"THE good lands! what's that?" excitedly cried frightened Aunt Deborah.
Aunt Deborah might well exclaim in surprise. For as she sat knitting quietly and humming a quaint old tune of long ago—one she had learned as a child—c-r-rash! bang! came a stone into the room, shivering the window-pane, just missing the swinging lamp in the hall-way, making an ugly scar on the cabinet, and breaking into fragments a handsome vase; then, as if satisfied with the mischief it had done, it rolled lazily across the floor, and finally stopped under the table, an inert, jagged bit of granite.
Aunt Deborah, as the stone pursued its reckless course, placed her hands over her head, and shrank back into her chair, a frightened and unwilling witness to the destruction of her property. It was quite distressing. Besides the nervous shock, there was the broken window; there was the cabinet showing a great white dent that could not easily be removed; and there, too, was the vase she had kept so many long years, lying shattered and ruined before her eyes.
Aunt Deborah was one of the best and most kind-hearted of women; but she was human, and the sudden havoc wrought by the missile exasperated as well as frightened her. She rushed to the window and opened it in time to see three or four boys scampering down the street as fast as their legs could carry them.
"Oh, you young scape-graces!" she cried. "If I could once lay hold on you, wouldn't I teach you a lesson!"
But the boys never stopped until they had disappeared around a friendly corner. Aunt Deborah was overcome by the accident, and so intent upon watching the retreating boys to whom she desired to teach a lesson, that she did not at first notice a barefooted boy standing under the window on the pavement below, holding a battered old hat in his hand, and looking up at her with a scared face and tearful eyes.
"Please, Miss," said the boy tremulously.
"Oh! who are you? Who threw that stone at my window?" cried out Aunt Deborah, as she spied him.
"Please, Miss," pleaded the boy, fumbling nervously his torn hat, "I threw it, but I didn't mean to do it."
"Didn't mean to do it, eh?" replied Aunt Deborah, fiercely. "I suppose the stone picked itself up and pitched itself through my glass."
"I was going to throw it down the street, but Bill Philper touched my arm, and it turned and hit your window," he explained.
There was an air of frankness and truth about the boy, and the fact that he had not run away like the others (who, somehow, Aunt Deborah held chiefly responsible for the outrage), caused her to relent a little toward him.
"Come in here," she said, after eying him closely for a moment.
The lad hesitated; but summoning all his courage, he went up the steps, and soon stood in her presence.
"Do you see that?" she said, pointing at the window—"and that?"—at the cabinet—"and that?"—at the broken vase—"and that?"—at the stone. "Now, isn't that a fine performance?"
"I'm very sorry," said the boy, the tears welling into his eyes again.
He looked ruefully about at the damaged articles, and glanced at the stone, wishing heartily that he had never seen it.
"Now, what's to be done about it?" asked she.
"I don't know ma'am," said he, very ill at ease. "I will try to pay you for it."
"What can you pay, I should like to know?" she said, glancing at his patched coat and trousers and his torn hat.
"I sell papers," said he, "and I can pay you a little on it every week."
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Sam Wadley," answered the boy.
"Have you a father?"
"No, ma'am," replied Sam; "he's dead."
"Have you a mother?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What does she do?" continued Aunt Deborah.
"She sews, and I help her all I can, selling newspapers."
"How can you pay me anything, then?"
"Please, ma'am, I'll tell mother all about it, and she'll be willing for me to pay you all I make."
"Well, now, we'll see if you are a boy who keeps his word," said Aunt Deborah.
"How much must I pay?" Sam inquired anxiously.
"Let me see." Aunt Deborah put on her spectacles and made a critical survey of the room. "Window—fifty cents; vase—one dollar—I wouldn't have had it broken for five! That'll do—one dollar and a half. I shan't charge you for that dent in the furniture."
"I'll try to pay you something on it every week," said Sam. "There are some days when I don't make anything, but when I do, I will save it for you."
"Very well," said Aunt Deborah; "you may go now."
He thanked her, and went slowly out, while Aunt Deborah began to pick up the fragments strewn over the floor.
"Oh, wait a moment!" she cried. Sam came back.
"Take this stone out with you, and be careful what you do with it, next time," she said. "By the way, if you wish to keep out of trouble, you'd better not keep company with that Flipper boy"—Aunt Deborah had a rather poor memory for names. "If I had him wouldn't I give him a lesson!"
She uttered the last sentence with such a relish that Sam was glad enough to get away. He was afraid she might conclude to bestow upon him the salutary lesson which she had proposed to give "Flipper," as she called him.
Sam hurried home as fast as he could. His mother, a pale, delicate woman whose wan features and sunken eyes showed the effect of too hard work, heard his simple tale, wiped away his tears, and encouraged him in his resolve to pay for the damage he had done. From that day Sam began to be very diligent, and to earn pennies in every honest way possible to him. And every week he carried some small amount to Aunt Deborah.
"That boy has some good in him," she said, when he had brought his first installment. And, though she grew more kind to him every time he came, occasionally giving him a glass of milk, a sandwich or a cake, she rarely failed to warn him against the influence of that "Flipper" boy.
His young companions laughed at him for paying his money to Aunt Deborah, and called him a coward for not running away when they ran; but all they said did not turn him from his purpose.
One evening he went away with a cheerful heart to pay his last installment. As he passed the window of the sitting room he glanced in. There sat Aunt Deborah, earnestly knitting. The lamp-light fell upon her sober face, and Sam wondered if she ever looked really smiling and pleasant. "It doesn't seem as though she would be so stiff with a fellow," he said to himself. Then, in response to her, "Come in," he entered the room and handed her the money.
"I believe that is all ma'am," said he.
"Yes, that pays the whole sum," said Aunt Deborah; "you have done well."
"I am still very sorry I have troubled you, and I hope you forgive me," he said.
"I do, with all my heart," she said, earnestly.
"Thank you," said Sam, as he started out, picking up his old hat from the floor, where he had placed it on entering.
"Come back," said Aunt Deborah; "I've something more to say to you."
With a startled look he turned into the room. Aunt Deborah went to the cabinet and unlocked it. She first took out a pair of new shoes, then half a dozen pair of socks, some underclothing, two nice shirts, a neat, woolen suit, and lastly a good felt hat.
"Sam," said she, to the astonished lad, "I have taken your money, not because I wanted it, but because I wished to test you. I wished to see whether you really meant to pay me. That Flipper boy would never have done it, I am sure. You have done so well in bringing me your little savings that I have learned to like you very much. Now I wish to make you a present of these articles. In the pocket of this jacket you will find the money you have paid me. I wouldn't take a cent of it. It is yours. You must keep working and adding to it, so that you can soon help your mother more. Go to work now with a light heart, and grow up a true and honest man. Tell your mother I say she has a fine son."
In making this speech, Aunt Deborah's features relaxed into a pleasant smile; and Sam smiled, too, and was so pleased that he could hardly utter his thanks.
"And, mind," she continued, suddenly changing the current of his thoughts, "don't associate with that Flipper boy."
"Please, ma'am," said Sam, feeling a twinge of conscience that his former companion should bear so much of the blame, "you have been very kind to me, but Bill Philper didn't know the stone would turn as it did, and break your window."
"Then why did he run away?" inquired733Aunt Deborah somewhat fiercely. "It's quite proper that you should try to excuse him, Sam; but I should like to teach him a good lesson."
"You—you—have taught me a good lesson," said Sam, with a blushing face; "and I—I—thank you very much for it."
Aunt Deborah smiled benignly again, and, warmly bidding Sam to come often to see her, she let him out at the door. She felt very happy as Sam disappeared down the street; and he was very happy, as he hurried home with his great bundle, and told his mother all about it, which made that good woman very happy, too. So they were very happy all around. And it all came about because Sam had stood up like a brave boy to confess his wrong, which is always manly; and had offered reparation for it, which is always right; and had gone forward, in spite of the taunts of his companions, denying himself pleasures and comforts, in order to do that which he knew to be right, which is always heroic.—St. Nicholas.
The Home Circle.
By Mary Riley Smith
SOMETIME.
SOMETIME, when all life's lessons have been learned,
And sun and stars forevermore have set,
The things which our weak judgments here have spurned,
The things o'er which we grieved with lashes wet,
Will flash before us out of life's dark night,
As stars shine most in deepest tints of blue,
And we shall see how all God's plans were right,
And how what seemed reproof was love most true.
And we shall see how while we frown and sigh,
God's plans go on as best for you and me;
How, when we called, he heeded not our cry,
Because his wisdom to the end could see,
And e'en as prudent parents disallowed
Too much of sweet to craving babyhood,
So God, perhaps, is keeping from us now
Life's sweetest things, because it seemeth good.
And if sometimes commingled with life's wine,
We find the wormwood, and rebel and shrink,
Be sure a wiser hand than yours or mine
Pours out this potion for our lips to drink;
And if some friend we love is lying low
Where human kisses cannot reach his face,
Oh, do not blame the loving Father so,
But wear your sorrows with obedient grace.
And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath
Is not the sweetest gift God sends his friends,
And that sometimes the sable pall of death
Conceals the fairest boon his love can send.
If we could push ajar the gates of life,
And stand within and all God's workings see,
We could interpret all this doubt and strife,
And for each mystery could find a key.
But not to-day. Then be content, poor heart;
God's plans, like lilies, pure and white unfold;
We must not tear the close shut leaves apart—
Time will reveal the calyces of gold;
And if through patient toil we reach the land
Where tired feet, with sandals loosed, may rest,
When we shall clearly know and understand,
I think we will say, "God knew the best."
—Mary Riley Smith.
Health and Temperance.
By Mrs. James Havens
Opium and Tobacco.
OFFICIAL reports show that the demand for opium is such that its importation into the United States is increasing with alarming rapidity. And the number of fresh victims upon the shrine of this fascinating Moloch increases with the dawning of every morning and the setting of every sun. And it is erroneous to suppose that only depraved and abandoned characters become victims of the terrible "opium habit." In my careful researches on this subject I have found far more victims of opium whose lives have been passed in the surroundings of wealth, intelligence, and culture, than in the haunts of squalor, wretchedness, and crime (the latter being chiefly addicted to alcohol, tobacco, and chloroform).
Women of refinement and culture, of more or less note, men of grandeur of intellect and apparent moral character, youth with its rose-tinted hopes of a glorious, possible future, all alike are subject to the fascinations and entanglements of this seductive devil!
Ministers, whose trumpet notes of warning to flee the wrath to come, ring in tones of eloquent entreaty from the pulpit, are themselves standing helpless, hopeless, and powerless upon the ghastly brink of a narcotic hell! And there are learned physicians, too, who daily and hourly listen to the song of this siren, knowing full well that every sylvan note but draws them nearer and nearer to their impending doom!
No department of business, no profession however exalted and pure, is exempt from the horror of the opium hell if once induced to enter the maelstrom of its fascination and seductive influence. The various narcotic habits are tightening upon our people like the ever-contracting folds of an iron shroud, from which there is no escape. Tobacco has become the all-powerful, all-potent ruler of men. The grandest minds, the proudest intellects in our commonwealth freely acknowledge their subserviency to this disgusting narcotic.
Meta Lander, in her excellent work on the "Tobacco Problem," has shown the disgusting slavery of tobacco in a truthful manner, and we cordially indorse her book and recommend it to the careful reading of all our State and local superintendents of narcotics.
But while the tobacco habit is enslaving the men of America, we find with alarm the growing tendency of our people, especially the women, toward the formation of drug habits, especially morphine, chloral, chloroform, and cocaine. But for several years I have been fully impressed with the idea that of all the stimulants and narcotics to which mankind has fallen victim the "opium habit" is without a parallel in its devastating influence.
While alcohol has filled our land with woe by the enslaving of our men, opium has reaped its harvest of devastation among our women, and has wrought a weight of woe and home desecration unknown to the demon of alcohol. Opium is more seductive and deceptive than alcohol, or any other narcotic. It carries with it the golden keys to the sunniest bowers of Paradise, erelong to unlock for its victims the lowest depths of the ghastliest hell. But the supernal ecstasies of the opium paradise can in nowise compensate for the unutterable horrors of the opium hell!
Study the evil more carefully in all its fearful forms, arrange wise, energetic, patient committees who will conscientiously prosecute the work of this toilful department. Strenuous legislative enactment against the pernicious sale of opium, chloral, cocaine, and chloroform, is our present aim and hope. I learn with sorrow that many of our State and local Unions are entirely without a department of narcotics.
Dear sisters, the woe is upon us, and its insidious presence is sitting to-day as a ghastly specter by the hearth-stones of thousands of once happy homes in our land! It rests upon us as the deepening shadow of a great sin, and shall we longer live blindly indifferent to its baleful invasion?
And this fearful narcotic desecration is permitted by one of the grandest Governments the sun ever smiled upon! Upon whom rests the blame? Upon us all if we now fail to take advantage of the spirit of the times that evidently points encouragingly toward the possible future when narcotic addiction will be rendered far more difficult by wise and prudent legislative enactment. Dear sisters, shall I appeal in vain for your assistance in this important and toilful department?—Mrs. James Havens, National Superintendent and Lecturer W. C. T. U., Department of Narcotics, Denver, Colorado, in Union Signal.
Sir John and the "Erebus."
By The Pansy
FORTY-ONE years ago last May, England fitted out Sir John with two fine ships. They were the Erebus and Terror. Away they sailed from the wharf, where many came to see them off, among them Lady Franklin, Sir John's wife.
Away they pushed through the sea toward the North. On they went, further and further from their home, to see if they could find the north pole or what was called the "northwest passage." Soon they met icebergs, or great mountain castles, moving down from the North. But the Erebus and Terror turned aside and sailed north, north, north, hundreds of miles.
Then the winter came on. The two ships were soon hedged in by the ice. They could neither go forward nor backward. The ice became thicker and thicker; the nights longer and colder. The men were clothed in fur, and there were stoves in the ships, but they shivered with the cold. No word came to them from their friends. They tried, however, to be cheerful, hoping for spring and the breaking up of the ice so they could sail out of their prison and find the Northwest passage. They sang, told stories, read, celebrated each other's birthday; good Sir John read sermons and prayers to his men, as was his custom, and exhorted them to be of good cheer. It was a joyful thought to them of making wonderful discoveries in that strange land, and then coming back some day with the news. But the spring came and went, another and another, but no tidings of Sir John. Then there was alarm. Meetings were called, speeches made, great sums of money raised; brave captains and crews offered to go in search of him. Vessel after vessel went and came, only to report failure.
Five years passed; seven; nine; ten—hope was dying—eleven. Lady Franklin did not give up, but fitted out, at her own expense, a little ship. Captain and sailors bid good-by to wives and friends, not knowing they would ever see them again, as they resolved not to come back till they found out something as to the fate of Sir John. So this little ship disappeared far away northward, and, like the others, in a few weeks was in the midst of majestic palaces of ice. But it worked its way on, when lo! one day, as the captain was hunting here and there, he came upon parts of a ship, and he knew it was Sir John's. He also found Sir John's own handwriting and many other things that told of great sufferings and death.
It appeared that he had died June 11, 1847, but he was not found till 1857. All had perished. He was a noble man, with a heart tender as a woman's. When the little ship came back with the news, England mourned, as did this nation, over the fate of Sir John Franklin.—The Pansy.
Why Canon Farrar Signed the Pledge.
CLERGYMEN of the English Establishment have been so slow to accept the American theory and practice of temperance, i. e., total abstinence, that the following opinion of the distinguished Archdeacon of Westminster has all the more weight:—
My reasons for taking the pledge were partly general and partly special. First, I became convinced that the use of alcohol in any form was not a necessity. I saw that whole nations have lived and flourished without it. I believed that the whole race of man had existed for centuries previous to its discovery. I was struck by the indisputable fact that in England 20,000 inhabitants of our prisons, accustomed to it all their lives, and the majority of them brought into prison directly or indirectly by the use of it, could be, and were, from the moment of their imprisonment, absolutely deprived of it, not only without loss, but with entire gain to their personal health. Men enter prison sickly and blighted, are deprived of drink, and leave prison strong and hale; and women who, when incarcerated, are hideous to look upon, after being made compulsorily sober by act of Parliament, recover the bloom of health and almost of beauty.
Next, I derived from the recorded testimony of some of our most eminent physicians, that the use of alcohol is a subtle and manifold source of disease, even to thousands who use it in quantities conventionally deemed moderate; and from the testimony even of many who discountenance total abstinence, that all the young, and all the healthy, and all who eat well and sleep well, do not require it and are undoubtedly better off without it. Then the carefully drawn statistics of many insurance societies convinced me that total abstinence, so far from shortening life, distinctly and indisputably conduce to longevity. Then I accumulated evidence that drink is so far from being requisite to physical strength, or intellectual force, that many of the greatest athletes, from the days of Samson onwards, "whose drink was only at the crystal brook," have achieved without alcohol mightier feats than those which have been achieved with it; and many of the world's wisest, even if they have not said Pindar, have yet drawn out a better inspiration from other sources than can be drawn chemically from the fumes of wine.
Seeing all which and much more; seeing, too, in the holy Scriptures God's own approval of his Nazarites, who, as the prophet Jeremiah tells us, were purer than snow—"They were whiter than milk, they were more ruddy in body than rubies, their polishing was of sapphire"—I saw, or thought I saw, grounds sufficient, and superfluously sufficient, to make me an abstainer.—Sel.
Note.
By Dr. Cunningham Geikie
The householder thus makes the first last, and the last first, because the first had been working for hire, while the others had simply trusted his promise. He who works in my kingdom for the sake of a reward hereafter, may do his work well, but he honors me less than others who trust me without thinking of future gain. The spirit in which you labor for me gives your service its value. He who is called late in life and serves me unselfishly, will stand higher at the great day than he who has served me longer, but with a less noble motive. Many are called to join my kingdom and work in it, but few show themselves by their spirit and zeal especially worthy of honor. If the first find themselves last, it will depend on themselves, for though no one can claim reward as his due in the kingdom of God, yet I give it of favor, to those first who serve me most purely. He, I repeat, who works most devotedly, without thought of reward, will be first, though, perhaps, last to be called; he will be chosen to honor, while others less zealous and loving, though earlier called, will remain undistinguished.
SECULAR.
—A fire in Duluth, Minn., a few days since, destroyed elevators and other property to the value of about $1,000,000.
—November 19, the Haddock murderers at Sioux City were all admitted to bail in sums ranging from $15,000 to $25,000.
—A blunder of a telegraph operator in Missouri, a few days since, caused a serious railroad accident in which two men lost their lives.
—A cyclone struck Girard, Kansas, November 22, doing considerable damage to light buildings. Several persons were seriously injured.
—The captain and seven of the crew of the French man-of-war Penguin, were massacred recently by the natives of one of the Feejee group.
—An explosion of fire-damp in a Wilkesbarre, Pa., coal mine a few days ago seriously burned and otherwise injured forty-two men, twelve of them fatally.
—Montana is anxious for a Statehood. A committee of citizens at Helena is getting up a strong memorial to Congress and will go to Washington to press the claim.
—The Municipal Council of Paris has requested United States Minister McLane to intercede with the Governor of Illinois in behalf of the condemned Anarchists of Chicago.
—November 25, a rain-storm, accompanied by cyclonic manifestations, swept over the center of Gloucester County, N. J. In the vicinity of Pitman Grove the wind blew with the force of a tornado. One report says: “The thunder, lightning, and hail were terrific.”
—The Emperor of Austria, who is a great smoker, has been ordered by the doctors to give up the weed. They attribute his neuralgia to it.
—The spread of cholera in the Republic of Buenos Ayres, S. A., is creating great alarm. On the 26th ult. seventy-two new cases and fifty-four deaths were reported at Rosario.
—Sunday, November 21, the Socialists of London held a monster mass meeting in Trafalgar Square. The temper of the meeting was very bad and many of the banners bore incendiary inscriptions.
—Another Anarchist plot has been discovered in Chicago. The plan is to blow up the water tower some stormy night, start fires in several different places, and then capture the city during the confusion.
—Lord Salisbury, replying to the memorial which the Socialists left at his residence recently, says of the proposals which it contained: “I am unable to adopt or support them, as I am convinced that the proposals, if effected, would cause additional distress and suffering far exceeding what prevails at present.”
—November 27, Superintendent Bell, of the Foreign Mail Office, received a dispatch from the Postmaster General of Belgium informing the department that the United States mail for Russia, while passing through that country on the night of the 26th, was robbed of 141 registered packages. It is supposed that the robbers secured about $200,000.
—The Seth Thomas Clock Co., of Thomaston, Conn., have prepared drawings for the great clock which is to be placed in the tower of the new city hall at Philadelphia, and which, if completed in accordance with their plans, will be the largest in the world. The bells upon which it will strike the hours and quarters will weigh fifty thousand pounds, and the glass dials, as contemplated, measure 25 feet in diameter.
—The New York Tribune’s cable special of November 27, from London, says: “The Irish crisis has arrived at last, as was predicted, and political circles both in London and Dublin are exceedingly disturbed by the possibilities before us.” Another dispatch says: “In the opinion of leading Liberals the Government is entering into a labyrinth from which there is no escape in safety. Shelving the Irish question next session will be found impracticable.”
—In his speech from the throne, read by the Minister of the Interior at the opening of the Reichstag, the other day, Emperor William says: “Although the policy of the empire is always pacific, Germany, in view of the development of the military establishments of neighboring States, cannot longer defer increasing her defensive force, especially her peace effective. A bill, therefore, will be submitted providing for an increase to take effect from the beginning of the new financial year.”
News and Notes.
By Editor
RELIGIOUS.
—It is stated that “at the recent English Church Congress the discussion on the topic of ‘The Church and Amusements’ showed the predominant tone to be in favor of a more indulgent spirit toward the better class of dramatic and musical entertainment.” We are a little curious to know how that church can be “more indulgent” toward “dramatic and musical entertainments.”
—The New York Commercial Advertiser says: “We are not discouraging or sneering at foreign missions, but some day Christians may wake up to the fact that New York is one of the largest pagan cities in the world, larger than Bombay, Singapore, or Kioto; that more men and women are dying in sight of Christian spires and in sound of Christian bells than are dying outside of Christian influence in any part of those heathen centers named.”
—The New York Times says that by the death of the Marquis of Ailesbury, his son, Lord Savemake, becomes the owner “of eleven livings of the Church of England.” This son is a frequenter of concert saloons and betting rings—“a cross between a professional pugilist and a betting tout”—but under the laws of the Established Church he is the owner of eleven pulpits and of the revenues that support them, and may sell the same to the highest bidders.
—Under the caption, “Misleading Spirits,” the Golden Gate (Spiritualist), of August 7, says: “Whoever surrenders his individual judgment and places his trust implicitly upon the communications of spirits, as given through promiscuous mediumship, is almost certain to be deceived.” It would not be amiss to say, “is absolutely certain to be deceived;” for we read (Rev. 16: 14) that “they are the spirits of devils, working miracles.” And again, the apostle Paul describes Spiritualism as working “with all power and signs and lying wonders, and with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish.” 2 Thess. 2: 9, 10. The only safe course for any one is to follow the rule laid down in Isa. 8: 19, 20.
Obituary.
By Calvin P. Bollman
BOLLMAN.—Died in Oakland, Cal., Nov. 23, 1886, of inflammation of the lungs, stomach, and bowels, caused by whooping-cough, Anna I., youngest daughter of Calvin P. and Lena Bollman, aged 1 year, 10 months, and 25 days. The funeral was held on the 25th from the Seventh-day Adventist church. Appropriate words of comfort were spoken by Elder John Fulton, after which we laid the little emaciated form of our loved one away to await the morning of the resurrection, when, if faithful, we know that she will be restored to us in that land where “there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.” C. P. B.
Gregory
By John Norton Loughborough
GREGORY.—Died at St. Helena, Cal., Nov. 18, of lingering consumption, Prof. W. B. Gregory, aged 29 years and 6 months. The last few weeks of his life he spent in carefully reviewing the past, and confessing all his sins. His mind seemed to derive great consolation from Psalms 147:11: “The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy.” This he often repeated with great satisfaction. He came to California in the spring of 1885 with a friend who kindly cared for him during his last sickness. The funeral services were conducted by the writer, Sabbath afternoon, November 20, and we laid him away to rest for a “little while,” until the Life-giver shall appear.
J. N. LOUGHBOROUGH.
Publishers' Department.
By Editor
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OUR COUNTRY,
By Uriah Smith
THE MARVEL OF NATIONS:
ITS PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE, AND WHAT THE SCRIPTURES SAY OF IT.
By U. SMITH.
Author of "Smith's Parliamentary Rules," and Other Popular Works.
This is a new and popular work on a subject of the deepest interest to all American citizens. It takes a brief but comprehensive view of our Government from a
HISTORICAL, POLITICAL, AND RELIGIOUS STANDPOINT.
It also shows that the United States is a subject of prophecy; that an outline of its history was written nearly two thousand years ago. It calls the attention of the reader to a
CHAIN OF PROPHECY,
Of which our Government is an important link, and shows that the location, the time of its rise, the nature of its Constitution, and its wonderful growth and subsequent influence, as well as its future attitude, were all clearly foreseen and pointed out by the Prophet of God, hundreds of years ago. The SUNDAY QUESTION, MODERN SPIRITUALISM, AND NATIONAL REFORM are prominent among the topics ably discussed in this work.
The "Marvel of Nations" is a work of 282 pages. It contains a steel plate of the author, and over forty illustrations. It is printed in clear type and elegantly bound. Price $1.00.
The publishers of THE AMERICAN SENTINEL being desirous of securing a large subscription list at once, have made arrangements with the publishers of "The Marvel of Nations" whereby they are enabled to furnish this interesting and popular book, together with their paper, one year, for only $1.25.
Address,
AMERICAN SENTINEL,
1059 Castro Street, Oakland, Cal.
MAN'S NATURE AND DESTINY:
By Uriah Smith
OR,
THE STATE OF THE DEAD, THE REWARD OF THE RIGHTEOUS, AND THE END OF THE WICKED.
BY ELDER URIAH SMITH.
This work is a thorough canvass of the great question of a future life, the nature of man in the present life, and the condition of immortality from a logical and Scriptural standpoint.
Every text in the Bible which has any possible bearing upon these points, is taken up and carefully explained, thus giving the most comprehensive view of the subject that has yet been presented.
"Man's Nature and Destiny" contains 444 pages, and is printed from clear, new plates, on heavy paper, and is attractively bound in green muslin, with gilt side and black titles. All orders will be promptly filled by mail or express. Price, $1.25.
This work shows the nature of the mistake made in expecting the Lord to come in 1844, which was not an error of time computation, but in the nature of the event to take place, namely, the cleansing of the Sanctuary. The work sheds a flood of light on the Scriptures, especially on the subject of the Atonement.
352 pp. Price, cloth, $1.00. Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal.