commercial power and influence. They constantly aim at a position and circumstances which will excite wonder in the vulgar herd, and cause people to say, "There goes Money-bags"—"That is Cash's establishment"—"He rents a pew in the church of the holy 7-30's"—"Old Stocks-and-securities controls this enterprise," or "owns that system." And an additional fascination is added to the bait by the possible hope of controlling legislation and corrupting the judiciary.
Millionaires are sometimes seized with a paroxysm of liberality, and they supply another condition of respectability—apparent benevolence. But, with rare exceptions, men of this class cannot, even by a stretch of charity, be supposed to know anything of the spirit of true benevolence. They affect humanity and the grace of Christian liberality to secure the applause of men, and Jesus says: "They have their reward." Men will talk, and newspapers will publish, and the donor is made famous, and becomes the cynosure of universal gaze.
The apostle Paul says, "But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is the root of all evil; which, while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows." 1 Tim. 6: 9, 10.
If the reader will take pains to analyze this scripture, he will see that God regards riches as dangerous, and their possession to be deprecated rather than desired. Two points only we would note: "They that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare." The idea is that of a gin or trap concealed by a fascinating bait in order to obtain which the unwary bird or beast approaches at the unconscious risk of its life and liberty. How expressive this figure for its purposes! The fascination of wealth, with all its desirable possibilities, lures the man to his destruction; for it is added, "which drown men in destruction and perdition." Second point: "Which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows."
No more fatal cause of apostasy and final skepticism exists than the inordinate love and ardent pursuit of money. It is an absorbing pursuit, and so occupies the time that it leaves no opportunity for worship, and so fills the heart that it leaves no room for God. And success often inspires such a dangerous feeling of independence and self-sufficiency that the poor, deluded victim of avarice exclaims: "It is vain to serve God." No wonder it is said: "They have pierced themselves through with many sorrows." It is a scene calculated to make an angel weep, that of a once pious man having forsaken God, and being now forsaken of God, all as the effect of loving money.
Let us all heed the words of him who said: "I counsel thee, to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich;" then we shall have imperishable riches whose values never change, and far beyond the reach of flood and fire.—Alfred Graham, D. D., in Bible Banner.
The Missionary and Comparative Religion
Students of "Comparative Religion," as it is called, have insisted upon the "study of the ancient religions," that thereby we may understand what Max Muller styles "the divine education of the human race." Poets have taken their old and romantic legends and woven them into attractive stories, where the constant implication is that just as the good and beautiful and true are conjoined in Christianity, so are they in the faiths which it proposes to displace. Very sage advice is often tendered to Christian missionaries by all-knowing editors and writers of articles for magazines, in which they are counseled to hunt out the good things which are embosomed in these old religions, and found their instruction on them, and not prejudice their cause and offend the people by demanding the instant and utter abandonment of their traditional faiths. It certainly adds to the discouragements of the Christian missionary that he is forced to the conviction that while he is confronting the dark and terrible systems of error in the lands where they are dominant, a latent skepticism behind him is imbuing the public mind, and to some extent the Christian mind, with the thought that his work is needless and therefore valueless, and that he is doing no service to the poor men whom he persuades to surrender their hereditary faith and accept the new gospel which he brings.—Sel.
Tolerance of Low Standards
THERE are few more certain evidences of the deterioration of a man's moral nature than the increasing tolerance with which he views low standards of conduct, as held by others in that sphere of society in which his lot is cast.
The End of Felix' Reign.
By Ellen G. White
TOWARD the close of Felix' official career, there arose a fearful strife among the population of Cæsarea. There had been frequent disputes, which had become a settled feud, between the Jews and the Greeks, concerning their respective rights and privileges in the city. All the splendor of Cæsarea, its temples, its palaces, and its amphitheater, were due to the ambition of the first Herod. Even the harbor, to which Cæsarea owed all its prosperity and importance, had been constructed by him at an immense outlay of money and labor. The Jewish inhabitants were numerous and wealthy, and they claimed the city as theirs, because their king had done so much for it. The Greeks, with equal persistency, maintained their right to the precedence.
These dissensions finally led to a fierce combat in the market-place, resulting in the defeat of the Greeks. Felix, who sided with the Gentile faction, came with his troops and ordered the Jews to disperse. The command was not instantly obeyed by the victorious party, and he ordered his soldiers to fall upon them. Glad of an opportunity to indulge their hatred of the Jews, they executed the order in the most merciless manner, and many were put to death. As if this were not enough, Felix, whose animosity toward the Jews had increased every year, now gave his soldiers liberty to rob the houses of the wealthy.
These daring acts of injustice and cruelty could not pass unnoticed. The Jews made a formal complaint against Felix, and he was summoned to Rome to answer their charges. He well knew that his course of extortion and oppression had given them abundant ground for complaint, but he still hoped to conciliate them. Hence, though he had a sincere respect for Paul, he decided to gratify their malice by leaving him a prisoner. But all his efforts were in vain; though he escaped banishment or death, he was removed from office, and deprived of the greater part of his ill-gotten wealth. Drusilla, the partner of his guilt, afterward perished, with their only son, in the eruption of Vesuvius. His own days were ended in disgrace and obscurity.
A ray of light from Heaven had been permitted to shine upon this wicked man, when Paul reasoned with him concerning righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come. That was his Heaven-sent opportunity to see and to forsake his sins. But he said to the Spirit of God, "Go thy way for this time; when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee." He had slighted his last offer of mercy. He was never to receive another call from God.—Mrs. E. G. White, in Sketches from the Life of Paul.
"I Appeal unto Cæsar."
TO EXPLAIN the full effect of this proceeding we must observe that in the provinces of Rome the supreme criminal jurisdiction (both under the republic and the empire) was exercised by the governors, whether they were proconsuls, propretors, or (as in the case of Judæa) procurators. To this jurisdiction the provincials were subject without appeal, and it is needless to say that it was often exercised in the most arbitrary manner. But the Roman citizens in the provinces, though also liable to be brought before the judgment-seat of the Governor, were protected from the abuse of his authority, for they had the right of stopping his proceedings against them by appealing to the tribunes, whose intervention at once transferred the cognizance of the cause to the ordinary tribunals at Rome. This power was only one branch of that prerogative of intercession (as it was called) by which the tribunes could stop the execution of the sentences of all other magistrates. Under the imperial regime the emperor stood in the place of the tribunes, Augustus and his successors being invested with the tribunitian power, as the most important of the many republican offices were concentrated in their persons. Hence the emperors constitutionally exercised the right of intercession, by which they might stop the proceedings of inferior authorities. But they extended this prerogative much beyond the limits which had confined it during the republican epoch. They not only arrested the execution of the sentences of other magistrates, but claimed and exercised the right of reversing or altering them, and of re-hearing the causes themselves. In short, the imperial tribunal was erected into a supreme court of appeal from all inferior courts either in Rome or in the provinces.
Such was the state of things when Paul appealed from Festus to Cæsar. If the appeal was admissible, it at once suspended all further proceedings on the part of Festus. There were, however, a few cases in which the right of appeal was disallowed; a bandit or a pirate, for example, taken in the fact, might be condemned and executed by the proconsul, notwithstanding his appeal to the emperor. Accordingly, we read that Festus took counsel with his assessors concerning the admissibility of Paul's appeal. But no doubt could be entertained on this head, and he immediately pronounced the decision of the court: "Thou hast appealed unto Cæsar; to Cæsar thou shalt be sent."
"AND it came to pass, when the king sat in his house, and the Lord had given him rest round about from all his enemies." Verse 1. At what time this was it is impossible to determine; probably not long after the events recorded in the preceding chapter. "That the king said unto Nathan the prophet, See, now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwelleth within curtains." Verse 2. This is the first mention of Nathan the prophet, who seems to have been David's constant adviser. He must have been considerably younger than David, for we read (1 Chron. 29: 29) that he wrote a history of the acts of David, and in 2 Chron. 9: 29 that he did the same for Solomon's reign. It is not certain, however, from this latter passage, that he outlived Solomon, for it may be that the writings of the two others referred to are supplementary. That he was a true prophet is evident from the plain rebuke which he administered to David, as recorded in the twelfth chapter.
It may not be amiss to notice, in passing, the statements in 1 Chron. 29: 2 and 2 Chron. 9: 29. None of these records by Nathan, Samuel, Gad, Abijah, and Iddo, are now extant. Nothing more is known of them than the brief mention in the above verses. Yet there is not the slightest doubt but that they were just as much inspired as were any of the records that we have. Why they were allowed to be lost, we cannot tell, nor does it concern us. The simple fact is that much has been written by inspiration that has not been given to us. In Jeremiah 36 we have an instance of a message directly from the Lord, which was not preserved for us. Of course these things were not of especial importance to us, else they would have been preserved. God has given us, in his word as committed to us, everything that is necessary to enable us to do his will; until we have put in practice all that we have received, it ill becomes us to find fault with him for not giving us more of the same kind of instruction.
"AND Nathan said to the king, Go, do all that is in thine heart; for the Lord is with thee." Verse 3. Nathan was a true prophet, and one who was intrusted with important messages from the Lord; yet on this occasion he gave advice that was directly contrary to the mind of the Lord. This does not show any evil intention on his part, but simply that prophets were not inspired at all times. David's plan was a laudable one, and reasoning from a human standpoint no objections to it could be seen. But Nathan did not know the mind of the Lord on this subject. If there was any blame attaching to him, it was simply in giving his own opinion before asking counsel of the Lord.
At all events we read of no rebuke administered; but that very night "the word of the Lord came to Nathan, saying, Go and tell my servant David, thus saith the Lord, Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in?" The words, "Shalt thou build me an house?" are equivalent to "Thou shalt not build me an407house." Thus in Ps. 95: 10, margin, we have the literal rendering, "If they shall enter into my rest," meaning, "They shall not enter into my rest."
FROM 1 Chron. 22: 5-10, it is evident that much more was told to David than is here recorded. David there tells Solomon that the reason why he himself was not allowed to build the house of the Lord was that he had shed blood abundantly, and made great wars. From the further statement that Solomon, to whom would be intrusted the work of building the temple, would be a man of peace, and that there should be rest and quietness in Israel all his days, we may suppose that it was not simply the wars that David had made, but also those which he was yet to make, that made it improper for him to build the Lord's house. Besides the fact that David had shed much blood, the fact that the kingdom was not yet fully established, was an objection, because he would be liable to interruption in the work by enemies. To him it was given to conquer the enemies of Israel and settle the affairs of the kingdom on a solid basis, so that his successor might prosecute the work undisturbed.
THE readiness with which the prophet recalled his first advice, at the command of the Lord, is worthy of note. He did not let a false pride keep him from telling the Lord's message, even though he was compelled to contradict his previous advice. As we look at the case, we can readily see how much better it was for Nathan to do so than to demur; for in the latter case he would suffer the additional mortification of having his counsel contradicted by some other prophet, and he himself perhaps degraded from his office. Yet we are not always able to reason so clearly in our own cases. We should ever be thankful to God when he gives us an opportunity to correct our own mistakes, and should esteem it one of his greatest blessings that he points them out to us. E. J. W.
"HE [Felix] hoped also that money should have been given him of Paul, that he might loose him; wherefore he sent for him the oftener and communed with him." Acts 24:26.
It is observed by Lardner that Felix (it might be thought) could have small hopes of receiving money from such a prisoner as Paul, had he not recollected his telling him, on a former interview, that "after many years he came to bring alms to his nation, and offerings." Hence he probably supposed that the alms might not yet be all distributed, or if they were, that a public benefactor would soon find friends to release him.
The observation is curious, and in confirmation of its truth, I will add that the personal appearance of Paul, when he was brought before Felix, was certainly not such as would give the Governor reason to believe that he had wherewithal to purchase his own freedom, but quite the contrary. For a passage in the Acts (22:28) certainly conveys very satisfactory, though indirect, evidence that the apostle wore poverty in his looks at the very period in question. When Lysias, the chief captain at Jerusalem, had been apprized that he was a Roman, he could scarcely give credit to the fact; and being further assured of it by Paul himself, he said: "With a great sum obtained I this freedom," manifestly implying a suspicion of Paul's veracity, whose appearance bespoke no such means of procuring citizenship. The cupidity, therefore, of Felix was no doubt excited, as has been said, by recollecting the errand on which his prisoner had come so lately to Jerusalem.
And this, moreover, furnishes the true explanation of the orders which Felix (very far from a merciful or indulgent officer) gave to the keeper of Paul, "to let him have liberty, and to forbid none of his acquaintances to minister or come unto him," a free admission of his friends being necessary in order that they might furnish him with the ransom.
It is true that there is no coincidence here between independent writers, but surely every unprejudiced mind must admit that there is an extremely nice, minute, and undesigned harmony between the speech of Paul and the subsequent conduct of Felix, though the cause and effect are so far from being traced by the author of the Acts that it may be doubted whether he saw any connection subsisting between them. Surely, I repeat, such a harmony must convince us that it is no fictitious or forged narrative that we are reading, but a true and very accurate detail of an actual occurrence.—Undesigned Coincidences.
Temperance.
By Herrick Johnson
High License Wrong in Principle.
THIS objection to the system is radical and fundamental. It goes to the root of the whole matter. If once persuaded that it is well taken, it ends all advocacy or connivance on the part of him of a good conscience.
The ground upon which the objection is based, is this: The actual saloon is an iniquity. The evils directly traceable to it, and that inevitably in greater or less degree flow out of it, whenever and wherever opened, are absolutely appalling. These evils affect public order, public health, public decency; they increase taxes, imperil property, endanger life. They are by confession the prolific source of crime, poverty, orphanage, disease, death. They are open, public, notorious, civic, and social. There is no such assault on health, on life, on property, on liberty, on society, on the home, as that which comes from the liquor traffic. There is not one solitary privilege that can be afforded the dram-seller consistent with the public good. The saloon exists as a moral abomination.
Now the Government, in issuing its license, virtually says, and without any possibility of question as to its meaning: "Pay me $500, and for one year you may proceed with that moral abomination. You may open a saloon and deal out strong drink, notwithstanding the fact that the saloon in any community is the invariable precursor and cause of social and moral blight and curse." The Government thus lends its high sanction to the traffic, gives it a legal status, throws about it its sacred shield, and stamps it with a legitimacy as real as if it were the most innocent and beneficent business of life.
For the Government to do that thing, whether for $5, $500, or $5,000, is a moral wrong. Governments, like individuals, must forever do right. Permits to pursue the liquor traffic are permits to make inroads on almost every interest of life. License to sell intoxicating drink carries with it not only liquor-selling, but the known and inevitable consequences of liquor-selling. This law of responsibility is true of the individual. It is just as true of the State.
But it is denied by some good men that license carries this fearful implication. It is held by them that license is simply in the nature of a tax, and is, so far as it goes, restrictive and prohibitory, giving no sanction and implying no approval.
Consult any legal authority, and see how this befogs definition and challenges common sense. Bouvier defines license: "A right given by some competent authority to do an act, which without such authority would be illegal." He defines tax: "A contribution imposed by Government on individuals for the service of the State." Now mark the unmistakable distinctions here made. License is "a right given;" tax is "a contribution imposed." License implies a privilege. Tax implies an obligation. License is a permission. Tax is a command. License gives legal status. Tax gives nothing, but requires. License is for regulation. Tax is for revenue. The very essence of license is a permit to do. The license fee is simply an incident of regulation, and does not affect the nature of license at all. Whether the fee be $500 or $5, or not a dollar, or not a cent, the act is the same, viz., Governmental permission and sanction to do a certain thing. No quibble of words can change this simple axiomatic truth. Tying Esau's hair to Jacob's hands and neck, does not change Jacob's voice. The fundamental feature of license abides, whether with high fee, or low fee, or no fee.
If license carries no sanction, but is only prohibitive, then why not license prostitution? "No," say the good men who are confounding things that differ. "No; that is a sin per se." But what difference does it make whether prostitution is a sin per se, or a sin per circumstance, if the licensing it is simply in the nature of a tax, and merely restrictive? If the position of these men is correct, then the licensing of prostitution carries no sanction, and their running to shelter under "sin per se" is blank cowardice and logical suicide. If their position is not correct, then licensing the drink-shop is formal official investment of the drink-shop, with full right to open its doors and proceed with its work of ruin. One horn of the dilemma—or the other, gentlemen. There is no alternative save to wash hands clean and forever of the whole business of license.
I know the fallacies with which honest and conscientious men strangely delude themselves here. They get their chief expression in this concentrated piece of wisdom, viz., that half a loaf is better than none at all. But is a half-loaf better than none at all? If in getting the half-loaf I must compromise with iniquity, then let the bread go. It is better to perish with hunger than to do a wrong. If in getting a few saloons closed I must sanction the saloon business by advocating license, high or low, then let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth before it speaks approval. I must not do evil that good may come.
Listen now to some of the misleading analogies by which good men seek to prop their judgment in this case: "If I have five children sick with some malignant fever, I will save three if I can't save all." Yes, but that father will do his utmost to the very last to save all. He won't go into the license business with death. He will attempt to save each child with the same fidelity and persistence with which he tries to save every other child. Anything short of that would be criminal. Now let him strive to shut all the saloons just as persistently as he would strive to save all his children, and he is a prohibitionist. Prohibition seeks to do just that, and only that.—Rev. Herrick Johnson.
A Youth-Killer.
THE cigarette is such. It is made generally of refuse tobacco, rolled in a prepared paper. The paper is injurious, if not poisonous, and the smoke of a large quantity of it would produce dangerous, if not fatal, illness. The paper is filled with tobacco made from the odds and ends of the cigar manufacturers, the stumps of cigars picked up in the street, and fished out of the sewers, old quids, and the dried leaves with which cigars are more or less compounded.
The other day we saw a very dirty, ragged old man, with his hat half full of stumps of cigars and half-chewed quids of tobacco, which he had picked up in the halls, bar-rooms, and on the side-walks, and out of the gutters. In reply to our question, what he intended doing with these loathsome things, “Sell ‘em, sir. They make cigarettes of them things.” These cigarettes are sold at very low prices, and are bought mostly by boys.—Exchange.
Tobacco and Christian Obedience
By Editor
A CORRESPONDENT writes: “I don’t think tobacco will keep any person out of Heaven.” With equal propriety we might say the same of any other worldly conformed practice or habit. The Bible commands the people of God to cleanse themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and to be not conformed to this world. A person who, for the simple gratification of his depraved appetite, habitually uses tobacco, fails to obey either of those commands.
Beer Drinking and Low Wages
HUNDREDS of working men spend a third of their daily earnings for beer, and then curse their employers because wages are so small they cannot support their families. If they would drink less beer they would likely do far less cursing.—Prohibitionist.
Truth Is Precious
Truth is precious; buy it and sell it not.
Sabbath-School Literature.
By John S. Hort
THAT great care should be taken in selecting literature for the Sabbath-school, is evidenced in the fact that no books are read so much as Sabbath-school books, except novels. It is not by any means certain that even novels are an exception. A good, well-selected Sabbath-school library, even with the best care and management, is worn-out in about three years. Many of the books indeed are lost or destroyed. But most of them are literally worn-out by oft-repeated reading. A book taken home by a child is read during the week not only by him, but often by the father and the mother, by brothers and sisters, in fact by a majority of the household. Many a Sabbath-school book is read by not less than one hundred persons during the course of a year. Is this true of any other book, even of the most fashionable novel? What has been said of Sabbath-school books, is true in a still greater degree of Sabbath-school papers. They are read and re-read; they pass from hand to hand, from family to family; they are often collected from one school, after being used, and sent off to another, and so kept circulating, as long as the paper on which they are printed will hold together.
I doubt the propriety of using Sabbath-school books to answer infidel objections. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, it is only bringing these objections for the first time to the child’s knowledge. Books for the young should teach positively, not negatively; directly and affirmatively, not controversially. The best way to exclude false ideas on religious subjects from the minds of children, is to preoccupy and fill their minds with true ideas.—John S. Hort.