Earlier text: The Christian Light-BearerThe Suevi, the Vandals, and the Burgundians.
By Alonzo Trévier Jones
It will be often necessary, in the course of this history, to use the phrase "the bounds of the Western Empire," or "the limits of the Western Empire;" and we shall here indicate those limits in such a way that every one who reads may understand. Take any good map of Europe; begin at the Frith of the Clyde, in Scotland; and draw a line from a point twelve miles northwest of Glasgow to a point on the Frith of the Forth, twenty-two miles northeast of Edinburg; this is the line of the Wall of Antoninus. Follow down the east coast of Britain to the English Channel; cross the Channel to the mouth of the Rhine; follow up the Rhine to the mouth of the Neckar; and then follow up the Neckar to the place where two rivers flow in from the east, near together. From there go southeastward to Ratisbon, or, in other words, to a point on the Danube about the twelfth degree of east longitude; follow the course of the Danube to the mouth of the Drave; and from there carry the line of the southward flow of the Danube due south to the sea-coast of Tripoli. Then follow the northern border of the Great Desert, westward to the ocean, and, with the exception of Ireland, all the countries between the line thus drawn and the Atlantic Ocean, formed the Western Empire. "About four years after the victorious Toulun had assumed the title of Khan of the Geougen, another barbarian, the haughty Rhodogast, or Radagaisus, marched (A. D. 405) from the northern extremities of Germany almost to the gates of Rome, and left the remains of his army to achieve the destruction of the West. The Vandals, the Suevi, and the Burgundians formed the strength of this mighty host; but the Alani, who had found a hospitable reception in their new seats, added their active cavalry to the heavy infantry of the Germans, and the Gothic adventurers crowded so eagerly to the standard of Radagaisus, that, by some historians, he has been styled the king of the Goths. Twelve thousand warriors, distinguished above the vulgar by their noble birth or their valiant deeds, glittered in the van; and the whole multitude, which was not less than two hundred thousand fighting men, might be increased, by the accession of women, of children, and of slaves, to the amount of four thousand persons. This formidable emigration issued from the same coast of the Baltic which had poured forth the myriads of the Cimbri and the Teutones, to assault Rome and Italy in the vigor of the republic. After the departure of those barbarians, their native country, which was marked by the vestiges of their greatness, long ramparts, and gigantic moles, remained, during some ages, a vast and dreary solitude; till the human species was renewed by the powers of generation, and the vacancy was filled by the influx of new inhabitants."—Chap. 30, par. 14. The Alani, mentioned here, were a part of that nation which dwelt between the Volga and the Don, which, when the Huns swept over their country, A. D. 375, advanced, with "intrepid courage, towards the shores of the Baltic; associated themselves with the northern tribes of Germany; and shared the spoil of the Roman provinces of Gaul and Spain."—Chap. 26, par. 11. "The correspondence of nations was, in that age, so imperfect and precarious that the revolutions of the North might escape the knowledge of the court of Ravenna; till the dark cloud, which was collected along the coast of the Baltic, burst in thunder upon the banks of the upper Danube [A. D. 406]. The emperor of the West [Honorius], if his ministers disturbed his amusements by the news of the impending danger, was satisfied with being the occasion and the spectator of the war. The safety of Rome was intrusted to the counsels, and the sword of Stilicho; but such was the feeble and exhausted state of the empire that it was impossible to restore the fortifications of the Danube, or to prevent, by a vigorous effort, the invasion of the Germans. The hopes of the vigilant minister of Honorius were confined to the defense of Italy. He once more abandoned the provinces, recalled the troops, pressed the new levies which were rigorously exacted and the pusillanimously eluded, employed the most efficacious means to arrest or allure the deserters, and offered the gift of freedom, and of two pieces of gold, to all the slaves who would enlist. By these efforts he painfully collected, from the subjects of a great empire, an army of thirty or forty thousand men, which, in the days of Scipio or Camillus, would have been instantly furnished by the free citizens of the territory of Rome. The thirty legions of Stilicho were re-enforced by a large body of barbarian auxiliaries; the faithful Alani were personally attached to his service; and the troops of Huns and of Goths, who marched under the banners of their native princes, Huldin and Sarus, were animated by interest and resentment to oppose the ambition of Radagaisus. "The king of the confederate Germans passed, without resistance, the Alps, the Po, and the Apennine; leaving on one hand the inaccessible palace of Honorius, securely buried among the marshes of Ravenna; and, on the other, the camp of Stilicho, who had fixed his head-quarters at Ticinum or Pavia, but who seems to have avoided a decisive battle till he had assembled his distant forces. Many cities of Italy were pillaged or destroyed; and the siege of Florence, by Radagaisus, is one of the earliest events in the history of that celebrated republic, whose firmness checked and delayed the unskillful fury of the barbarians. . . . Florence was reduced to the last extremity; and the fainting courage of the citizens was supported only by the authority of St. Ambrose, who communicated, in a dream, the promise of a speedy deliverance. On a sudden they beheld, from their walls, the banners of Stilicho, who advanced, with his united force, to the relief of the faithful city; and who soon marked that fatal spot for the grave of the barbarian host [A. D. 406]. . . . The method of surrounding the enemy with strong lines of circumvallation, which he had twice employed against the Gothic king, was repeated on a larger scale and with more considerable effect. . . . The imprisoned multitude of horses and men was gradually destroyed by famine, rather than by the sword; but the Romans were exposed, during the progress of such an extensive work, to the frequent attacks of an impatient enemy. . . . A seasonable supply of men and provisions had been introduced into the walls of Florence; and the famished host of Radagaisus was in its turn besieged. The proud monarch of so many warlike nations, after the loss of his bravest warriors, was reduced to confide either in the faith of a capitulation, or in the clemency of Stilicho. But the death of the royal captive, who was ignominiously beheaded, disgraced the triumph of Rome and of Christianity; and the short delay of his execution was sufficient to brand the conqueror with the guilt of cool and deliberate cruelty. "The fame of the victory, and more especially of the miracle, has encouraged a vain persuasion that the whole army, or rather nation, of Germans, who migrated from the shores of the Baltic, miserably perished under the walls of Florence. Such indeed was the fate of Radagaisus himself, of his brave and faithful companions, and of more than one-third of the various multitude of Sueves and Vandals, of Alani and Burgundians, who adhered to the standard of their general. . . . After the defeat of Radagaisus, two parts of the German host, which must have exceeded the number of one hundred thousand men, still remained in arms, between the Apennine and the Alps, or between the Alps and the Danube. It is uncertain whether they attempted to revenge the death of their general; but their irregular fury was soon diverted by the prudence and firmness of Stilicho, who opposed their march and facilitated their retreat; who considered the safety of Rome and Italy as the great object of his care, and who sacrificed, with too much indifference, the wealth and tranquillity of the distant provinces. The barbarians acquired, from the junction of some Pannonian deserters, the knowledge of the country, and of the roads; and the invasion of Gaul, which Alaric had designed, was executed [A. D. 406, Dec. 31] by the remains of the great army of Radagaisus. "Yet if they expected to derive any assistance from the tribes of Germany who inhabited the banks of the Rhine, their hopes were disappointed. The Alemanni preserved a state of inactive neutrality; and the Franks distinguished their zeal and courage in the defense of the empire. . . . When the limits of Gaul and Germany were shaken by the northern emigration, the Franks bravely encountered the single force of the Vandals; who, regardless of the lessons of adversity, had again separated their troops from the standard of their barbarian allies. They paid the penalty of their rashness; and twenty thousand Vandals, with their king Godigisclus, were slain in the field of the battle. The whole people must have been extirpated, if the squadrons of the Alani, advancing to their relief, had not trampled down the infantry of the Franks; who, after an honorable resistance, were compelled to relinquish the unequal contest. The victorious confederates pursued their march, and on the last day of the year [406], in a season when the waters of the Rhine were most probably frozen, they entered, without opposition, the defenceless provinces of Gaul. This memorable passage of the Suevi, the Vandals, the Alani, and the Burgundians, who never afterward retreated, may be considered as the fall of the Roman Empire in the countries beyond the Alps; and the barriers, which had so long separated the savage and the civilized nations of the earth, were from that fatal moment leveled with the ground."—Chap. 30, par. 15, 16, 17, 18. Piety and the Outward Life
"Piety is a thing of the soul, and only secondarily of the outward life." DR. LYMAN ABBOTT contributes in the November Century an article on the labor problem, entitled, "Danger Ahead," in which he says: "I wish I had the ear of the working-men's organizations. I would put these figures before them, and then I would address them in some such terms as the following:— “Do you not see the fatal defect of all your organizations? You combine only that you may not work. In one summer's telegraphic strike you spent $400,000 for the right to be idle. Why did you not expend it for the right to be independent? Half a million dollars, plus all the telegraphic talent in the United States, with the sympathies of the nation as a reserve, combined to establish postal telegraphy, might have given you success instead of failure. Strike, not for better wages in servitude, but for independence. Organize not to be idle, but to be busy. Combine not against your employers, but that you may employ yourselves. You battle not for the rights of labor, but for the right not to labor; it is a barren, fruitless right not worth fighting for. Victory is as bad as defeat. For combination put co-operation; for few hours and fair wages put independence; for the right to be idle put power to work. Make yourselves capitalists; combine your capital with your industry, and add to it by your credit, and so become your own masters.”—Sel. The Grace of Silence; or When to Keep Still.
By Rev. T. L. Cuyler
SILENCE is often a most commendable grace. There is a time to speak out, a time to be heard—when muzzled lips would betray cowardice and treason to the truth. At such times "speech is silver;" but there are other occasions when "silence is golden." Let me indicate, in this article, some occasions in which it is wise to keep still before our fellow-men. 1. It is our privilege, in the first place, to hold our tongues when we are assailed by inquisitiveness. Some people have a chronic itch of curiosity; their very eyes are interrogation points. Instead of minding their own business they are "busy-bodies in other men's matters." Now such people ought not to be encouraged by being gratified. There are many things which we have a right to keep to ourselves, and with which "that great brute beast the public," as Cobbett called it, has no concern. My neighbor has no more right to peep into my pocket-book than he has to steal it; he may no more spy through my windows than break open my doors. Every man's house is his castle; and a self-respecting family will keep to themselves all those matters about which the outsiders have no right to intermeddle. There are sore spots in almost every household, that delicacy ought to conceal; a thousand domestic difficulties would never get wind, if people were wise enough to padlock their own tongues in regard to their own family infirmities. Let us be careful not to have too many confidants. "A tale-bearer revealeth secrets; but he that is of a trusty spirit concealeth the matter." As for the crime of divulging what is intrusted to us in sacred confidence, it is a crime compounded of falsehood and treachery. Upon this whole subject, two sound rules ought to be observed; one is never to ask what you have no right to know; the other rule is never to tell what your neighbor has no right to know. Abraham Lincoln was famed for his shrewd, sagacious speeches; he deserves equal credit for his talent of holding his tongue. 2. A second occasion for Christian silence is when you are strongly tempted to disparage others. Remember that the tongue is a keen instrument; it cuts deep, and often draws blood; you may commit murder with it as truly as with a dirk or a pistol. Alas! how many limp along wounded, or else carry the ugly scars which cruel slander has inflicted! Malicious slander we may all detest; but a peculiar temptation to detraction often comes in this wise. We hear somebody greatly extolled; perhaps the praise seems to us extravagant. Envy—that hateful spirit which often wears the mask of justice—whispers to us, "That person is set up entirely too high; he or she ought to be taken down." So we bring out some deformities of character or some evil things that we happen to know about them. Grant that we do know that these things are true; why speak of them and thus fling a nasty fly into a box of fragrant ointment? Why thrust a daub of detraction over a fair portrait of character? In the name of generosity, let us hold our peace. If we cannot sincerely join in the chorus of praise, let not our envious tongues croak their discord; if we cannot help to set another up, let us not help to pull him down. Silence is often as magnanimous as outspoken vindication. If we cannot conscientiously say anything good about other people, is it not generally better to say nothing at all? Throwing mud is always dirty work; if you do not defile the individual you aim at, you are pretty sure to soil your own fingers. If we would all remember how we have smarted ourselves, and suffered ourselves, from the razor-tongue of defamation, we would be more careful to bridle our own tongues. Of the man who keeps no such bridle the apostle James says that "his religion is vain." 3. If silence be golden under these before-mentioned conditions, then does it shine with a peculiar luster when it is maintained under sharp provocation. If our house takes fire, the first impulse is to run for a bucket of water. But if temper takes fire, the impulse, too often, is to throw on more fuel. Now the best water-bucket for aroused temper is absolute silence. Just seal your lips tightly for ten minutes, and you will save yourself many a quarrel, many a heart-burn, many a mortification, and many a disgrace to your religious profession. Speech is often dynamite; it shatters friendships in a moment that are not repaired in a life-time. Silence is cooling. It cools us off; and it is often a more eloquent vindication than words. One of the calmest men I ever knew, told me that he used to be violently passionate, but that he broke his temper by resolutely bridling his tongue until he cooled down. What answer that can be given to irritating words, or even to a just provocation, is as effective as dignified silence? How eloquent are sealed lips! What sublimity there is in silence, when innocence reviled, reviles not again! Marvelously beautiful was the mute patience of our divine Lord when under all the insults and the buffetings of his brutal enemies, he opened not his holy lips. Those lips might have summoned legions of angels to his rescue. That tongue might have shot the lightnings of heaven into the cruel crowd of his murderers. "Answerest thou nothing?" exclaims the enraged high priest. "But Jesus held his peace." Other men have died for what they have said; but, as Dr. Bushnell beautifully remarked, "here was a personage who died for what he would not say, and was silent." Wonderful silence of conscious innocence; truly this was the Son of God! "He was brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." The Common Heritage.
By Mrs. M. L. Boyd
Somehow men will not practically get away from the thought that our Father is a respecter of persons; that some are predestinated to strength, and some to weakness; some to receive great fullness of the Spirit, others to walk in leanness and barrenness all their days; some to be gladsome—rejoicing evermore—others to go through life with a graveyard face. That wonderful prayer of Paul for the Ephesians, contained in the third chapter, is looked upon by many as a grand, towering mountain-peak of glorious experience; but alas! to never be scaled by them in their “peculiar circumstances,” and with their “peculiar disposition.” Now, Paul evidently knew that there would be just such questioning, doubting children of the Lord all down the ages, who would be ever saying, “But not for me,” so he just prayed: “That ye may be able to comprehend with all saints,” etc. That “all saints” means all, everywhere and in every age. Everything that is comprehended in this prayer is the common heritage of all the saints who will make it theirs. It is to be had for the asking; the conditions being entire abandonment. I have always been glad those two little words, “all saints,” were not left out. If the prayer had been, “That ye may be able to comprehend what is the breadth, and length, and height, and depth,” etc., I might have thought that such wonderful fullness, the highest type of Christian experience, was simply meant for that Ephesian church, and possibly a favored few preachers, missionaries, and those called to a special work. But when it was so expressed that their privilege was seen to be only that of “all saints,” then aspiration, and purpose, and faith grew bold, and all my being was on the stretch to obtain; and faith said: “It is now and forever, under all circumstances of adversity or prosperity, my own heritage.” How poor we go; how pauper-like, waiting for things to be given us in the “sweet by-and-by” that ought to be ours in possession, now and here. It is in our Father's will, for our portion of the inheritance this side of the river, that we be “filled with all the fullness of God.” This wondrous filling is the remedy for all the inside wrongs. A vessel filled with one thing has no room for anything else. A human heart filled with all the fullness of God, has not a particle of room in it for envy, ill-will, jealousy, hatred, self-seeking, anger, pride, love of the world, or anything else that is opposed to God. The trouble is, we get a little measure of the Spirit, and find there is not enough to fill and crowd out all else. And yet our Lord has made provision for it; he will not take the blame of spiritual damage in any one. This prayer of the apostle answered in a man, will lift him over on the possibility side of life, where he will believe and prove that he “can do all things through Christ strengthening him.” What a grand cure this would be for that large class of Christians who are always talking about what they “can't do,” and never see anything they can do! The one-talent people would have a time of talent resurrecting, and the messengers of the cross would be a supply equal to the demand.—Mrs. M. L. Boyd, in Word, Work, and World. In this age of fast presses the world is in danger of swamping in an ocean of printed gab. Every county, and even many a village, has its newspaper, which is bound to chronicle every new corn-crib erected. Then come the city papers, the literary journals, the agricultural and domestic organs, the magazines and the flood of books of all sorts, good, bad, and indifferent. If one sets out to be a reading man in the midst of all this avalanche, his first and imperative duty is to decide what he will not read. Time is not long enough to wade through the columns that are thrust upon him, not to mention those of sedater character for which he has to search. It is often said that there is not as much good reading now as in former times. When books and papers were fewer, they were read with more attention and more thought. That is what we mean by good reading—the way of doing it and not the quality of the thing read. Nowadays the most of us skate over a vast surface, and pick up a smattering as we go. But the people who are really well read do not thus waste their time. They read comparatively few books; but those are the best and are thoroughly digested. Young people with gluttonous appetites for books will do well to recollect that if they wish the greatest benefit from what they absorb, they must select carefully and read with thought. Gulping down books gives mental dyspepsia. "Few and good" should be the motto.—Sel. “LIKE wonderful pictures hidden by drapery until a set day, the truest joys of life are wrapped at first in clouds. The earth must feel the plow in her heart before you can get the harvest.” It does not seem to be God's will that we should know how much of the future is wrapped up in the present moment. How can the blacksmith forging a chain-cable tell where the hardest strain is to come? So he puts in his best work. Every weld is as secure as his right arm can make it. He knows well enough that the whole chain is no stouter than its weakest link. So, by God's grace, we are to put the best material into these lives of ours. For we never can tell where the strain will come; we never can tell when the crisis moments of opportunity may be at hand, and when to let one of them slip will be to lose a sparkling jewel in our crown at Christ's appearing.—Sel. The Advent Near.
By Editor
EVERY theory or interpretation of the Scriptures which is put forth to prove that the coming of Christ is not near, or that we cannot tell whether it is near or is not, can be shown to be contradictory of the Bible and inconsistent in itself. If any think we are assuming too much in this statement, we ask them to suspend judgment until they have examined our reasons for making it. We do not ask that they shall wait until they have examined all our arguments on the whole question, but only until they have examined our reasons for saying that the question may be certainly and definitely settled. The most common objection, the one that is most strenuously urged, is, that the world must first be converted; that there must be a millennium of peace and piety, in order that the power of the gospel may be demonstrated in the salvation of the nations of the earth. Now we believe that every idea in this objection is contrary to the word of God. But we shall be met at the very outset with the further objection that, as this is a subject involving interpretations of prophecy, and as different expositors give interpretations widely differing, yet each, perhaps, plausible, it cannot be settled with certainty, or to the satisfaction of all. One will prefer this exposition, another, that, and so on; and amongst them all, who shall say which is right? This objection has some appearance of strength, but it strikes at the reliability of the Scriptures. If there is no just means of settling disputes concerning the truths of the Bible, then there is no means of knowing what it really teaches. Then our faith would necessarily rest on conjectures or uncertainties. We cannot believe that it is our privilege to show and plead what a text may possibly be made to teach, but we must accept what it actually teaches. And if it is to be relied upon, the actual meaning may be determined. Very many people have imbibed false ideas of “Christian liberty.” They seem to think that it allows one to follow his impressions and feelings, instead of rendering obedience to divine precepts; and also to form any opinion of the Scriptures to which those impressions and feelings lead. It is indeed true that no human authority has the right to restrict our liberty in religion or religious belief; but in matters of religion we have not to deal with men, but with God. “He that believeth not God hath made him a liar.” 1 John 5:10. This is surely no small offense. And it is no greater sin to deny the word of God, than to pervert it and turn it from its purpose. We affirm that if mathematicians proceeded in their investigations as theologians do in theirs, there would be no more uniformity in results in mathematics than there is in theology. Uniformity is produced among the former by an agreement at the starting-point. They are agreed upon first principles. Were it not for this, they could never come to agreement in their calculations. Were one to start on the basis that two and two make four, and another insist that two and two make five, there would be no use in their trying to bring the same result. And the further they proceeded in their calculations, the greater would be the difference. Now we firmly believe, and insist that it can be shown, that every Bible doctrine has at its foundation some specific declarations, plain and unmistakable in their import, which, if heeded, will guide to the certain understanding of that doctrine. But if these are disregarded, it is impossible to tell what may be the result of investigations on that doctrine. Each reader will then follow his own fancy, and uniformity in results is impossible. We will now make an application of this principle to the doctrine of the temporal millennium,—the supposed Bible doctrine of the world’s conversion. And we will produce two statements, one from Christ and one from Paul, to which all inquiries on this subject must be made to conform. The first is found in Matt. 7:13, 14, and reads as follows: “Enter ye in at the strait gate; for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat; because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” There are just two ways in which mankind are, and ever have been, walking, and ever will walk, as long as probation continues: the way to destruction and the way to life. Our Saviour has given us definite information in regard to these two ways, not only as to their termination, but also as to the comparative amount of travel on each. We know that, in all past time, his estimate has proved correct; the number that has walked in the way to destruction has been immensely greater than the number who found the way to life. And whosoever advances any theory which would change the relations of these two roads,—which would make the way to life broad, with the multitude walking in it, and the way to destruction narrow, which few shall find,—advances it in direct contradiction of the plain statement of the Saviour. He knew what was in man; he knew the tendencies of the human heart; he knew that few would ever humble themselves before God, and take up the cross and follow him, so as to obtain eternal life. And all his teachings were in harmony with the declaration he here made. Now we insist, and it cannot be denied, that the popular theory of the “temporal millennium,”—of the conversion of all the world,—is based on the direct contradiction of the Saviour’s positive statement. That theory assumes that the time is coming when these words of Christ will not be true; when the way to life will not be narrow, and found by few only; when the way to destruction will not be a broad way, and that many will not walk therein. And this assumption has no direct statement as its basis; it is an assumption, and nothing better. To us it appears as unreasonable and presumptuous as it would for a scholar to assume that, though in time past it had always been true that two and two make four, the time has come or is soon coming in which it will be true no longer—that henceforth two and two will make five. If there is any defect in this reasoning, we shall be pleased to have it shown. It probably will be urged that certain prophecies teach the contrary. But this we deny; it is only somebody’s interpretations of the prophecies which teach contrary to the words of Christ. But any interpretation which runs contrary to the plain declarations of the Saviour on the same subject ought to be abandoned; it is no better than downright infidelity. Now we will take a statement of the apostle Paul. He says: “This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, truce breakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, high-minded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God; having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof; from such turn away.” 2 Tim. 3:1–5. Here is a list of nineteen material errors, some of them the grossest sins, which will mark the lives of those who have a form of godliness. We are told in the same chapter that there will be some who “live godly in Christ Jesus.” But the prevailing tendency will be to profess godliness and deny its power, so that the truly godly will be only exceptions to the general statement. That the godly will be a few only among the multitude of professors, and that they will be unpopular, is proved by the fact that they “shall suffer persecution.” Verse 12. Remember that this scene is laid in the last days. And this confirms the view presented of the statement of the Saviour. Even unto the end it will be true that the way to destruction is broad, and followed by many; and the way to life narrow, and found by few. The theory of the conversion of the world, or of what is termed the “temporal millennium,” can be accepted only by those who lose sight of these plain, positive statements of Christ and his apostle. That theory cannot be harmonized with these statements. Therefore the theory must be wrong. In a conversation which we recently held with an inquirer, the twenty-eighth chapter of Ezekiel was mentioned, and the question was asked by what rule we applied a part of that chapter, verses 12-19, to Satan, when it is clearly stated that the personage referred to there is the king of Tyrus. In this chapter, in verses 1-10, is a message of threatening to "the prince of Tyrus," to whom it is said, "Yet thou art a man, and not God, though thou set thy heart as the heart of God." But the description of the king of Tyrus is such as will not apply to any man that ever lived. Moreover, he is called, "the anointed cherub that covereth." This shows that he was highly exalted by his Creator; for the covering cherubim were closely related to the throne of God. Hence the expressions: "Thou hast been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering." "Thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire. Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee." By comparing Ex. 25:18-22 with Eze. 10:18-20, and also chapter 1:4-28, it is seen that "the cherubim of glory shadowing the mercy-seat" (Heb. 9:5), in the earthly sanctuary, were representations of the "living creatures," or cherubim, closely connected with the throne of God in Heaven. One who originally was exalted to this high honor rebelled against his Maker, and led away certain angels after him. Together they are called "the devil and his angels." Matt. 25:41. See also 2 Peter 2:4, and Jude 6. Turning for a moment to the book of Revelation, we find that the devil is called "the dragon." Rev. 20:2. But in chapter 12 the dragon is brought to view, and to him are ascribed certain deeds which were performed by a Roman ruler. Rome, then, in its pagan form, was not the devil, but it was the devil's chief instrument and agent on the earth at that time. Its deeds of wickedness were the deeds of Satan, who instigated them. He controlled the affairs of the nation; the wicked rulers, some of them very monsters of iniquity, did his will. What they did, he did. In the same manner Satan was truly the head and ruler of Tyre in the days of her earthly splendor and glory. Tyre was his chief agent on the earth at that time, as Rome was some centuries afterward. And the supremacy of Satan is recognized in the prophecy by calling the reigning monarch "the prince of Tyrus." The rulers of Tyre, and Rome,183and of other wicked kingdoms, were not aware that they had a ruler over them who directed affairs as pleased him. But it need not have been so. It was of their own choice that they did service to the arch-enemy, the adversary of all that is good. But when once they were fully committed to his service, he controlled them at his pleasure. And even so it is now. Every man has the freedom of his own will; he may choose the course he will pursue. But if the choice is for evil, if they choose the service of Satan, and fall into his wiles, they become, unconsciously, mediums through whom he works all manner of wickedness. These are led captive by Satan at his will (2 Tim. 2:26), for they have yielded their wills to his. This is an awful thought, and one which may well cause us to fear and tremble. It is not the rulers alone who are in danger of being led captive by Satan to work his will. Satan is "seeking whom he may devour," or ensnare in his deceptions, among all classes, and at all times. The law of God is given as our guide, our preceptor; for sin, by the commandment, becomes exceeding sinful. But sin, viewed through the medium of Satan's enchantments, looks very innocent, and even desirable. David had passed through a sad experience when he exclaimed: "Who can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret faults." These scriptures are written "for our learning." We may draw useful lessons from almost every page in the Old Testament, as well as in the New; and if watchful for instruction, we shall be led to say, with the devout poet,— "Lord, let not all my hopes be vain;
Create my heart entirely new;
Let thy sweet Spirit me sustain—
O, guide me all my journey through." Unleavened Bread at Communion.
QUESTION.—"What kind of bread should be used in the celebration of the Lord's Supper? Some say that unleavened bread alone should be used; others argue for leavened bread; and still others say that it makes no difference. Which is right? G. C. I." ANSWER.—To answer categorically, we should say that only unleavened should be used in the celebration of the Lord's Supper. The reasons for this answer are as follows:— 1. By using the unleavened bread we follow the example of Christ. The Lord's Supper was instituted by Christ in connection with the last passover (Matt. 26:17-30), and it is certain that only unleavened bread was used on that occasion; because during the whole of the passover week, no particle of leaven was allowed in any Jewish dwelling. The law on this point was very strict. See Ex. 12:18-20. This may be said to be only negative testimony; but it is more than can be produced in favor of leavened bread. If in the absence of positive command, we follow the example of Christ, we certainly cannot go wrong. But this is not all that we have. 2. The Lord's Supper is designed to represent the death of Christ. See 1 Cor. 11:26. It is a memorial of that which was foreshadowed by the passover and by all the sacrifices of the old ceremonial law. There is, therefore, the same reason for using unleavened bread in the Lord's Supper that there was for using it in the passover. When Christ broke the bread, he said: "This is my body, which is broken for you." 1 Cor. 11:24. Since the bread of the communion represents Christ's body, it must be without blemish, or else it is not a fit symbol; for Peter says: "Ye know that ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold, from your vain conversation received by tradition from your fathers; but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot." 1 Peter 1:18, 19. Now leaven is fermentation, and fermentation is decomposition and decay. Then certainly leavened bread cannot fitly represent the spotless body of Christ, any more than leavened or fermented wine can properly represent his precious blood. Therefore we hold that it was no accident which led to the use of unleavened bread at the institution of the Lord's Supper. 3. This conclusion is verified by Ex. 23:18, which reads thus: "Thou shalt not offer the blood of my sacrifice with leavened bread." This is a positive commandment, and leaves us no choice in the matter. It cannot be said that this applies only to the sacrifices under the old ceremonial law; for they were no more the blood of the Lord's sacrifices than is the cup of the Lord's Supper. Indeed, the Bible speaks more plainly of this than it does of those; for Christ himself said, when he took the cup: "This is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins." Matt. 26:28. It is plain enough that Ex. 23:18 does not refer to the literal blood of Christ; for no man ever offered, or could offer that with anything; and it is equally plain that it does refer to anything that was or is used to represent Christ's blood, whether before or after his death. In view of the reasons here given, and especially of the explicit commandment in Ex. 23:18, we think we are justified in saying not only that it is right to use unleavened bread at communion, but that it is wrong to use any other. It may seem to some a trifling matter, but nothing can be a trifling matter upon which the Lord has seen fit to give a commandment.