Earlier text: THE SOULAns. The terms are figurative, and refer to state or condition, not to the body. Eld. W.'s view involves more difficulties than ours. 8. Paul was not certain but that he had been "out of the body." Ans. In the same way that he was "present in spirit" at Corinth while really at Ephesus. 9. Paul would not have said, "To die is gain," unless he had supposed that he was "to be with Christ" at once. Ans. Paul expected his reward only at the coming of Christ, not at death. 10. In Christ's time persons were "possessed" by evil spirits. Ans. Possession by spirits did not consist in the spirit being actually inside a person, but in its having control of him. 11. "A spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have." Ans. The most reliable original reading is phantom, an imaginary existence, which would of course be immaterial. Christ was a spiritual being at the time he spoke the words quoted, and yet had both flesh and bones, showing that a spirit may be material. THE GRAND REUNION.
By H. D. Banks
How often we hear of the reunion of the soldiers and sailors who fought together in the late civil war. Old comrades meet, and talk of the hardships and dangers they have passed through; how, on many a hard-fought field, they stood shoulder to shoulder, while amid the roar of cannon, and the rattle of musketry, many of their brave comrades fell to rise no more. Many of these part, perhaps never to meet again. Then we hear of the reunion of families who have been separated for years. How gladly the father and mother welcome home their dear children; and brothers and sisters greet one another with tears of joy. But alas! these will have to part, and tender chords will be severed. But there is to be another reunion,—that of the soldiers who have fought under King Immanuel; and for them there will be no parting. These soldiers have fallen all along the line, for nearly six thousand years. Righteous Abel was the first one slain. Then came a long line of marches and struggles for the right, till we arrive at the battle of the wilderness. This contest lasted about forty years; and many a soldier under the Good King won for himself laurels that shall never grow dim. Still the war continues. We pass over many sieges, and many heroic deeds wrought by mighty men of old, till we come to the far-famed land of Babylon. Here the courageous Daniel and his worthy associates faced an immense host. Here the conflict waxed hot, till at last the idolatrous king, Nebuchadnezzar, with the vast multitude under his command, surrendered to the God of Heaven. Passing over a period of more than six hundred years, we arrive at Mount Calvary, where King Immanuel, single-handed and alone, met and conquered the powers of darkness. Here the Captain of our salvation, who was made perfect through suffering, yielded up his life, that he might ransom his soldiers from the grave. But the dark prison-house had no power to hold him, and he walked forth a conqueror over death and the grave. We hasten over the victories won by the apostles, including undaunted Paul, whose name will forever shine as the stars of heaven; and soon we find ourselves on the bloody field where, for twelve hundred years, the papacy made war on the saints of God, and prevailed against them. Here the enemy was determined to wipe out every soldier of the cross; and it is said that upward of fifty millions, who counted not their lives dear unto them, won for themselves the glorious crown of martyrdom. They, too, will be gathered at the reunion, with all the good and true. Now, dear fellow-soldiers of the cross, we come to our own time. The final conflict is just before us. As seen in the prophetic Word, the dragon is wroth with the remnant of the seed of the woman, and will make war with those who keep the commandments of God and have the faith of Jesus. The third angel’s message, bearing upon its front the seal of the living God, and bringing to light the coming of our King, must be borne to the world. Precious souls must be warned of coming wrath, and saved in the kingdom of God. The task is an arduous one, but the victory is sure. Let us buckle on the armor a little closer; the battle is almost over, and the Golden City, with its jasper walls and pearly gates, is just before us. In it, the grand reunion will be held. The good of all ages will there meet their loved Commander, ever to enjoy his presence. Oh, how my soul longs to join that happy throng! To tinkling cymbals, sounding brass, is he
Fitly compared who lacketh charity;
And though the gift of prophecy be given
To understand all things in earth and Heaven,
And knowledge, with all faith, mountains to move,
Yet without charity these nothing prove. Though all my goods I give to help the poor,
Who throng my path, and clamor at my door;
And though my body to the flames be given,
If void of love, I pass for naught in Heaven. Long suffereth charity, yet e'er is kind;
Vaunts not itself, to envy's not inclined;
Is not puffed up, and kindness shows to all;
Foregoes her own when others' interests call;
Not soon provoked, and evil thinks of none;
Rejoiceth in the truth, wrong-doing shuns. Endures all things, and well all things doth bear;
And ever hopes, not yielding to despair.
All prophecies shall end, and tongues shall cease,
And knowledge pass, as does the summer breeze;
But charity itself shall e'er endure,
A guest with all the just, holy and pure, Now love, faith, hope; the heavenly, holy three,
Abide with all, but first stands charity. A WARNING.
By A. J. Cudney
WHEN will S. D. Adventists learn to let patent rights alone, and see the folly of investing large sums of money in uncertain speculations? A few months ago two brethren were induced to invest, one $1,700, the other about $500, in a business that proved to be a perfect fraud. They not only lost the money invested, but considerable time in trying to recover it. Another man who commenced to keep the Sabbath about one year ago, but claimed to be too poor to take the REVIEW or purchase any of our books, has since, as might be expected, given up the truth. He was visited by a sleek-tongued individual, who had but little trouble in persuading this “poor” man to invest $1,500 in a patent feed-rack. And we have just heard of another brother, who has a large family to support, and is in close circumstances, who has permitted a patent-right man to swindle him out of $400. All this has taken place in one county, in a little over one year. These sums, taken together, amount to $4,100, being more than equal to the amount paid for the advancement of present truth by the whole State of Nebraska in twice that length of time. Brethren, think of this. It is not surprising to see men of the world, in their mad pursuit after riches, run great risks at times; but to see those who profess to believe that Jesus is soon coming, squander in this manner the means that God has lent them, is astonishing indeed, especially when we consider that souls are perishing all around us for lack of the knowledge which this money, properly used, might have enabled them to gain. Fertilizing Showers and Clouded Skies
—We cannot have fertilizing showers upon the earth, without a clouded heaven above. It is thus with our trials. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH THE WORLD?
Is it growing old, or getting the chills, or drying up for kindling in the final conflagration? That something is going wrong, is not a new or unusual thing; but matters are growing worse. This world, this earth of ours, is either groaning under the burden of the creature's sin, or it is suffering from his folly, or getting ready for better or worse. Conjecture is useless, but something is the matter. Look at the record of famine, pestilence, earthquakes, drouth, and deluge, besides revolutions and wars without number. There was a terrible famine in China. Perhaps it is not entirely over yet. People eat the bodies of the dead, eat their children and a number equaling the entire population of the United States is said to have perished. That famine might have been averted, if a stupid superstition had not prevented the building of railroads in China. Then we hear the same calamitous cry from India. A long drouth, a fearful famine, followed by pestilence. Next in Russia, parts of Turkey, then in Germany (Silesia), Ireland, and also in Brazil, all within a year or two. In the latter country, which ought to interest us very much, the famine has been long continued. For three years, it is stated, has drouth stricken the earth with barrenness. In the province of Ceara alone, we are told, has it swept away 200,000 of its inhabitants, out of a total of 900,000. Three hundred thousand more followed, as victims of pestilence. Whole districts have become depopulated, fleeing from famine to be overtaken by death in fatigue or pestilence. The government is doing all it can to afford relief, by furnishing employment to the starving thousands; but its resources are limited. The question recurs, What's the matter with the world? There seems to be an increasing disposition on its part to refuse life and sustenance to the human family. Is there any important physical change in progress to which these catastrophes can be charged? or is the sun getting the chills? Does diminished heat produce diminished evaporation and rain, and are drouths, famine and pestilence the first symptoms of the approaching dissolution of this world of ours? Who can tell? We cannot.—Evangelical Messenger. The following paragraph from the S. S. Times contains a useful hint for all Christians, and one that missionary workers ought especially to heed. Perhaps the persons mentioned by the Times may not be the only ones who fail to give the precedence to the Spirit of God. Jesus says to every one of his disciples, “Follow me.” But many a professed disciple of Jesus reverses this order, and practically says to Jesus, “Follow me,”—looking upon Jesus as a servant rather than as a master. It is a very common thing for Christians to pray that the Lord will add his blessing to their work; as if they went ahead and the Lord followed after. A Christian’s daily prayer should be that he may know what the Lord would have him do. A Christian’s daily work should be the doing of what the Lord sets him at. There is never any doubt about the blessing when that order of service is observed. The more common order of precedence in the Christian’s view of service is well illustrated in a little pamphlet recently published on “the revival in St. Catherine’s,” Canada, under the editorship of Mr. J. H. Durham. The title-page of that work announces it as “a brief history of the great work, from its inception to its close, under the leadership of the Rev. E. P. Hammond, and the pastors of the Methodist, Presbyterian, and Baptist churches, aided by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Now that is a pretty way of showing who count one, two, three in that movement, according to the idea of the editor of that pamphlet. If that were actually the order of things in St. Catherine’s, the character of the revival there is sufficiently indicated by this announcement. In a real revival the Holy Spirit leads, and pastors, evangelists, and other Christians follow. Guthrie's Description of the New Jerusalem
—Guthrie calls the New Jerusalem “a city not built with hands, not hoary with the years of time; a city whose inhabitants no census has numbered; a city through whose streets rushes no tide of business, nor nodding hearse creeping slowly with its burden to the tomb; a city without griefs or graves, without sins or sorrows, without births or burials, without marriages or mournings; a city which glories in having Jesus for its king, angels for its guards, saints for citizens; whose walls are salvation, and whose gates are praise.” We believe that there is a great deal of truth and wisdom in what our excellent contemporary, the Sanitarian, says on the above subject: A man who inherits wealth may begin and worry through threescore and ten years without any definite object. In driving, in foreign travel, in hunting and fishing, in club-houses and society, he may manage to pass away his time; but he will hardly be happy. It seems to be necessary to health that the powers of a man be trained upon some subject and held there day after day, year after year, while vitality lasts. There may come a time in old age when the fund of vitality will have sunk so low that he can follow no consecutive labor without such a draft upon his forces that sleep cannot restore them. Then, and not before, he should stop work. But so long as a man has vitality to spare upon work, it must be used, or it will become a source of grievous, harassing discontent. The man will not know what to do with himself; and when he has reached such a point as that, he is unconsciously digging a grave for himself, and fashioning his own coffin. Life needs a steady channel to run in,—regular habits of work and sleep. It needs a steady, stimulating aim, a trend toward something. An aimless life can never be happy, or, for a long period, healthy. Said a rich lady to a gentleman still laboring beyond his needs, “Don’t stop; keep at it.” The words that were in her heart were, “If my husband had not stopped, he would be alive to-day.” And what she thought, was doubtless true. A greater shock can hardly befall a man who has been active, than that which he experiences when, having relinquished his pursuits, he finds unused time and vitality hanging upon his idle hands and mind. The current of his life is thus thrown into eddies, or settled into a sluggish pool; and he begins to die.—Scientific American. This evening, while walking home from the office, we saw a little curly-headed boy, about nine years old, standing in an alley-way, between two old carts, crying bitterly. No one was near him. He was sobbing as though his heart was tortured with grief. Men and women passed by, only turning their heads to see. Said an elegantly dressed lady ahead of us to her gentleman companion, when he proposed to stop and see what ailed the little fellow,—“No, you sha’n’t. It’s only some dirty little brat not worth minding.” The two passed on. The woman, a snob; the man, not even a dog; for the dogs do not desert the poor. “What is the matter, little fellow?” “Please—please—please, sir, I don’t want to tell!” “Ashamed to? It can’t be that a little fellow with such a good face as yours has done something you are ashamed of. Tell me what the trouble is. All little boys, and big boys, and men, too, get into trouble and have to be helped out.” “It’s my father, sir. He scolds me all the time. He does not love me, and always speaks cross to me. The boy who lives next door is never scolded by his father, and he’s no bigger than I am, and no better than I try to be.” “What does your mother say?” “She is good to me, but father scolds her, too. He don’t love any of us, and I’m ashamed to live. Indeed I am sir.” The world is only too full of such children and such fathers. Men who mar the beautiful! Suppose we should go into the house of a neighbor as he was moving in new furniture to fill up and make beautiful his place of residence. To help him put things in place would be manly and right. But would it be right to find fault with him—to pick at this, to scratch on that, to mark that piano a little, then to scratch, even with the point of a pin, the chairs, tables, stands, and all the furniture he was trying to make a part and parcel of himself, so to speak? Just think how little time must elapse before that man would dislike us, then hate us. Marring, constantly marring; spoiling and defacing the beautiful; breaking little shrubs, pinching little buds to spoil or kill the flowers behind them; making marks, letters, figures, scratches, and disfigurings on all there was of the beautiful. One man in this way could despoil a hundred homes; could live to much evil; could do more harm than a hundred men, always at work, could do good; could spoil beautiful furniture faster than an army of men could make or finish. If this scratching and marring were done by the man in his own home, what sense for his wife and children to try to make it beautiful? What is the use of having a home, when it is not attractive? So with children. They are in one sense but bits of furniture, easily kept in order, easily spoiled and made cross, ugly, peevish, ill-natured; very easily taught that brutality and manhood are the same thing, whereas true manhood and real lovable dignity are shown by love, kindness, thoughtful care, and a growing disposition to make every one about you happy, better, more gentle of heart and beautiful in disposition. The world is full of men who mar, and drive back, and trample under foot all that is budding to the beautiful in the hearts of wives and children. The heart is a garden. Plant it with kind words and gently spoken requests, and see how choicest flowers and most delicious fruit of careful love will reward the considerate husbandman. Austerity is not manhood. Gruff, harsh, hastily spoken words chill hearts, and drive back into cold, dark corners the tendrils of affection, which, if helped to grow, go down with a man to his grave, bearing him gently in their embrace, to live and bloom with him over yonder in the garden of renewed life. . . . There is love without loss of dignity. There is obedience to be had without gruffness. There is allegiance, true, loving and lasting, to be had without commanding like a tyrant. It is not true life to scratch, and mar, and bruise, in the mistaken idea that children must be hardened to be fitted for contact with the world. . . . Gently spoken requests are better than hard, harsh commands. They draw out feelings of love, affection, kindness, and consideration, which beautify life from the cradle to the grave. The work of the parent is one of responsibility. He should not seek to curb, to hold back, to keep down, to make timid, so much as to draw out, encourage, help on, guide aright, and thus assist the young soul to a smoother life. The little boy we saw to-night in tears is lonely; his heart is hungry. His life is cold, cheerless, because the stern, gruff father wants it known that he is master of his own household, and must be obeyed. So this child goes on in life without sympathy from one who should show it the most. He is learning that he has no home; that the cold world is warmer and more kind than the harsh, scolding father who should teach him full love and confidence. He should never be made to blush for the words and manners of the father who doubtless wants to do right and to train up his child in the way it should go, but who, perhaps, never lovingly taught, knows not the best way. Men are often kind and polite to those they fear, when they should be kind and considerate to all, especially to those who can, by their words, be made sad or happy from birth to the final Saturday night.—Selected. You have trouble—your feelings are injured, your husband is unkind, your wife frets, your home is not pleasant, your friends do not treat you fairly, and things in general do not move pleasantly. Well, what of it? Keep it to yourself. A smouldering fire can be found and extinguished; but when the coals are scattered, who can pick them up? Bury your sorrow. The place for sad and disgusting things is under the ground. A cut finger is not benefited by pulling off the plaster, and exposing it to somebody’s eyes. Tie it up, and let it alone. It will get well sooner than you can cure it. “Charity covereth a multitude of sins.” Things thus covered are often healed without279 a scar; but once published and confided to meddling friends, there is no end to the trouble they can cause. Keep it to yourself. Troubles are transient; and when a sorrow is healed and past, what a comfort it is to say, “No one ever knew it until the trouble was all over.” The Old Methodist's Testimony.
I praise the Lord, my Christian friends, that I am with you still, Though standin' like an old log house upon a west-side hill; The music has gone out, you know; the timbers have decayed; But sunshine on 'em's just as warm as when they first was laid. Almost a hundred years have passed sin' I was born, and then 'Twas only fifteen further on, and I was born again. I've seen the forest melt away; nice houses have been reared; The world has quite outstripped the church, I'm very much afeard. They used to tell a Methodist as far as eye could scan— No gewgaws on a woman then, no dickey on a man— But now our congregations are so much by fashion led, They look just like a rainbow wrecked upon a posy bed. The circuit riders of them days were not so fine and grand; They took degrees a haulin' logs and clearin' up the land: But when one of 'em rose to preach, I tell you we could smell The fragrant flowers of Heaven and the stifling smoke of hell. We had an “amen corner,” too, beside the pulpit stairs, And while he raised his sermon-bents, we lifted with our prayers; We threw in many a loud “Thank God!” and weren't obliged to go, To give the Lord the glory, to a class-room down below. The grand old quart'ly meetin's were to all the brethren dear, Just like four green oases in the desert of the year; The people flocked from miles around; my wife would take a score, And after supper they would pray, and sleep upon the floor. I know the world's a-movin' on, as Galileo said, For now I rent a cushioned pew to hear an essay read; But when through stained-glass windows the sun throws blue and gold, I cannot help a-thinkin' how the glory shone of old. They call me an “old fossil,” and a “relic of the past,” A “fogy” and a “croaker,” too; but this went always last; I tread a tremblin' isthmus where two seas of glory roll, And soon the past and future bliss will swallow up the soul. And when I reach fair Canaan, the Lord will doubtless see That mansions in the city will not do for such as me; So he will let me go among the old-fashioned saints I think, And praise him 'neath the tree of life upon the river's brink. —Nashville Christian Advocate. SOCIABILITY
By H. E. Sawyer
How much good we might do in this world, were we sociable, friendly, and obliging in our manners as we pass friends in the street, at church, or anywhere else we chance to meet them. These little acts of sociability cost nothing, but are often worth more than gold or silver. How much unhappiness would be avoided by adopting this plan of scattering sunshine wherever we are, at home as well as abroad. “Hawthorne, in his diary, makes record of a day wherein he resolved to speak to no human soul. He went to the village, got his mail at the post-office, returned, and triumphantly records the fact that he spoke to no man. Is it any wonder that, with all his genius, Hawthorne was a melancholy and essentially an unhappy man? How much wiser and better the opposite course. Think of how much happiness you might convey to others by kindly notice and a cheerful conversation. Think how much sunshine such sociability lets back into your own soul. Who does not feel more cheerful and contented for receiving a polite bow, a genial “good morning,” a hearty shake of the hand? Who does not make himself the happier by these little expressions of fellow-feeling and good-will? Silence and a stiff, unbending reserve are especially selfish and essentially vulgar. Coolness is one of the great follies of the day. The generous and polite man has a pleasant recognition and cheerful word for all he meets. He scatters sunbeams wherever he goes. He paves the path of others with smiles. He makes society seem genial and the world delightful to those who else would find them cold, selfish and forlorn. And what he gives is but a tithe of what he receives. Be sociable, then, wherever you go, and wrap your lightest words in tones that are sweet and a spirit that is genial.” It is unamiable. A fretting man or woman is one of the most unlovely objects in the world. A wasp is a comfortable housemate in comparison; for it only stings when disturbed. But an habitual fretter buzzes, if he does not sting, and that, too, without provocation. “It is better to dwell in the corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman and in a wide house.” It is useless. It sets no broken bones, stops no leaks, gathers no spilt milk, cements no smashed pitchers, cures no spoiled hay, and changes no east wind. Children or servants cease to respect the authority or obey the commands of a complaining, worrisome, exacting parent or master. They know that “barking dogs don’t bite,” and fretters don’t strike. So they go on in their own way, when one calm word of rebuke or command, from one habitually amiable and quiet, settles the question. We were once at a panoramic exhibition, when more than a hundred rude boys made such incessant noise as to disturb the whole company. A gentleman present tried frequently to hush them, in vain. Another gentleman uttered the monosyllable “boys!” in a tone of expostulation and authority; and the work was done. We have seen a maxim worthy to be inserted in letters of gold on every dwelling: “Never fret about things you can help, and never about things you can’t help.” That covers the whole ground. It is worth remembering.—Selected. THE BIBLE AS AN EDUCATOR.
THE following is an extract from an address before the Evangelical Alliance on the Essential Conditions of the Christian School in the Modern State, by Director von Lerber, translated for the Christian Statesman by the Rev. Sylvester F. Scovel. The extract here given is a part of the address which is quoted from a school book of 1865; but it so clearly sets forth the value of the Bible in training the mind and developing the character, aside from the spiritual advantages to be derived from the study of its pages, that we are sure it will be read with interest and profit. The Bible, thanks to its astonishing many-sidedness, develops all the powers of the human soul. The Bible educates the intellect, because through the knowledge of the will of God, the judgment of men concerning all life questions is quickened, corrected, and often new created. Prof. Mounard once said, in his public lecture at Berne: “No book in the world, in so little space, contains so remarkable a number of the seed-principles of culture and civilization as the Bible.” This is true. Let any one show me another book which includes such a manifold variety of histories, life-pictures, portraits, biographical and ethnographical sketches, such a panorama of Heaven and earth, in so diversified a style and tone. Our best reading books are poor and one-sided, compared with it. Yes, truly; these are the waters in which a child may wade and an elephant may swim. What a selection of the most heart-winning stories for the tenderest years! What profound problems for the deepest thinkers! No one has yet been able to think out the Bible. It is beyond us, but we are never beyond it. Our best writings for children have the disadvantage of leaving nothing for the child’s understanding to do, having thrown out of his way the smallest stone. But the Bible furnishes more substantial food. Over its difficulties thought is strengthened, and by its strong speech ease of expression is acquired. Schiller and Goethe, Milton and Racine, have gone to school to the Bible. All the keys to the history of the world lie in the Bible. It is the great land-register of the race. The solution of all the great social and political questions—we surely believe it—is in the word of God. More yet. The Bible is the best hand-book of higher politics; for in it the true causes of war and national revolutions are revealed. In the Bible lies the key to one’s own heart. A believing child who has learned out of the Scriptures the knowledge of his own sinful heart, and the way of salvation, has more true psychology than Hegel, because the child is nearer to the real nature of things than the philosopher was. Who knows himself thoroughly, knows already the half of all other men. One’s self, however, one can learn to know only in the glass of God’s word. Therefore I say, The Bible is an incomparable means for the cultivation of the understanding, and may in this respect prove a perfect substitute for many other studies. A sickly young man found himself in an institution of our country. The physician permitted him only one hour of instruction daily, and the father chose the Bible hour. At the close of the year, this father, a clergyman of high position, expressed his astonishment at the great progress which his son had made, not simply in religious knowledge, but in the formation of character and in ripeness of judgment even about the things of this life. The Bible develops character. It has nothing sweetish about it. It is everywhere large and strong. Its earnestness makes an impression, and educates. Of heroic characters and mighty deeds done by living faith in a living God there is certainly no lack. No wonder that men like Luther and Francke, scholars like Kepler and Newton, heroes like Gustavus Adolphus, General Havelock, Washington, and Lincoln, have grown to greatness when fed on the milk of the word of God. The Bible makes character because it constructs a conscience. Only conviction can make a man independent. The Bible does more. It cultivates the heart unto life eternal. It places the child, the young man, the young woman, always and ever in the presence of God as Creator, and before his holy law. Then the boy grows deeper and daily deeper, knowing that “folly is bound up in his heart,” and that he must give account of his doing and leaving undone in this bodily life, whether it be good or bad. It teaches him unceasingly to practice self-denial and self-control, to drive out the “old man,” to crucify the lusts, and to please God. And when the time comes in which he must from the depths sigh with Schiller, “No; I will no longer wage this battle, this battle with giants for the sake of duty. Here is the crown; let it be lost forever. Take it back, and let me sin;” then there meets him again in the Bible the Man of Golgotha, the Son of God with pierced hands, with head sore wounded and bleeding, the most earnest friend of youth, who also, for the most sinful and the bitterest spirit, has words of comfort and forgiveness, and who knows how to help up again the bruised reed. I NEVER look at my old steel composing rule, that I do not congratulate myself that while my strength lasts, I am not at the mercy of the world. If my pen is not wanted, I can go back to the type case and be sure to find work; for I learned the printer’s trade thoroughly—newspaper work, job-work, book-work, and press-work. I am glad I have so good a trade. It is a rock upon which the possessor can stand firmly. There is health and vigor for both body and mind in an honest trade. It is the strongest and surest part of a self-made man. Go from the academy to the printing-office or the artisan’s bench, or if you please, to the farm—for to be sure, good farming is a trade, and a grand one at that. Lay thus a sure foundation, and after that, branch off into whatever profession you please. You have heard, perhaps, of the clerk who had faithfully served Stephen Girard from boyhood to manhood. On the twenty-first anniversary of his birthday he went to his master and told him his time was up, and he certainly expected important promotion in the merchant’s service. But Stephen Girard said to him,— “Very well. Now go and learn a trade.” “Good barrels and butts must be in demand while you live. Go and learn the cooper’s trade, and when you have made a perfect barrel, bring it to me.” The young man went away and learned the trade, and in time brought his old master a splendid barrel of his own make. Girard examined it, and gave the maker two thousand dollars for it, and then said to him,— “Now, sir, I want you in my counting-room; but henceforth you will not be dependent upon the whim of Stephen Girard. Let what will come, you have a good trade always in reserve.” The young man saw the wisdom, and understood. Years ago, when the middle-aged men of to-day were boys, Horace Greeley wrote: “It is a great source of consolation to us, that when the public shall be tired of us as an editor, we can make a satisfactory livelihood at setting type or farming; so that while our strength lasts, ten thousand blockheads, taking offense at some article they do not understand, could not drive us into the poorhouse.”—Selected. German Officials Resist Puttkamer's New Spelling System
—The new system of spelling devised by Herr von Puttkamer, German Minister of Public Worship, is by no means popular. Prince Bismarck has forbidden its use among the officers of his department; the Postmaster-General has inveighed against it; and neither the War nor the Marine Minister would sanction the “new-fangled method.” The Blessing of Honest Labor and Rest
—Every true man is a worker. The idler is a drone for whom no one has any genuine respect. Only to the worker does God give the blessing of rest and peace. The sleep of labor is sound and sweet, but the idle man tosses through weary nights on his restless pillow, and rises unrefreshed at morning. Nature's Hymn and Christian Praise
—Did you ever read Coleridge’s sublime hymn written in the valley of Chamounix, on the side of the Alps, where he represents all nature as lifting up a ceaseless anthem peal to God? If creation, even fallen as it is, praises God, why should we Christians be a discord? Genius Gains Strength Through Toil and Poverty
—Genius loves toil, impediments, and poverty; for from these it gains its strength, throws off the shadows, and lifts its head to immortality. NEW YORK S. S. CONVENTION.
By M. H. Brown
OUR State meeting at Rome commencing May 8 will be a general gathering, and will therefore afford a favorable opportunity for an interesting and profitable Sabbath-school convention. Important subjects which have a practical bearing upon the success of the Sabbath-school work have been assigned to different ones, and we want the hearty co-operation of all our workers in carrying out the following programme:— 1. To secure as large an attendance as possible at this important meeting. 2. To see that the lessons for May 8, as found in the Instructor and Lesson Sheet, are thoroughly learned by all who attend. 3. To think, and plan, and work to make this convention a success, that a new impetus may be given to the Sabbath-school cause in our State. Points of special interest will be discussed as time permits, and we are anxious that each worker should be prepared to present some valuable thoughts on this important branch of the cause. M. H. BROWN, Pres. N. Y. S. S. A. THE FIRE-WORSHIPERS.
By G. H. Bell
THERE is probably no little misunderstanding in relation to the so-called fire-worshipers. Many suppose that they really regard fire as their god; but this is a mistake, respecting some of them at least. There is a colony of them in Bombay, India. They are called Parsees, and are descendants of the ancient Persians, who were taught by their great apostle Zoroaster. This noted teacher is supposed to have flourished during the reign of Darius Hystaspes. He claimed to be a reformer, and a restorer of the ancient religion of the Persians, which had been to a great degree supplanted by the worship of images. In his youth he lived for twenty years in retirement among the Elboorz Mountains. His followers say that during this time he was taken up to Heaven, where he was instructed in the things of God. Zoroaster taught that there was one eternal God, but that there were two principles, or angels, in the universe, one of good and the other of evil. The emblem of the good, Ormuzd, was light; that of the bad, Ahriman, was darkness. Between these opposite principles there was, and would be, a contest to the end of the world, but the power of good would ultimately prevail. At the day of Judgment the followers of both would be judged, and separated forever,—the one rewarded and the other punished. “Ormuzd was always worshiped in presence of a fire, as the cause of light, and especially before the sun, as the most perfect fire and the most perfect light in the universe. Darkness was held in detestation, as the element of the evil principle, whose name, it is said, was written backward and upside down, thus, Ahriman. Many things in the doctrines of Zoroaster have evidently been derived from the Jewish Scriptures,—such as the unity of God, the doctrine of an evil spirit, the doctrine of the last Judgment and the resurrection, and the use of fire or light (as in the Shechinah) as the emblem of Deity. “The doctrines of Zoroaster were set forth in the Zendavesta, the sacred book of the Persians. Everywhere, when their influence prevailed, fire-temples were erected, and image-temples leveled to the ground.”—Dr. Blaikie, in Bible History. Darius Hystaspes was himself a follower of Zoroaster, and after the death of this great apostle of magianism, took his place as high-priest. Under the influence of this powerful monarch the doctrines of Zoroaster were very widely disseminated; and although probably somewhat corrupted, are still believed by many of the Persians.