WE have just had the largest gathering of Sabbath-keepers ever held by our people in Central Europe. This meeting was held in our hall at Bienne, at the close of a short series of meetings. There were about one hundred and forty Sabbath-keepers present, including our children and youth. I do not think that Switzerland could have been better represented. We also had the pleasure of meeting with the representative men of the cause in Italy, Roumania, Germany, and were favored with the presence and labors of our dear Bro. Butler. Bro. A. A. John was also present from England, and Bro. Brorsen from Denmark.
The preaching, social, and business meetings were among the best I have attended. There was a gradual rise in the interest till the close. Important questions were thoroughly discussed with considerable warmth, while good feelings, deference to others, and a Christian spirit were manifested.
A conference of eight Churches was organized, embracing two churches in Germany, one in Italy and five in Switzerland; and an unorganized company was taken under the watch-care of the Conference. It was recommended to organize a publishing association, and shares of 25 francs (about $5) each were taken to the amount of 12,500 francs, about $2,500. Those who subscribed were mostly poor brethren possessing no real estate, yet paying their tithes and sacrificing nobly in other branches of the work. Without doubt this sum will be considerably increased when the matter is presented before our German brethren. One interesting feature was that our young converts, some of whom had kept but one Sabbath, took their position in the front among the contributors in this noble enterprise.
Among the actions taken at this meeting, was the passing of a resolution by a unanimous standing vote, inviting Sister White to make us a visit as soon as possible, and promising to stand by her in her work.
Bro. Butler's parting words, spoken with tears, were most affecting, and intensified in each a desire to see him again in Europe.
D. T. BOURDEAU.
Bale, May 29.
P. S. With only two or three exceptions, our Swiss brethren who pledged so nobly for the object specified above, had nothing ahead, unless it be what they were sending for safe-keeping to the bank of Heaven. They have to work hard for little pay in dull times to earn their bread and pay their house rent. Some of these were pledged with the design of selling a part of their furniture to pay their vows. Not one of these owns a horse or carriage. Only one is worth $1,000, and one $3,000. The latter was a young convert who has just passed through a mob and had his store considerably marred by stones, because he kept the Sabbath. He feared his goods would be stolen by an infuriated mob, but he acts as though he meant to lay up treasure where thieves cannot break through and steal.
D. T. B.
From Humboldt County, Cal.
By N. C. McClure, Henry Scott
WE pitched our tents and began meetings in this place on the 30th of May, and have continued from night to night, with two meetings on Sunday, until this time. Our attendance has been quite good from the first, considering that we are in a very small village, with a rather sparsely settled country around us. Our audience has numbered from forty to sixty, and a good degree of interest is manifested by a number. The people are very kind and hospitable, inviting us to call, and coming in to see us and talk on religious subjects.
As we are presenting the prophecies, many have expressed themselves as delighted with the light thrown on the word of God. One man said he had listened to preaching for forty years but until now had never heard a satisfactory explanation of the Bible. The Lord has blessed us with freedom in trying to present the word, and we trust the effort will be blessed by the conversion of many souls to the present truth.
This is a beautiful country, with its rich green hills and valleys, and wooded mountains. Bright, clear streams of water flow down on every hand. Unlike other portions of Humboldt County near the coast, this valley is free from fog, and has a much warmer climate. We feel that the Lord must certainly have a people in the Mattole Valley. Pray for us, that we may be able to reach all who want eternal life.
N. C. MCCLURE,
HENRY SCOTT.
Petrolia, June 5, 1884.
A Good Testimony.
By Editor
A BAPTIST minister in Georgia having received from some unknown source one or two copies of the SIGNS, writes to us as follows:—
“Before I saw your paper, I have been looking into the Sabbath question, and have decided that we are keeping the wrong day for the Sabbath. I find that custom has a great deal to do in keeping us away from the truth. I am a Baptist minister, and we claim to take the word of God for the man of our counsel; we claim that we are not tinged with Romanism, but I think it is a mistake. Many years ago the Christian Index offered one thousand dollars to any one that would show Scripture authority for infant baptism; no one claimed the money. If we should offer the same amount for Scripture authority for the change of the Sabbath, I think no one would apply for the money. I want all the information I can get on the subject.”
A Difference.
By R. W. Lowrie
THERE is a distinction between dues and offerings. What is due, is a debt. We cannot be said to give our debts. If we pay our debts, we only do a duty; a due-ty, that which it was our due to do. A debt is something due another, while an offering is something given another. Thus, our offerings cannot begin until we have paid our debts, rendered our dues, done our plain and simple duty. All, then, that a man gives over and above his tenth is an offering, and nothing else is, or can be. If all give of their substance in this way, how fully Christian works and worship would be sustained. Farewell, then, exciting ways (some of them not strictly honest) of raising funds; farewell begging sermons, chancel appeals, subscription lists, pride gifts, and all the host of them. The church would be the almoner of the liberal, the benefactor of the needy, the glad home of those now neglected; the brotherhood of the saints and of humanity would be a realized and glorified fact, and the wheels of religious activity would fairly burn with the glow of their own motion; while, on the broad highway over which they should pass, they would leave a track of heavenly light and glory dazzling to behold.—Rev. R. W. Lowrie.
Mrs. Lee's Way.
By Ellen Bennett
Mrs. Lee's way! How surprised Mrs. Lee would be if she could see those words, for never was there a more unpretending little woman, or one with less idea of having a "way" especially her own than my cousin Ruth Lee. It was last winter that I, Ellen Bennett, went to visit her. We had met but once before; that was on her wedding-day, two years by-gone.
She was a rarely lovely bride, gifted with that undefinable charm which seems peculiarly to belong to some people. At our first meeting I had asked myself, "What is the secret of this loveliness?" but not till my visit did I find the answer that solved my query.
It was after I had been in her home about a month that I chanced one day to take up a volume of Mrs. Browning's poems, and opened at the lines:—
"She was not as pretty as women I know,
And yet all your best, made of sunshine and snow,
Drop to shade, melt to naught in the long-trodden ways,
While she's still remembered on warm and cold days.
"Her air had a meaning, her movements a grace;
You turn from the fairest to gaze on her face;
And when you had once seen her forehead and mouth,
You saw as distinctly her soul and her truth."
As I finished reading the lines, I went straightway to cousin Alexander's study, exclaiming:—
"I have found at last a word-picture that is a duplicate of my heart's picture of your Ruth. I have found the secret of her charm."
I think Alexander was pleased; for he smiled while he read every verse of the brief poem, though all he said was:—
"Yes, it is like Ruth; but you do not here find the full secret of her loveliness."
No! I did not then recognize that the secret was bounded by her much pondering of the Bible command: "Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God."
And yet, Ruth never seemed to talk religion as some do; she just lived it; just lived in the light of Christ's felt presence; so that her every deed and word had a glow which kindled warmth in other hearts, because, being pervaded with a sense of her Saviour's love, she could no more help imparting gladness than flowers can help giving out their fragrance. Now I am not going to detail Ruth's life; I am only going to give you an illustration of what I call "her way"—a way that seems to me full of hints for the great company of women all our broad land over, whose queendom is home—the "place of peace;" and do you remember how Ruskin goes on to say, "Wherever a true wife comes, this home is always round her; the woman is to be within her gates, as the center of order, the palm of distress, and the mirror of beauty?"
You may think my example of Mrs. Lee's influence very insignificant, for it has to do only with her treatment of her servants. I had been with her but a few days when I noticed the peculiar gentleness with which they always addressed her. I noticed, too, that she never forgot, in the giving of even the simplest command, the gracious little prefix, "Please;" never forgot, in return for service rendered, a pleasant, "Thank you;" and somehow Mrs. Lee's "please" and "thanks" always seemed to echo with the kindly note of a heart-smile, if there be such an echo, and I think there is.
I also observed she turned everything to account, teaching lessons of love and faithfulness through every event. And it is wonderful how full of such lessons are the occurrences of what we are wont to call a "most common-place day"—only one must look to find them. I was particularly impressed with this on Palm Sunday. Bridget, Cousin Ruth's waiter-girl, came home, bringing a branch of palm, which she carried straight to her mistress, saying:—
"I knew you would like to see it, ma'am."
I listened in amazement. Could it be that my orthodox cousin, Ruth Lee, would encourage Bridget in setting store by that bit of green? Would she find a lesson to teach from it? Yes, indeed, she did; for, with a smile bright as a sunbeam, she extended her hand, replying, "Thank you, Bridget;" and immediately she began the tender story of the long-ago triumphant entry into Jerusalem's city, telling it in language simple as that one would use in speaking to a little child; and yet her words were like a poem, so glowingly—though she was only talking to Bridget, ignorant Irish Bridget—she described the rejoicing multitude who, out of love for Him, the Christ, scattered their very garments before him, strewed his pathway, too, with branches of the palm and olive, and sweet as a song was my cousin Ruth Lee's voice, as she added:—
"Though we, Bridget, cannot thus show our love to Christ our King, we can yet strew olive and palm branches before him."
What did she mean? Only a moment I was left to wonder, for she continued:—
"I do not mean real bits of palm, like this I hold in my hand, but I mean this should be a reminder to us that every act of kindness, every act of faithful service, every temptation resisted, because we love Christ, and would show our love by striving to follow him, he will notice and accept with pleasure, as he did the palms the Judean people cast before him because they wanted to show him honor. And so all the year through, till next Palm Sunday, let us keep this little green branch as a reminder that the dear Lord Christ, who loves us, will be pleased every time we try to do right because we love him."
Just then the dinner-bell rang, but it was a good place to end the conversation.
Going down-stairs I whispered to Ruth:—
"Where do you find authority for such teachings to your servants?"
In reply she quoted the words of Bonaventura:—
"Then do we go to meet Christ with boughs of olive when we exercise the works of mercy and of charity, and with a branch of palm when we bear away the victory against any temptation; and we strew our garments under the feet of Christ when we lay down our lives for the love of Christ."
Later in the day I overheard Bridget repeating the conversation to Jane, the cook, and saying:—
"It seems, after hearing Mrs. Lee's words, as though my bit of palm was worth twice as much. To think of her giving it such a meaning!"
Giving it a meaning! Oh, how we might help those whose creeds differ from our own by just giving them a meaning for the much they do not understand. And this ever-ready help-giving to all was the something that I call Mrs. Lee's way.
Do you smile at it, or do you find a hint in it? I repeat, there is a hint that might aid many and many a perplexed home-mother over rough places in her home government.—Sel.
The Home Circle.
GRANDMOTHER'S SERMON.
THE supper is over, the hearth is swept,
And in the wood-fire's glow
The children cluster to hear a tale
Of that time so long ago,
When grandma's hair was golden brown,
And the warm blood came and went
O'er the face that could scarce have been sweeter then
Than now in its rich content.
The face is wrinkled and care-worn now,
And the golden hair is gray;
But the light that shone in the young girl's eyes
Never has gone away.
And her needles catch the fire-light,
As in and out they go,
With the clicking music that grandma loves,
Shaping the stocking-toe.
And the waiting children love it too,
For they know the stocking song
Brings many a tale to grandma's mind,
Which they shall hear erelong.
But it brings no story of olden time,
To grandma's heart to-night—
Only a refrain, and quaint and short,
Is sung by the needles bright.
"Life is a stocking," grandma says,
"And yours is just begun;
But I am knitting the toe of mine,
And my work is almost done.
"With merry hearts we begin to knit,
And the ribbing is almost play;
Some are gay-colored and some are white,
And some are ashen gray.
"But most are made of many hues,
With many a stitch set wrong;
And many a row to be sadly ripped
Ere the whole is fair and strong.
"There are long, plain spaces, without a break,
That in life are hard to bear;
And many a weary tear is dropped
As we fashion the heel with care.
"But the saddest, happiest time is that
We count, and yet would shun,
When our Heavenly Father breaks the thread,
And says that our work is done."
The children come to say good-night,
With tears in their bright young eyes,
While in grandma's lap, with the broken thread,
The finished stocking lies. —Sel.
A Lesson in Charity
ONE day Peter Cooper stood watching a portrait class, who, to the number of thirty pupils or more, were drawing likenesses of the same model from different positions. One scholar made the face in profile; another had it turned a little into the shadow; a third saw more of the full face; while others worked still further into or away from the light. He stood observing the scene a few minutes, when he said: "Such a sight as this should be a lesson in charity, when we perceive how the same person may seem so different according to the way he is looked at by various people."—Sel.
Going to the City.
"No, NONE of my boys are in Chicago," said an old farmer from Western Illinois, just returning from the Union Stock Yards, where he had sold three cars of stock of his own raising. "No, sir, my boys are all at home. I've had all of my boys in the city, though, and they know what it is. I showed 'em all around myself. I ain't one of the kind that lets boys go on thinkin' a city is the nicest place in the world, when it is just as easy as nothin' to show 'em different. I had my boys in some of the saloons along on State Street, and on the West Side, to show 'em the poor loafers, some of 'em evidently farmers' boys, come to town to get rich. We all went to the public library, as I wanted the boys to see the poor fellows there finding a good warm place to sleep until ten o'clock, anyhow. We were also in some of them dives along the levee, and I tell you the boys were disgusted with the dirt and vulgarity. My oldest boy went into the wine-room to see the girls, and come out mad, saying they were nothing but paint, powder, and stuffing, and charged him three dollars for a little bottle of wine worth about twenty-five cents.
"I had the boys look in the morning papers to see how many situations there were vacant, and how many more there were wantin' places. When we started for the train next mornin' 'arly, we see a sign out, 'Clerk Wanted,' and thirty or forty fellows standin' around waiting for the doors to open. Oh! I tell you, the boys haven't any love for Chicago, and they are stayin' home and 'tendin' to business. They have seen Chicago with their eyes open, and are satisfied to stay at home, behave themselves, and take the old farm when I get through with it. I believe this keepin' of boys in ignorance of what a great city really is, is wrong, so I do."—Sel.
"A Boy's Pound."
By Meade Middleton
MORRIS sat on the roof of the old corn-crib, looking down on a load of wood to be cut and put away in the wood-house. Beyond was the garden, overgrown with weeds, and close to the garden gate was the kitchen door.
From his high seat, Morris could look in at the open door, and see his mother, as she walked with quick step, back and forth, preparing supper for the harvest men.
"Mother must be warm and tired," he thought. He wondered if any other family in the country had as much trouble as his family? His father was ill—there came the doctor round a turn in the road, to see him; his brother Dick had broken his arm; Hannah, the house-maid, was gone—there was no one to help his mother now in the busy harvest-time! If only his sister were home from school! Morris had never before wished so earnestly for a man's strength. "I could chop the wood, and put the garden in order, and get things straight," he said. Then he looked at his feet and hands, and sighed to think that they were only a boy's feet and hands!
But wishes and sighs could do no good! He was tired of his high seat, and tired, too, of the sight of the lazy turkeys strutting up and down across the lawn. He scrambled down in some queer way, putting his hands in and out of the lattice-work, breaking the strips in one or two places, thus helping to make the general appearance of things more forlorn.
Morris ran by the kitchen, and jumped in through the window into the sitting-room. If he could not work he could read, and drive the thought of all those stupid things out of mind. He found just such a story as he liked. It was about the building of a ship. He read every word; how day after day the workmen were busy on the several parts, and how the time came, at last, when the noble thing was to be launched and to begin its work.
He read how the crowd began to gather; how great strength was put forth, and how every one expected to see the ship pushed into the water. It all seemed so real to Morris that he felt himself one of the crowd, ready to shout as loud as any one.
But what was the trouble? Why was so much strength put out in vain? The vessel would not move! People wondered. Just then a boy came pushing through the crowd, crying: "Let me try, captain, I am small, but I can push a pound, at least."
The people laughed at the boy. Some even tried to push him back. But he was a brave little fellow. He ran with all his might against the ship, and lo! off it glided into the water.
Then there went up a shout of triumph. The men who had laughed at the boy a moment before, now praised him, and declared that it was just his pound of help that was needed to launch the ship.
"He was only a boy!" exclaimed Morris. Then, quick as a flash came the thought: "I am only a boy, too, but I might try to do something to help mother push our ship along."
He jumped out of the window, and ran round to the kitchen door. There he stopped a moment, to consider what he meant by "our ship."
"All the farm work, of course," he said. "I might push, with my might, and resolve to get some of this wood split, and piled up, and some of those weeds out of the vegetable garden."
He looked in at the door, just then, and nodded his head, and smiled, and said:—
"As there is no 'big sister' about, mother, would you like me to set up the chairs, and stir the fire, and bring in a few armfuls of wood."
"Thank you, Morris," his mother said, a look of pleased surprise coming into her face.
"I do not feel as tired as I did a little while ago," she said, an hour afterward, when Morris had been going in and out, drawing water, and bringing in wood, humming, meanwhile, two or three of his Sunday-school hymns.
"Why, Morris, dear, you are as helpful as a 'big sister,'" she added.
"O mother, I am glad! I see now how foolish it was to waste time wishing that I were a man. It was just that ship story, though, that opened my eyes."
His mother did not know what he meant by the ship story till the two found time to talk over the matter that very evening.
Don't Be Mean, Boys.
By Burdette
SOMETIMES I wonder what a mean man thinks about when he goes to bed. When he turns out the light and lies down alone he is then compelled to be honest with himself. Not a bright thought, not a generous impulse, not a word of blessing, not a penny dropped into the palm of poverty, nor the balm of a loving word dropped into an aching heart; no sunbeam of encouragement cast upon a struggling life; no strong right hand of fellowship reached out to help some fallen man to his feet—when none of these things come to him as the “God bless you” of the departed day, how he must hate himself—how he must try to roll away from himself and sleep on the other side of the bed—when the only victory he can think of is some mean victory, in which he has wronged a neighbor. No wonder he always sneers when he tries to smile. How pure and good all the rest of the world must look to him, and how careless and dreary must his own path appear. Why, even one isolated act of meanness is enough to scatter cracker crumbs in the bed of the average man, and what must be the feelings of a man whose whole life is given up to mean acts? When there is so much suffering and heart-ache and misery in the world, anyhow, why should any one add a pound of wickedness or sadness to the general burden? Don't be mean, boys. Suffer injustice a thousand times rather than commit it once.—Burdette.
The Power of Memory.
FOR evidence of the power of memory, what better can we desire than the well-known fact of the transmission of the Iliad, with its 15,667 lines, for generations, perhaps for centuries, before it was ever written? Yet even that is a mere trifle compared with the transmission of the Vedas. The Rig-Veda, with its 1,017 hymns, is about four times the length of the Iliad. This is only a part of the ancient Vedic literature, and the whole was composed and fixed and handed down by memory only, as Max Muller says, by “memory kept under the strictest discipline.”
There is still a class of priests in India who have to know by heart the whole of the Rig-Veda. And there is this curious corroboration of the fidelity with which this memorizing has been carried on and handed down, that they have kept on transmitting, in the ancient literal form, laws prohibiting practices that have, nevertheless, become established. Suttee is now found to be condemned by the Vedas themselves. This was first pointed out by their European students, but has since been admitted by the native Sanskrit scholars. Nothing could show more clearly the faithfulness of the traditional memory and transmission. It has, too, this further bearing on the date of the so-called Mosaic legislation. It shows that the fact of customs existing in a country for ages unchallenged does not prove that laws condemning such customs must necessarily be of later origin.
But there is more that is instructive in the transmission of this Vedic literature. There has been writing in India for 2,500 years now, yet the custodians of the Vedic traditions have never trusted to it. They trust for the perfect perpetuation and transmission of the sacred books, to disciplined memory. They have manuscripts; they have even a printed text, “but” says Max Muller, “they do not learn their sacred lore from them. They learn it, as their ancestors learned it thousands of years ago, from the lips of a teacher, so that the Vedic succession should never be broken. For eight years in their youth they are entirely occupied in learning this. They learn a few lines every day, repeat them for hours, so that the whole house resounds with the noise, and they thus strengthen their memory to that degree that, when their apprenticeship is finished, you can open them like a book, and find any passage you like, any word, any accent.” And Max Muller shows, from rules given in the Vedas themselves, that this oral teaching of them was carried on, exactly as now, at least as early as 500 before Christ.
THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR.
By Editor
AN ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY PAPER FOR YOUTH AND CHILDREN, DEVOTED TO MORAL, MENTAL, AND RELIGIOUS CULTURE.
THIS paper is not devoted to insipid stories and religious fiction, but is filled with a great variety of that kind of reading which tends to the healthful development of the youthful mind. Its pages are made bright by the choicest illustrative pictures, and its columns are always full of useful information.
As a Sabbath-school and Lesson paper, it is suited to the wants of scholars and teachers, and is calculated to increase the interest of all who read it, in thorough Bible study.
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SPECIAL PREMIUM OFFER—THE SUNSHINE SERIES.
For every new subscription, accompanied with 85 cents, we will give "The Sunshine Series," consisting of a package of ten beautiful pamphlets of 32 pages each. These comprise a choice collection of sketches, stories, poems, etc., adapted to the wants of children, and contain more reading matter than can be found in many dollar books. Remember, the whole series, 320 pages, and the INSTRUCTOR for a year, for 85 cents.
This school is located in the village of South Lancaster, Mass., on the Worcester and Nashua Railroad, about sixteen miles from Worcester and thirty from Boston.
It is conducted upon the most approved method of teaching, the aim of the managers being to combine the practical with the theoretical in such a manner that each student in going to the school shall be prepared for some position of usefulness.
Successful preachers, colporters, teachers, and canvassers have already entered the field from this school and, at the present time, are laboring in at least eight of the Eastern States.
Students are instructed in four useful trades, and preparation are making to connect still other industries with the school.
Those wishing to attend this school or to place their children here, can depend upon their physical, mental, and spiritual interests being well cared for.
A specialty is made of the Bible, Language, and missionary work; the instruction in these branches being adapted to men and women of mature years.
ELD. S. N. HASKELL, President,
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Persons desiring to attend the school will please address,
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HISTORY OF THE WALDENSES.
By James A. Wylie
BY J. A. WYLIE, LL.D.
ILLUSTRATED BY TWENTY FULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS.
THIS work describes the conflicts waged by the Waldenses, and the martyrdoms they endured in defense of their faith and their liberty. Recent events have brought the Waldenses to notice, and thrown a new light upon the grandeur of their struggle and the important issues which have flowed from it. To them are we to trace the Constitutional liberties that Italy now enjoys. In their mountain fastnesses they maintained the faith of the early Christians, and by their untiring missionary labors this faith was diffused to all the nations of Europe, thus preparing the way for the great Reformation.
212 pp. Price, 90 cts.
Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal.
THE MINISTRATION OF ANGELS.
By Dudley Marvin Canright
By ELD. D. M. CANRIGHT.
ALSO giving an exposition of the origin, history, and destiny of Satan. 144 pp. Price, 20 cents.
Address, SIGNS OF THE TIMES, Oakland, Cal.
News and Notes.
By Editor
RELIGIOUS.
—Three Mormon missionaries left Salt Lake for the East Indies on the 11th inst.
—There is a rumor in England that the Salvation Army is about to organize a hallelujah bicycle and tricycle corps.
—The Baptist Sunday-schools are now reported at 15,930, a gain of 801 over last year, with 1,252,524 officers, teachers and scholars, which is a gain of 56,733 for the year.
—Bishop Henry C. Potter proposes that every clergyman whose salary is $3,000 or over, shall contribute an annual percentage to increase the income of clergymen who receive less than $1,000.
—The old fashion of assessing property holders for the expenses of the Congregational Church at Lee, Mass., still prevails. A manufacturing company in that town were compelled to pay $900.
—A correspondent of the Banner of Light, writing from Santa Rosa, Cal., closes a report of the thirty-sixth anniversary of modern spiritualism with "soul-felt thanks to the spirit-world for this beautiful religion."
—"Some idea of the extent to which the Bible circulates," says the Sunday School Times, "is to be seen in the fact that the English Oxford Press alone uses each year, in printing Bibles, enough paper to form a band eight and two-thirds inches wide around the earth."
—It is stated that "Gen. Booth of the English Salvation Army has issued an order that every day at 12:30 sharp the soldiers of the army shall make the sign of the letter S, to signify that they are saved." Who can blame him for wanting some sign by which others as well as themselves may know that they have religion?
—Rev. Father Thomas J. Ducey, pastor of St. Leo's Catholic Church, New York, recently turned up in a new calling—that of covering the escape of the defaulting bank president, Eno, who was a member of Ducey's church. The two went to Canada in disguise, and were arrested in Quebec, on a steamer that was just leaving for Europe.
—The General Synod of the Reformed Presbyterian Church, recently in session at Pittsburg, adopted the report of the Committee on Discipline that condemned liquor traffic licensed by the Government and provided for the excommunication of such members as dealt in spirituous liquors or who rented property to tavern-keepers. The last clause met with strong opposition, but after a heated discussion, was adopted.
—At the Methodist General Conference it was voted to insert the following in the Discipline: "That no divorce shall be recognized as lawful by the church except for adultery, and no minister shall solemnize marriage in any case where there is a divorced wife or husband living; that this rule shall not apply to the innocent party in a divorce for the cause of adultery, or to parties divorced seeking to be re-married."
—The Christian at Work says that "over fifty millions of the fifty-two millions of people in the United States are Christians." Can it be that this furnishes the answer to the question why the churches are so slimly attended in our large cities on Sundays? Is it because the people are so nearly Christianized that they don't need to go to church? When these fifty millions convert the other two millions, then the millennium will be here, won't it?
—The Boston Herald is authority for the statement that Rev. Mr. Gordon, a young clergyman, has been installed as pastor of a leading evangelical church in that city, who, upon his examination, said: "I do not know enough about the world to come to decide whether those who are impenitent at death remain so forever, or ultimately, through the discipline of worship, become partakers of Christ's life." It is safe to surmise that the impenitent in that congregation will not be seriously disturbed by the pastor's sermons.
—Mr. Sankey is again very ill. At a recent revival meeting in London, Mr. Moody announced that Mr. Sankey's complete restoration to health was deemed absolutely improbable, and that his voice, which had so often led thousands of assembled worshipers in the songs of Zion, would probably never be heard again in their services. He stated that Mr. Sankey's present prostration was so complete that he had been compelled to retire from the work, and was about to sail for his home in the United States. Mr. Moody pronounced a touching eulogy upon the services and devotion of the great singer. There are thousands in both hemispheres who will learn of his illness with regret.
—In his recent address at Edinburgh University, Professor Virchow expressed his belief that no relics of any predecessor of man had yet been discovered. He said: "In my judgment no skull hitherto discovered can be regarded as that of a predecessor of man. In the course of the last fifteen years we have had opportunities of examining skulls of all the various races of mankind—even of the most savage tribes—and among them all no group has been observed differing in its essential character from the general human type." There is no man whose attainments in science are superior to those of Professor Virchow, yet we shall probably never cease to hear it stated that science has proved the Bible account of the creation of man to be erroneous.