Earlier text: One Hundred and Fifty Thousand Dollar FundThe Recompense of Reward
By Luella B. Priddy
The apostle Peter said to the Lord, “Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?” Matt. 19:27. The Saviour does not rebuke him for his question, but he promises him blessings, not only in this life, but also in the world to come. The blessed hope has been the inspiration of the people of God throughout all time. Our fathers saw it “afar off,” but we are the privileged people who stand at the very dawn-hour of that day that ushers in everlasting joy. Moses chose “rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: for he had respect unto the recompense of the reward.” Heb. 11:25, 26. The city “which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God,” was the prospect that cheered Abraham in his wanderings. The prophet John, exiled and alone, had visions of a new earth and a new Jerusalem. Even Christ “for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Heb. 12:2. It is human nature for us to see in their full magnitude all the difficulties that confront us, until they hide from our view the “far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” It is well for us to recount his mercies frequently. The Scriptures say of David that he “encouraged himself in the Lord his God.” Just a little way from this, that glad time will come when “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” Rev. 21:4. We shall soon exchange our burdens and heartaches for the blessed joys of the better world. There will be a never-ending reunion of friends who have long been separated. There will be no disappointed hopes, and our joy will endure forever. We shall not plant our vineyards and gardens, fearful that they will be nipped by the frost, or be taken from us. The most beautiful parks and pleasure grounds in their midsummer loveliness can not equal the beauty that we shall enjoy eternally. We shall build homes that will be permanent and delight ourselves “in the abundance of peace,” with no foreboding thought that we shall some day have to move to other abodes, or lie down in death and leave it all. The world may spend its time and money in exploring the wonders of this fast-failing earth, viewing its historic scenes and its treasures of art, listening to its beautiful music, and enjoying other things that are accounted desirable in this life. What if Providence deprives us of some of these pleasures? We may one day, on tireless wings, explore a limitless universe of starry worlds, unhampered by the limitations of time. The most of us may never hear the rich voice of a Patti, or the grand melody of the celebrated King Edward’s band, but we may listen to the voice of King David, the sweet singer of Israel, and to Miriam, who lead the Hebrew women in the song of deliverance on the banks of the Red Sea. We may listen to the grand chorus of the ransomed hosts mingling their glad voices with those of the heavenly orchestra, while the skilled fingers of angels sweep the celestial harps. It may not be our lot to mingle with many of those who are called great in this world, but over yonder we may hold converse with Paul and Peter and John. We may “sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven.” We may dwell in that magnificent city with jeweled walls. We may drink of the water of the river of life, and rest in the shade of that tree whose leaves are for “the healing of the nations.” We may behold the throne of God and the Lamb surrounded by seraphim whose souls are so filled with admiration that they cease not to cry, day or night, “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come.” Rev. 4:8. We may see him who is “the chiefest among ten thousand,” the one “altogether lovely,” whose voice is “as the sound of many waters.” Imagination loses itself in contemplating the riches of the reward of the righteous. O eternity! eternity! how the transient splendors of earth vanish into nothingness, like mist in the sunshine, when we catch a glimpse of thy glory! It is so difficult for us to realize that these blessings are to be really ours. It is the common lot of man to meet with trials in this life. “The road may be rough, but it can not be long.” When the trials are great, and everything looks dark, we may put on our heavenly spectacles, and, by faith, look beyond these earthly shadows, and delight ourselves with a view of paradise. Here, the things for which we fondly hope often fail to equal our expectations; but our fancy may picture the things that we know are grand and beautiful, good and true, and still we can say, Heaven is better, infinitely better. “How cheering in the Christian’s hope,
While toiling here below!
It buoys us up while passing through
This wilderness of woe.” FRANCIS M. WILCOX
By Francis M. Wilcox
DEEP darkness and despair
My inmost soul possess;
No light, no fire of love,
Or joy of life, I share.
To failure and defeat I now confess;
My hope hath vanished from above. The smiling sun doth shine
In mockery and hate;
Each twinkling star of sky
Becomes to me and mine
A harbinger of fate,
Of hopeless death now nigh. 'Twas thus in sin's wild way
I lived in doubts and fears;
By God oft wooed and sought,
But singing my mournful lay
In anguish and in tears,
While sin my bondage wrought. But hope, in pity kind,
Came to my darkened cell;
The heavy cloud did part,
Light entered my poor mind,—
The change I can not tell,—
It purified my heart. Now all the world looks bright,
The dark has turned to day;
God's thoughts which seemed so
wrong.
Appear now best and right,
And he doth choose my way,
And he is now my song. Despair to hope doth bow,
Sorrow to joy doth turn,
My Father's plans are best;
This trust sustains me now.
With longing heart I yearn
For his eternal rest. Increase in Suicides
By Daniel H. Kress
DURING the past year the number of suicides in the United States will probably (according to reports from a large number of States) reach twenty per cent more than for the previous year. History affords evidence that increase in suicides is always an indication of, or traceable to, increase in moral degeneracy or mental imbecility. The slightest provocations are sufficient to lead one whose mind is weakened or unbalanced, “to end it all.” There can be no doubt that the same causes which are responsible for the increase in divorces and insanity, are also responsible for the increase in suicides. What are the causes of this mental despondence and derangement? We need not go far to ascertain a few of the most prominent ones. Alcohol, tobacco, drugs, and those popular beverages, tea, coffee, and cocoa, all act upon the brain and nervous system in such a way as to unbalance them. Wherever these are freely used, suicides, it can be shown, are rapidly on the increase. In Holland a Utrecht professor, who is making a wide scientific reputation in his new chair of “Pychiatry,” said that “whereas up to this time women had been the resuscitating and repairing element in races that must otherwise have become physically and morally effete, now that women are beginning to use alcohol and tobacco, these races must in future be deprived of their sanest and soundest factor.” Sir William Gull says: “All things of an alcoholic nature injure nervous tissue pro tempore if not altogether.” And Dr. Lauder Bronton says: “The effect of alcohol upon the nervous system may be described as one of progressive paralysis.” The constant artificial stimulation of the brain by the use of these poisonous narcotic drugs is slowly yet surely undermining will power in the human race, and paving the way for the further increase in divorce, insanity, and suicide. It had been a long vigil, but at last the reaper Death claimed the dear little mother. By her side stood her husband, who had been her companion through long years of adversity as well as prosperity, a son, noble and manly, and two daughters, so tender and sweet. As she stroked the gray hair, one of them whispered:— “She never spoke a cross word to us; no, never. A smile always greeted us when returning from school, or duty, or pleasure; always so kind, so thoughtful, with words of cheer and comfort to brighten our pathway.” No; her life had not been all sunshine. The clouds gathered about her many times, clouds so dark, but still her smile brightened the way. With plenty of money, four promising children, and a Christian home, it would be easy to be pleasant, easy to smile. But this did not always last, for death claimed one of their loved number. Still, with the remaining three, she was happy. But soon financial embarrassment overtook them. The son went away to establish a home of his own, and the two daughters, delicate and frail, found it necessary to seek employment, and this separated the devoted sisters, and took from the humble little home the last ray of light. She was growing old, her plans for a happy home with her children were blighted, and now her last child must be away from her. She was not strong, having been almost an invalid for years. How had she any need of her ever-ready smile? Ah, yes; for the weary, faithful helpers must be cheered. More than an outward show of love did that smile indicate; it was an evidence of life hid with Christ in God. When she came to my care, her earthly journey was well-nigh finished. Weak and worn, she sought relief, not with sadness, but with a hopeful smile and soft, kind words. So when her life slowly ebbed away, her loved ones were comforted with thoughts of her kindness and love; and though taken from them, her works will follow her, and they could but say, as they knelt by her silent form: “Mother, we can not wish you back. You have nobly filled a mother’s place, and your love still comforts us. O we will miss you! but God’s ways are best.” I turned away, but the beautiful, sad scene could but bring searching questions to me. O that every mother were such a mother! A record is being kept of your every act, not only in the books of heaven, but in the minds of your children; and some day these records will be searched, and the searching will bring either happiness or sorrow. Can you afford to have imprinted on the minds of your loved ones cross looks and unkind words? As I looked at the two devoted daughters, I could see but the impression of a sainted mother. Are you making such an impression on the hearts and minds of your children? Shall parents not begin to-day to live before their children lives filled with love? Then will they not be disappointed in the reflection. Do you recommend cellular underwear? If so, why? I recommend porous underwear because it is necessary in order for the skin to breathe to allow a free interchange of gases. There are millions of small openings in the skin through which gases and organic impurities from the body are constantly eliminated. Some of the wastes formed in the body are eliminated chiefly through the kidneys, others through the lungs, still others through the skin. Upon the healthy action of these eliminating organs, the health of the body largely depends. So long as the kidneys, lungs, and skin are in a healthy, active condition, there is little danger of severe illness, providing ordinary care is exercised in eating. Observing physicians have noticed that the chronic invalid always suffers with an inactive skin. One of the essential objects of massage, hot and cold sprays, or the air and sun bath so highly recommended for invalids, is to tone up and improve skin activity. The quantity of moisture, holding in solution tissue wastes, eliminated through the pores of the skin in health by insensible perspiration amounts to13 about two pounds in every twenty-four hours. When exercising, this is considerably increased. It is important that the clothing worn next the skin should be of a nature to allow free evaporation. Retention of this moisture not only debilitates the skin and predisposes to cold, but the organic impurities contained in the moisture under the influence of heat undergo decay, forming deadly gases, which are inhaled or absorbed by the skin, and are responsible for many acute and chronic diseases. To appreciate the nature of these impurities, and what results when they are retained, it is only necessary to notice the disagreeable and putrid odor of the feet when wearing rubber boots which confine the moisture. Should the entire body be covered with rubber, instead of the feet only, the putrid gases formed would be general. Those who are subject to colds may discover that the wearing of closely woven and impervious underwear is one of the principal causes of their frequent colds, by preventing the free evaporation of moisture. But aside from this, by favoring the retention and decomposition of organic tissue wastes, various diseases either of an acute or chronic nature may find their explanation here. Porous clothing should always be worn next the skin, and there is none that I can recommend more highly than cellular underwear.—Australasian Good Health. “O COUSIN WILL, do tell us a story. There’s just time before the school bell rings.” And Harry, Kate, Bob, and little Peace crowded about their older cousin until he declared himself ready to do anything they wished. “Very well,” said Cousin Will, “I will tell you about some dangerous doors I have seen.” “O, that’s good!” exclaimed Bob. “Were they all iron and heavy bars? And, if one passed in, did they shut and keep him there forever?” “No, the doors I mean are pink or scarlet, and when they open, you can see a row of little servants standing all in white, and between them is a little lady dressed in crimson.” “What, that’s splendid!” cried Kate. “I should like to go in myself.” “Ah! it is what comes out of those doors that makes them so dangerous. They need a strong guard on each side, or else there is great trouble.” “Why, what comes out?” said little Peace, with wondering eyes. “When the guards are away,” said Cousin Will, “I have known some things to come out sharper than arrows, and they make terrible wounds. Quite lately I saw two pretty little doors, and one opened, and the little lady began to talk like this: ‘What a stuck-up thing Lucy Waters is! and did you see that horrid dress made out of her sister’s old one?’ ‘O, yes,’ said the other little crimson lady from the other door, ‘and what a turned-up nose she has!’ Then poor Lucy, who was around the corner, ran home and cried all the evening.” “I know what you mean,” cried Kate, coloring. “Were you listening?” “O, you mean our mouths are doors?” exclaimed Harry, “and the crimson lady is Miss Tongue; but who are the guards, and where do they come from?” “You may ask the Great King. This is what you must say, ‘Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips.’ Then he will send Patience to stand on one side and Love on the other, and no unkind word will dare come out.”—Southern Churchman. A boy returned from school one day with a report that his scholarship had fallen below the usual average. And this conversation took place:— “Son,” said his father, “you’ve fallen behind this month, haven’t you?” The father knew, if the son did not. He had observed some dime novels scattered about the house, but had not thought it worth while to say anything until a fitting opportunity should offer itself. A basket of apples stood upon the floor, and he said: “Empty out those apples, and take the basket and bring it to me half full of chips.” Suspecting nothing, the son obeyed. “And now,” he continued, “put those apples back into the basket.” When half the apples were replaced, the boy said: “Father, they roll off. I can’t put any more in.” “Put them in, I tell you.” “But, father, I can’t put them in.” “Put them in?—No, of course you can’t put them in. You said you didn’t know why you fell behind at school, and I will tell you why. Your mind is like that basket; it will not hold more than so much. And here you’ve been the past month filling it up with chip dirt — dime novels.” The boy turned on his heel, whistled, and said: “Whew! I see the point.” Not a dime novel has been seen in the house since that day.—Cut Gems. We clip the following editorial from the Home Herald, of Chicago, and rejoice that so much has been accomplished in outlawing a destructive and terrible business. While we could wish that all had been already accomplished that the writer of the editorial expects to see accomplished, we can hardly set our hopes so high, knowing of a verity that “evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived.” We quote:— “No arraignment of the liquor traffic in recent times has had more telling effect than the recent decision of Judge Artman, of Indiana. To-day the liquor business has letters of marque, and sails as a privateer. Piracy is legalized and chartered. Murderous wrong is made a right. The public has sold a franchise for a trifle of revenue, in the independent use of which, by unprincipled men, and in the results, it must jointly share the responsibility. “At last, we thank God, the conscience of America has begun to shirk the odium of such a partnership. The courts are facing the issue squarely, where hitherto there has been compromise and evasion. The rural communities in every part of the Union are declaring for local option. The Southern States are, by outstanding majorities, favorable to prohibition. Georgia is enlisted as a prohibition State. Alabama is on the point of making a like decision. It is prophesied that in ten years there will be no saloons south of the Mason and Dixon line. The liquor business is not to be improved or reformed, for the effort to make better saloons has never yet been tried successfully. It is the will of the American people, that it should be utterly dispossessed.” The boy stood beside his grandfather, his eager eye intent upon the little yellow violin which the old man’s busy fingers were shaping and finishing. “But you can’t finish it, grandfather,” said the lad, in despair. “You can’t make those little S-places.” “Why can’t I make ’em?” demanded the grandfather, crisply. “Because you haven’t got a saw fine enough for that.” “Then I’ll make a saw,” said the old man. And he did make it. Years afterward that boy, grown to be a well-known violinist, understood that his own mastery, not only of the violin, but of many of the problems of his life, was largely due to the force with which that one sentence took possession of his mind. The world is full of people who “go so far and then give out.” But the great achievements of life, both in material and in spiritual things, are reached by those whose faith fails not at the last crisis, and who go on bravely and “make the saw.”—King’s Own. Lessons in Our Father’s School
By Maltbie D. Babcock
IN our Father’s school are many benches. This life is school time. Whatever the word God writes on the top of your page,—patience, courage, forgiveness, resignation,—copy it over and over until he gives you another word. Never murmur. Do your best to solve your problems. If they are hard, try hard. If you are in the dark, say, “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.” When you feel like complaining, listen. Be still before God. David said, “I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because thou didst it.” That is better than moaning and lamenting; but let us leap from David to Jesus, and say, “The little cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?” “Father, glorify thy name.” So shall we be made perfect through suffering.—Maltbie D. Babcock, D. D. A Victory for the Truth in Italy
By Chas. T. Everson
A FEW months ago Brother Odaglia and wife returned to their native land, after a sojourn in South America, and settled in northern Italy, in a village not far from Turin. They had accepted present truth in South America. A neighbor had spoken to Brother Odaglia about the message, and as a result of this personal work on the part of this Adventist, he had begun to keep the Sabbath, and afterward, when a laborer went to develop the work begun, a goodly number of Italians embraced the truth. Returning to Italy, Brother Odaglia felt anxious to interest his countrymen in this glorious truth. He wrote to me about it, and I sent him some tracts to distribute. A little later, I learned that some were becoming interested in the message, and I wrote to Professor Fant, who was holding a series of meetings at Turin, requesting him to go to see what could be done in Brother Odaglia’s neighborhood. I have just received a letter from Brother Fant, written on his return from Monesterollo, where he had held a short series of meetings. He says that one of the first persons to come to investigate the truth was a gentleman, ninety-six years old, who was still alive to the influence of truth, notwithstanding his advanced age. He was much interested in what he heard; but immediately on his return from the service, the parish priest came to see him, and informed him that if he returned to the meetings, he would be excommunicated, refused burial in consecrated ground, and consequently he would not escape eternal punishment. As soon as the priest knew that Brother Fant had come to preach the gospel, he ran from house to house, scolding his parishioners, and threatening with excommunication—any one and every one who should attend our meetings. The gospel had never been preached in that place before, and a very bitter war was waged against the proclamation of the message. The very same morning that Brother Fant began his work, the priest ordered the church bells rung, and called together the people, and began a tirade against Protestants, exhorting the people to pray to the Madonna, St. Joseph, St. Michel, and all the saints, that they might avert the calamities that would be visited upon them because of the heresy that was being preached among them. Of course the threats availed with many, and especially with the women, who are, as a general rule, the backbone of the church. However, notwithstanding the strong opposition, a goodly number came out, and listened attentively to the preaching. About one hundred heard the message during the meetings. They became so interested on one occasion that Brother Fant had to continue his service for seven hours. Not only from the place where he lives, but also from the surrounding villages, the people came to inquire about the message. Some of the people asked the priest why he did not go to see our brother, and come to an understanding with him. But he answered that he needed the permission of the bishop, in order to meet him. Then he railed upon them for daring to make propositions to him. Still they persisted in asking him some questions about baptism, and he answered them a few words in Latin. When the people demanded the reply in their own language, he went off muttering at them in insulting language that left the people scandalized. But in spite of all these tirades against the truth, the people came to listen to the proclamation of the message. Also, a number of young men came for Bible study, and became much interested. In consequence of the meetings, the priest applied to the public authorities to stop our work, and sent for two preaching monks to come and hold a mission of penitence and reparation, to restore the damage done by our effort. As a result of our work there, eight persons accepted present truth, and are getting ready for baptism. Others would be disposed to follow their example; but in these villages the priest is a terrible enemy; and, as Brother Fant writes, “The priest knows the power of the boycott, and how to use it to the damage of those who do not think as he does.” We are thankful for this victory for the truth, and pray that many of those held under the terrible power of priestcraft may come to know the sweetness of Jesus’ love, through the preaching of the third angel’s message in the land of the papacy. West Coast, Africa
By D. C. Babcock
In Sierra Leone the message is making some progress. Most of those who accepted the Sabbath during the tent-meetings are yet faithful. About June 1 we began meetings in a large hall, in the northeastern part of the city of Freetown; but, owing to heavy rains, the attendance was small. We have closed these meetings until the rainy season is over. Some interest was awakened by the few services held, and Brother Brown is holding Bible readings with the interested ones. Among those who have embraced the truth are several soldiers of the West Indies Regiment and the Royal Garrison Artillery. Some of these obtained a release from Sabbath duties, but some are passing through severe trials. When they applied for release on the Sabbath, more duties were placed upon them, because of this request. One brother, a sergeant, whose time expires in August, has had a very trying time. The commander has done everything he can to hold him, but we hope all will be settled at the expiration of his term. There is a regulation that provides for one year overtime in case of war, when an army is in a land distant from that in which enlistment was made. But as that regulation can not be enforced under the present circumstances, this brother has decided to make a test, if refused a discharge. We are glad to say that there are several young men who can be trained for the work in a short time, as they have a fair literary training. We realize the necessity for a good training-school, to prepare workers for the great field before us. There are earnest calls made for laborers all along the coast, from Lagos to Gambia, a distance of more than fifteen hundred miles. We can not hope for workers to come from other lands, to fill the many calls coming to us. The laborers must be found, to a large extent, in the field. From Liberia, located just to the south of Sierra Leone, comes an urgent request for us to come there and hold meetings. We are yet unprepared to meet this plea. Liberia is settled largely by liberated slaves from the United States. It is quite evident, from many letters received from America, that the vastness of the West Coast is little understood. Gold Coast is as far from Sierra Leone as is New York City from Battle Creek, Mich. The call for help from the Gold Coast during the past year has been so urgent that we thought it advisable to send Brother Kwamina there. He sailed from this port the second week in June, and from recent reports from him, success is attending his efforts. A council meeting was held by our workers here one week before Brother Kwamina left, and it was decided that Mrs. Babcock and I should go to the Gold Coast during the months of August and September. At that season there is generally less rain there than in later months. We expect to leave Sierra Leone for that field in two weeks. Brother L. W. Browne will probably conduct a training-class for workers during our absence. He will also look after the general interests of the work in Freetown. It will be impossible to complete our new church building before leaving for the Gold Coast; first, for lack of means, and second, for lack of time. We now have the building enclosed, and all the outside woodwork painted; but the windows15 and doors are to be put in, and the church is to be seated. We now owe one hundred and thirty dollars, and shall need one hundred and fifty dollars to complete the building. Our brethren are doing all they can to raise the money, but it will take some time yet, at the rate we are getting it. The building is of solid concrete, and will comfortably seat three hundred persons. Among the many visitors last week to see the church building were two Catholic priests. They spoke very highly both of the structure and of its commanding location. It is at the junction of two streets, and can be seen for quite a distance down the street. We are thankful to our Heavenly Father, and to our dear brethren and sisters, who have so liberally given of their means, that we can begin to see fruits for the efforts put forth here. It is not simply an organization of men and women, but they are souls truly converted to God and his work, in this closing message.