Earlier text: INCIDENTS BY THE WAYIn the Plaza of Indecision, at the forking of two roads, whence one trends invitingly downward, broad and social, while the other rises steep and unfrequented, the only direction of the divine finger is toward the heart of the questioning pilgrim. “Which direction shall I take?” indecisively asks the traveler. The only answer is a whisper from the still, small voice, “Whither art thou bound?” The soul instinctively replies, “I want to go Heavenward.” But to this there comes no reply—and why? The index finger points silently within. The way is plain enough, pilgrim—but what of thy will? It is thus with all the cross-purposes of life. From out the true path there are constantly leading short cuts into the false. These are filled with multitudes who, insisting at every turn upon a sign, have none given them save that of the prophet Jonas. They know as well as he knew that it is impossible to reach Nineveh by traveling toward Tarshish. Common sense determines us, if we desire to reach the summit, not to take a left or right-hand divergence down a hill. Is it not plain, therefore, that moral hesitation is due more to want of definite motive than to lack of guidance? Men indulge doubt when dawning conscience would send them forth about their Father's business. Forgetful of the courage of the Child in the temple, they hastily rejoin the first returning company. How often we hear men say, “I want to be a Christian.” That may be; but if so, and if the want be not satisfied, it is a confession of imbecility. The true criterion by which to judge the genuineness of such an avowal is the answer to the pointed query, “Then why, if you have enough decision of character to know your own mind, do you not will to become a follower of Christ?” This direct, personal appeal to common sense ought in all cases to be sufficient in determining the honesty of such a declaration, and would be, were it not for the fact that right here on the very Plaza of Indecision, whence fork the eternal ways, theologians have succeeded after centuries of metaphysical miasm in raising a fog dense enough to hide the divine index, and damp enough to chill the most enthusiastic soul. In answer to the oft-repeated question, “What is conversion?” there is no necessary obscurity, although obscurity has been thrown around it. The word means simply con-verto—about face! A man is converted from intemperance when he turns his back upon alcohol and becomes a constant abstainer. He may or may not take the step under the influence of emotion. The question of fact alone is whether he really gives up the bad. Exactly so with the Christian life. There are two roads, call them what we may; right or left, good or evil, Heaven or hell. It makes no difference with the fact. There are but two possible paths for the human soul to choose between, and it can contemporaneously travel but one. Herein comes Christ's criterion. What is your motive in life? Apply this test. Am I living for self, or for what good I can do in the world? There is no evasion in our secret answer to this question. Serve you this day God or Mammon? Conscience will answer like a flash of lightning—and we know it. The young lawyer came to Christ saying, “What shall I do?” Did the Master inquire about his “feelings” or “experience”? Not a syllable of theology blunted that single divinely-pointed command: “Sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor.” It struck straight at the man's motive in life. While outwardly all that the moral law required, he was secretly serving Mammon. The result verified Christ's diagnosis, since he went away sorrowful. What! give up wealth! Wealth means position, power, admiration, and, above all else, culture. Are we then required to sacrifice these, the climacteric advantages of civilization? Yes, and no. Yes, if we are living for any of them; if our motive is self-aggrandizement. No, if we are using opportunity, influence, intellect, for the advancement of God's kingdom on earth. Suppose a scholar had come to Christ with the lawyer's query, think you he would have been told to give up his books and all intellectual pursuits? Certainly not, unless he was living for culture—for the pride of intellect. The question at the last great day will be, “I gave thee ten talents, now for the accounting!” Suppose the soul thus confronted says, “I have written many learned volumes.” They are produced. The thoughts are beautiful, the sentences exquisitely rounded. But, alas! from between the lines there flashes the fact that all was written for a selfish purpose—for the worship paid authorship. But the good they have incidentally accomplished is pleaded in extenuation. Alas, soul, what now is that to thee! You lived for self, your thoughts were of self, you wrote for self; there, to the left, is self's eternity. In the light of so crucial a test, who then can be saved? In this, as in all God's dealings, the promise is as broad as the curse. “Whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.” What! Heaven for a cup of water, and Gehenna for its refusal! Even so; and why? Because there is all the difference between good and bad, love and selfishness, the Saviour and the serpent, in the two simple operations of giving or withholding. The deed is but an exponent—back of that is the motive that prompts it. Either I love my neighbor as myself or I do not, and it matters little what the temporary outcome is. It is thus that between the extended palm and the closed fist there is space for an eternity of infinite joy or woe. And men know it.—Christian Union. THE MARK IN THE FOREHEAD.
By Mrs. J. E. M’Connaughy
When a Hindoo rises in the morning, he first of all prays to his god, and the exercise is not over in a minute or two. He takes time for his devotions, such as they are. Then he puts the mark of his god on his forehead. If he belongs to one great party, he makes three rays of paint on his forehead; if to the other, he puts ashes upon it, and a black spot in the center. Then when he goes about his daily affairs every one knows what god he worships. There is something suggestive to Christians in the practice of these pagans. Shall we give less time in the morning to our God than they to their stocks and stones? If our closet hour were more regarded, would not his mark be plainer in our foreheads? Would not our daily life show that we had been with Jesus in the morning? When we walk through a garden, and gather our hands full of clover pinks and damask roses, no one needs to ask us where we have been. There are some whose lives seem to breathe a constant perfume from the garden of spices, and often they are very lowly ones here on earth. Sometimes, like the sainted Mrs. Doremus, they have wealth and high position. This high honor is accessible to all, of any rank or station, but it is attained by each in the same lowly way. The spirit of devotion is the daily breath. Communion with God can make the face glow, as did Moses', when he came down from the mount. Sometimes you will hear surprise expressed that such a person is a member of the church. “I should never have suspected it,” says one who has had dealings with him. The mark in the forehead was thought to belong to quite another party. It is generally taken for granted by those without, that, if one is a Christian, his life should show it. When he does not, he is regarded much as a soldier would be who is not true to his colors. But that is a small consideration compared with that which the Lord places upon him. Those who have not “the mark,” as they go about among men, will hear at the last the cold declaration, “I never knew you.”—Mrs. J. E. M’Connaughy, in S. S. Times. A STRANGE PRACTICE.
By F. A. B.
About fifty years ago, there was a baptism in Northern New York which occasioned, at the time, much comment, from the fact that the candidates, although converted under the labors of a Congregationalist clergyman, insisted that he should immerse them. After preaching a sermon in the morning against immersion and in favor of sprinkling, the minister stepped into deep water, and dipped his wayward (?) converts. During the ordinance, a young Baptist minister, who witnessed it from the bank, penned the following lines:— “’Tis very strange, we frankly own,
That those who preach immersion down,
Will, after all the things they say,
Consent to tread that frantic way,
And from the pulpit straight repair
To practice what they censure there.
But, rather than lose a wandering sheep,
Whom all their reasoning cannot keep,
To please the man (and not his God),
They will immerse him in the flood.
Pray be consistent, condescender,
Thy own good name due service render;
Don’t make thy reputation bleed
By ridiculing thine own creed.
Pray consider (do n’t despise,
What one sincerely would advise)
Before thou dost this work begin,
What’s not of faith must be of sin;
And how can willing souls that view
What urgent duty bids them do,
Receive from such reluctant hands,
A work that full belief demands?” A WRITER asks the following questions:— When the following classes are taken out of our churches, how many would be left? All who will not pay just debts. All who are hypocritical. All who are deceitful, and talk about others behind their backs. All who get into debt without a prospect of paying the same. All who are proud and scornful, holding themselves above their fellow-men, and shunning those less fortunate than themselves. All who worship money more than they do their Creator. All who speculate on the ignorance of others. All who think more of wicked rich men than they do of a pious poor man. All who oppress the poor. All who make long prayers for the sake of being heard and seen of men. All who are vain and self-conceited. When these, and a good many others that could be mentioned, are taken out, the church will be left without a member. The religion of Jesus does not have any of the above defects. It makes the true convert cheerful, hopeful, and charitable, disposed to visit the widow and orphan, and to keep unspotted from the world. It does not make one proud or scornful; but, on the contrary, makes one desirous of doing good, to be meek and humble, and to be kind to all as opportunity may offer. Evening Reflection on Daily Deeds
—The day is growing to its close,
And what good deeds since first it rose,
Have I presented, Lord, to thee,
As offerings of my ministry?
What wrongs repressed? what fruits maintained?
What struggles passed? what victory gained?
What good attempted and attained?
—Longfellow's Golden Legend. CALMING THE TROUBLED WATERS.
It would seem that Russia is at last perceiving the secret of its troubles, and applying an effective anodyne. The good physician has appeared under the terrifying name of “dictator,” but his dictation thus far appears to extend to the powers above him rather than to those below. He is fairly controlling the Czar and the imperial family in the interest of a kinder rule, and his “Peace, be still,” is certainly calming the troubled waters. Melikoff, the converted dictator, is increasing the number of the High Commission appointed to be his aids and counselors, and is taking to his confidence men rather than names. He is calling some from the army and others from the civil offices, but in all cases men whom he has tried and therefore knows. And, in doing this, he has the rare good fortune to receive the general praise of the Russian press. The work of the High Commission is being carried on with great dispatch. Nearly all the political trials on the docket have been revised, and the most of them have been dismissed, while a consistent and harmonious code for all the provinces has been sent to the respective civil courts. One branch of the Commission has just committed the very sensible act of remitting to city authorities the sum of thirty thousand roubles that were appropriated to it for the secret detective service. Another branch is revising the documents regarding those persons who have been expelled or placed under police supervision, and the result is the reduction of nearly one-half of the list, especially in the case of the students, who have expressed regret for their conduct and brought good testimonials from their teachers as to recent demeanor. Nearly all the students recently banished from the four university cities have been pardoned, and instead of going to Siberia they come off with a few months’ imprisonment, and even this is quite likely to be annulled at the request of the general governor of Charkoff, the headquarters. These sensible measures are having their influence, and for the moment there is a lull in murder and assassination, and the Nihilist press is much more mild in its demands; for, in spite of the destruction of several of their printing offices, they still manage to circulate a goodly number of documents. Their demands, however, are no longer so fierce and bloodthirsty, though still very radical. They accept the milder treatment of Melikoff, and now appeal to the milder elements of their followers. They are just now appearing as a political element rather than as a destructive one. They demand for their platform universal suffrage, sovereignty of the people, dissolution of the standing army, formation of a militia, local self-government, etc., instead of their old programme of universal annihilation. In the meanwhile Melikoff pays no special attention to some of these excessive demands, but goes on in the even tenor of his reforms in the various departments. A new chief has been appointed for the bureau that supervises the press, and he has already worked out a plan that will probably be adopted for the whole empire, and which suspends the entire system of warnings and suspensions, and places the press under the common law. But the most unexpected lenity comes from a committee of three commissioners, of which Melikoff is the chairman, in regard to the question of the dissenting sects which have hitherto been treated with great severity. All these are now to enjoy equal privileges with the orthodox church, in so far as they do not interfere with the State, that is, assume a political bearing. Now, it is very agreeable to learn that all these peaceful measures meet the views of the Emperor, who seems to have been guided by his good angel to place himself in the hands of Melikoff, who, in his turn, seems to have had an inspiration from an overruling Providence. This is very different from the monster trials of the last decade and the hanging or exile of the condemned agitators. It is clear that the reign of terrorism and political murder on the part of the government must cease if retaliation on the part of the people is to come to an end, and a continuance of this policy on the part of the government must eventually disarm many of the allies of the Nihilists. The most of the aid or countenance that the revolutionary bands have received from the intelligent circles has been accorded in a spirit of disgust or despair. Even the working-classes have been slow to follow the Nihilists properly so called, for these have in reality been marvellously small in numbers in comparison to the agitation which they have produced. The working-classes in Russia have little sympathy with the communism taught by the agitators, but they can comprehend the oppression under which they labor, and afford brawny arms for the plans concocted by active and uneasy brains. This Russian revolution has not its parallel in history. The malcontents are found among the most intelligent, though in many respects the most misguided, of the population. And the impetus that affords them strength is the general uneasiness permeating the nation. It is not possible for Russia to live beside Western civilization and maintain a system of Oriental rule. Railroads and telegraphs cannot enter its territory without bringing in their train an atmosphere that will expand, or explode if not allowed to do so. The whole Nihilistic movement has, therefore, been a strange anomaly because it has had to encounter an equally strange state of affairs. Political propaganda has, therefore, been made in magisterial bureaus and even on the threshold of the palace. It has found patrons even among aristocratic women in influential positions. Mothers have sent their daughters to the famous high school of Communism in Zurich, and men and women have strangely commingled in the wildest enterprises of reform, and every measure of repression adopted by the government has only made the matter worse. The result has been a wild conflict of misunderstanding between the government and the governed that has brought Russia to the brink of civil and social ruin. It may still be too late to effect a cure of the evil without terrible agitation and bloodshed, but it is certainly the part of wisdom to adopt just such a policy as now seems to be that of Melikoff, who may become the saviour of his country.—Christian Weekly. It is well to keep the fearful facts of the waste caused by liquor constantly in mind and before the people who have not yet joined the prohibition ranks. A contemporary states it in this way:— The retail liquor bill of the United States is $750,000,000 the present year. The English Bureau of Statistics declares that for every shilling spent for rum, another shilling is required to pay for the consequences. Add, then, $750,000,000 more to take care of the evil results, and we have the enormous aggregate of $1,500,000,000, nearly enough to liquidate the whole national debt. According to the last census, the entire value of the furniture and apparel of the nation, including jewels, was less than $500,000,000, or $250,000,000 less than the liquor bill of a single year. There is something to show for the money spent for furniture and apparel, but nothing for the money spent for rum except poor-houses, jails, penitentiaries, rags, misery, and death. Just forty years ago, a State Temperance Convention of four hundred delegates in Tennessee, adopted a petition to the Legislature in respect to licensing the sale of liquor, in which were the following pointed questions:— “Is it right to give authority to sell insanity, and deal out sure destruction? If it is right, why should any be forbidden to do it? If not right, why should any be permitted to do it? Why forbid all but ‘men of sober life and conversation’ to do this, if it be right? Why allow such to do it, if it be wrong? It may be too much to expect from human laws that they protect the morals of society from corruption; but is it too much to ask that they will not throw open the doors of temptation?” The following persons are non-producers: Manufacturers of intoxicating liquors, 40,000; retail liquor-dealers, including clerks, 510,000; drunkards, 600,000; paupers, 300,000; criminals, 200,000; insane and idiots, 20,000; police, 30,000. Total, 1,750,000. Dr. Charles A. Story, of Chicago, says: “The building of asylums, the furnishing of medicine and comforts for 4,000 insane people, who die after three years of insanity, and at an average cost of $1,000 each per year, amounts to $12,000,000 a year; and at the same time for 8,000 lunatics who do not die, but are cured after three years’ treatment in the asylum, $24,000,000, making a total of $36,000,000, as the triennial cost of insanity caused by drunkenness.” More than $50,000,000 worth of grain is wasted annually in the United States in the manufacture of intoxicating drinks, sufficient to support all the paupers in the country. There are 65,000 churches, 84,000 ministers, with a church membership of 11,500,000 in the United States. To maintain them it costs less than $48,000,000. There are, in our country, 250,000 places where liquors are sold, requiring the services of 550,000 persons; selling $740,000,000 worth of liquors.—Selected. Heat Wave and Rising Death Rate in New York
—While we have been having it cool and rainy in Michigan, this is how it has been in New York, according to the Christian at Work, of June 3: “How the warm weather has poured in upon us like the sirrocco, the harmattan, or the simoon—or, as we might say, like the breath of a fiery furnace! The effect of all this heat is disastrous. While in May the death rate is usually 64 to 65 daily, on the two days preceding the first hot day, Tuesday, the rate was 64 for Sunday and 56 for Monday. Then come the hot wave, and the figures rose on Tuesday to 81, on Wednesday to 101, and on Thursday 141 deaths were reported. The heat has been almost unprecedented, while the fact that in May in this vicinity only one-tenth390 of an inch of rain fell, as against a rain-fall of four inches in the same time last year, and an average rain-fall of two-and-a-half to three inches, tells a rare story of heat and drought.” A “PSYCHIC” PHENOMENON.
By A. M. S. C.
IN the Watchman of March 25 I was especially interested in your notice of Mr. Cook’s last lecture on Spiritualism, and the experiments he witnessed, which led to the conclusion that “matter may be moved without contact, by the effort of the human will, or by this combined with the will of spirits working with the human or independent of it.” This recalls a phenomenon which came under my own observation many years ago, but which is still distinct in my recollection, and as it seems to me quite as remarkable as any on record, I am tempted to send you a brief account of it. In the winter of ’64 several naval officers with their families were boarding at a hotel in Charlestown, Mass., my husband and myself being of the number. One evening at the tea-table it was casually mentioned that Lieut.-Com. B., a young officer of intelligence and great energy of character, who had but recently returned from a foreign cruise, had, on one or more occasions, by mere force of will, been able to tip and move tables. He was instantly beset to give an exhibition of his power for our benefit. For some time he politely but steadily refused to comply, saying it was several years since he had attempted anything of the kind, and he should probably fail. At last, however, his good nature prevailing, he promised to do what he could, and almost immediately we repaired to the private parlor of Mrs. H. to witness, as we hoped, a strange and interesting performance. The party consisted of Captain and Mrs. H. and two daughters, Mr. and Mrs. B., my husband and myself. I will here state that, to my knowledge, not one of the party had any belief in spiritualism. A table of wood, of rather small size, was placed near the center of the large room, around which we ranged ourselves and on which we placed our hands, joining thumbs and little fingers to conduct the subtle fluid which, controlled by the human will, was to produce such wonderful effects. For some time there was no motion or sensation of electricity. Some of the party being inclined to talk, Mr. B. requested us to observe perfect silence, that he might be better able to concentrate his thoughts. Soon a twinge was felt in the thumb, then at the elbow, passing from one to another, till all were sensibly affected, showing that the electric current was established. I do not now remember whether the table trembled or moved at all until Mr. B. spoke to it, audibly commanding it to move in various directions, which was immediately done; then, saying he had complete control of the table, he asked us all to tip away from it, not allowing our clothes to touch it, and removed himself two yards or more distant, when, keeping his eyes steadily fixed on the table, he talked to it as to an intelligent, well-trained animal, causing it to move backward, forward, and endways, and to rock like a cradle, etc. To crown all, he ordered it to walk across the room, and get up into an arm-chair, continually repeating the command as the table advanced, slowly but steadily, toward the chair, where it paused a few moments as if in doubt or to rest. Mr. B., still retaining his position near the center of the room, continued to urge obedience, when the table, after several futile efforts, actually succeeded in lifting the two legs and resting them on the seat of the chair. And when Mr. B. insisted on its placing the other two feet on the chair, it was somewhat startling as well as interesting to see the struggles of the poor table to accomplish the impossible feat. Mr. B. then ceased his efforts, confessing to a degree of exhaustion, and the party expressed supreme gratification at being permitted to witness so extraordinary an illustration of the power of the human will over senseless (!) matter. In this instance, certainly, the whole thing was unprecedented, with no possibility of collusion, and no belief in the aid of spirits.—A. M. S. C., in Watchman of April 29. THE LONE PILGRIMS.
By Mrs. M. E. Archer
Will you please give me a little space in the REVIEW to express my thanks to Bro. Cottrell for his cheering words to the lone pilgrims? I trust that I can appreciate them, having been, for about ten years, a lone Sabbath-keeper. Nevertheless, in living alone, we learn to depend on the Lord, and look directly to him for everything, and oh, what a precious lesson is this! His love never fails; he knows our every weakness. To him we may go with every trial which we may not tell to one another; and what sweet communion we may enjoy with him from day to day if we will only yield our will to his. I once heard a story of an old bear that had two cubs. One of them she tended with assiduous care, but the other she allowed to care for itself, consequently it learned to climb the trees. One day the dogs were out in the woods, and that cub climbed a tree and was safe; but the little darling cub couldn’t climb, and his mother not being able to climb with him in her arms, they were both destroyed by the dogs. I sometimes think perhaps the poor pilgrims who fight their way through alone, will be about as likely to stand the test of the fiery persecutions which are just before us, as some who are more highly favored. At least, let us not murmur or complain, but let us strive to let our little rush-light shine before the wicked who surround us, and at the Jubilee, when the dear Saviour appears, we shall be among his saints who are preserved forever. WHAT HINDERED.
By M. E. Winslow
“It is of no use, Mrs. W., I have tried again and again, and I cannot become a Christian.” “So you said a year ago, yet you thought there was nothing in the way.” “I don’t think there is now; but I don’t feel any different from what I did then, and I don’t believe I ever shall be a Christian.” “You must have more faith,” said the elder lady to her companion,—an expression we are all apt to use rather vaguely when at a loss what to say to souls seeking salvation. The first speaker was a bright, talented girl somewhat over twenty, who, on a previous visit nearly a year ago, had confided to her elder friend her earnest desire to become a Christian. Of her evident sincerity there could be no doubt, and the visitor was sorely puzzled to understand why her young friend had not yet found peace. The two were standing by the half-open door of the Sunday-school room, where a rehearsal for an “entertainment” was in progress; and the girl, looking in, seemed suddenly to find there a suggestion for further thought. “I believe,” she said hesitatingly, “there is one thing I cannot give up.” “Give it up at once, dear.” “Come to Jesus first then, and he will give you the power.” “I don’t want him to. I believe if I knew I should die and be lost in three weeks from to-night, I would rather be lost than give up my passion.” “And what is this dearly loved thing, worth so much more than your salvation?” “Oh, it isn’t worth more, only I love it more, and I can’t and won’t give it up. It’s that I—I want to be an actress; I know I have the talent; I’ve always hoped the way would open for me to go upon the stage, and I can’t help hoping so still.” “Do you think it would be wrong for you to do so provided the way did open?” “I don’t know that it would be a sin; but I couldn’t do it and be a Christian; the two things don’t go together.” “How did you come by such a taste? I am sure you do not belong to a theater-going family?” “Oh, no! my father and mother are Methodists; they always disapproved of the theater. I’ve been in Sunday-school all my life. They used to make me sing and recite at the entertainments when I was four years old, and I acted the angel and fairy parts in the dialogues; and when I grew older, I always arranged the tableaux, charades, etc. Then I joined a set of sociables got up by our church young people. At first we did ‘Mrs. Jarley’s Wax-works,’ and sung ‘Pinafore,’ for the benefit of the church; and then we became more ambitious, studied, and had private theatricals, and last winter we hired Mason’s Hall and gave a series of Shakespearean performances, which cleared off a large part of the church debt. But that’s only second class work, after all. I want to do the real thing, to go upon the stage as a profession. My father won’t hear of it; but I hope some time the way will be opened that I may realize my heart’s desire.” “And meantime will you not come to Jesus and be saved?” “No; I cannot do it and keep to this hope, and I will not give this up.” And so the visitor turned sadly away, thinking for what miserable messes of pottage men and women are willing to sell their glorious birthright as children of God; thinking also of the seeds which are being sowed in our Sunday-schools, tares among the wheat, and the terrible harvest that may yet spring up from this well-meant but injudicious seed-sowing. She has thought, also, that in connection with some editorials on the “Sunday-school Drama,” recently published in the Sunday-School Times, the publication of this true incident, not yet a month old, might further the object the editor then had in view.—M. E. Winslow, in S. S. Times. AN EDUCATIONAL NECESSITY.
By Chas. C. Ramsey
BY PROF. CHAS. C. RAMSEY. It is necessary to lay a broad and firm foundation, that the structure to be reared may be sustained. A thorough study of the principal branches of knowledge, and the resulting discipline received, will construct such a foundation, and upon it can be erected a substantial superstructure of thought and accumulated facts. Every hour deducted from this liberal preparation in the schools is detrimental to the work of the individual in after-years. Why, then, make haste to leave the training school for the stern duties of active life? It would have been as wise for the gladiator of ancient Rome to rush into the arena of combat, with high expectations of success over his antagonist, when his course of muscular discipline was half finished, as for the immature youth to leave school or college halls forever, when its curriculum is half completed. It is true that youth of genius might succeed without further prolongation of school-life, but it must be recollected that few possess what some are pleased to call genius. Besides, would even such remain longer at their tasks, their success might be still more assured. Every one concedes that the skill and strength acquired at school, through calisthenic exercises, will prove beneficial to him who afterward engages in manual labor, or enters the army to fight in the defense of his country. So, if the intellect be aroused and disciplined by liberal culture, the power thus engendered will be useful if the individual should afterward become a man of business, or, indeed, a follower of any pursuit. Napoleon, an acknowledged genius, received thorough mental discipline through a severe and extended course of study in the military schools of France, and in every way sought to increase his powers and to accumulate stores of knowledge. He was noted for thoroughness and hatred of sham. After an extended preparation he entered the military school at Brienne, where he studied mathematics, classics, and history, remaining five years. It was to him a delight to grapple with the most difficult problems in engineering, nor did he let those of politics remain untouched. In short, he endeavored to attain the effective use of all his faculties, holding that he would reap all the vigor of intellect and learning that he could possibly acquire during the short space of five or six years,391 While it is hoped that none will ever again surrender themselves so completely to ambition as did Napoleon, yet it is greatly to be desired that more young men regard thorough culture as highly necessary to success in life. Many more instances might be cited to show that the pursuit of an extended course of study has been productive of the greatest results in professional, political, and social life. Record European Immigration Arrivals Surge in May
—The immigration from Europe for May exceeded that of April, which was larger than that of any previous month. During that month there were 46,148 arrivals, but in May 55,083 landed at Castle Garden in this city, making the total since January 1, 135,336. These figures are indeed amazing, but the impression is deepened when we realize that they exceed by 10,000 the entire population of Delaware, and about equal the combined population of Oregon and Nevada. When Europe is pouring her surplus upon us, not by ship-loads, but by squadrons, so that new States can be peopled in a few weeks or months, it may well cause the patriot to consider the weighty responsibility devolving on those who would qualify these new-comers to fulfill the privileges and duties of American citizens.—Christian Weekly. UNQUESTIONING
By Clara J. Denton
Dingy and old the room,
Dark with the winter’s gloom;
Like a dusty vail, by fairies flung,
Over the windows the cobwebs hung,
And the dust lay everywhere. Litter covered the floor,
Smoke the low walls o’er,
And over the work-bench, brown and old,
A toiler bent, while the long hours tolled,
And from “sun to sun” wrought on. “What mak’st thou, friend?” I said.
Then raised the gray, old head:
“I cannot tell, for these delicate things
From the inner room the master brings,
And I polish them one by one. “I groove each part with care,
I make each corner square
For the master’s hand.” “But wish you not to know
Their future guise,” I asked, “and where they go?”
“Nay, ’twere folly so,” he said. “But,” I queried again,
“Have you no wish that men
May tell afar of your delicate skill?”
“Nay, I toil but to do my master’s will,”
And he smiled with a radiance rare. Oh, lesson rare for me,
Toiling unceasingly,
Yet crying oft, with impatience sore,
Because my work ne’er cometh to more
Than pieces of what I would! But if my Master shall tenderly take
My humble tasks,
Bidding them at last
Into fair proportions grow,
Because they were wrought for his dear sake,
I’ll be content to have it so.
—Clara J. Denton, in N. Y. Churchman. THE HUMAN HEART.
By F. H. Sisley
[Some years ago the following lines were read and copied; and though the author is forgotten, his words are suggestive of deep thought, and remind us how powerful is the influence of one heart upon another. We copy them for the readers of the REVIEW, hoping that they may serve to quicken us to a realizing sense of the need of living, each day, carefully before God and our fellow-men. F. H. SISLEY.] ALAS! How little do we understand the human heart, although each mortal breast doth feel the throb and own its presence there! How oft we strike its saddest chords with words unkind and harsh! how oft destroy its peace by some unguarded glance, some selfish act, that vanishes like morning mist, never again to be thought of by ourselves, although it comes and goes forever in that other heart! How do we wring the heart with agony, when we forsooth would only jest! How do we crush it by unjust remarks, and ways that speak a lack of trust, and though we know what balm would soonest heal our own, we fail to find the remedy for other hearts. We give the fewest, faintest words of cheer when they are needed most; and we withhold our love when deepest yearned for, prayed for, almost asked! Oh, if heart could only read the heart, what unknown things, what secret sorrows, would be then and there revealed! Mysterious, strange it is, aye, more than strange, that hearts will not unto each other, yield themselves and give the contents up! Yet so it is! they never unbar the bolted doors; and when they light the mystic lamps within their chambers deep, they keep the curtains closely drawn, so that the unvailed light of truth may never gleam from out the windows. Oh, the human heart! None, none but God can penetrate its mask and truly understand its life of lives,—the soul-communings that are whispered there; the anguish and the woe; the hopes in bud, and those all spoiled by blight; the wasted love and untold struggles that are traced upon the sacred tablets of its hidden cells. A BAD FEATURE.
By E. H. Gates
ONE of the worst features of our times is the defective training of children, and the lack of properly restraining them. How hard it is for children who have always had their own way to submit to the requirements of the gospel and the law of God. Why is it that parents do not realize that early training largely determines the future destiny of their children? The Wise Man says, “Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” Prov. 22: 6. Many parents allow their children to grow up headstrong, and then wonder that they become as unmanageable as wild beasts. But this result is the legitimate fruit of such improper training. Very often more care is exercised in raising fine stock than in training those who, should time continue, are to be the future men and women of our country. If children are not restrained when young, they will not be when older. Why do not parents spend more time in teaching the young minds to love truth and virtue, and to stand for the right in spite of the corrupting influences of the wicked world? Why is so much time spent in trimming and flouncing their apparel, which only fosters pride in them, and in preparing them to shine in society? Why is so little time spent in talking with them about Christ, and Heaven, and truth, and virtue? Why is there so much talk about accumulating wealth, thus surely instilling into their young minds the idea that this is all that is worth seeking for? Children learn very early what parents consider of the greatest value in this life. In Ps. 144: 12 the object of parental training is set forth in the following beautiful and forcible figure: “That our sons may be as plants grown up in their youth; that our daughters may be as corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a palace.” By proper training and pruning, a little sapling may develop into a beautiful, thrifty tree; but if neglected, it will grow up crooked and deformed. The expression, “polished after the similitude of a palace,” does not refer to that superficial polish, that empty formality, so common in our day; but to that true politeness which shows careful early training, and which is carried into the kitchen as well as into the drawing-room. Among the heathen in the early days of Greece, children were particularly taught obedience, that they might be good, law-abiding citizens when they should grow older. Let Christian parents learn an important lesson from this. All who do not carry out the Scripture requirements on this point, will in the end suffer loss.