Is THAT service offered to God for which there is no precept or instruction in his Word? We read that by the Word of God we are thoroughly furnished unto all good works. 2 Tim. 3:17. But this course of worship virtually says to the Lord, “We do this to supply a great oversight in you. You ought to have commanded it, but as you did not, and as we think it is for your glory, we take it upon ourselves to correct your fault in this thing and supply your lack.” It really places the wisdom of God beneath that of those who thus offer service, and charges him with folly.
Is the great Creator of the heaven and the earth honored by such worship? No. Will he accept of it? Never. His frown will be upon those who by such pretended worship insult him to his face. Has God said anything in his Word about such a course? He has. “If there be found among you, within any of thy gates which the Lord thy God giveth thee, man or woman, that hath wrought wickedness in the sight of the Lord thy God in transgressing his covenant, and hath gone and served other gods, and worshiped them, either the sun, or moon, or any of the host of heaven, which I have not commanded, and it be told thee, and thou hast heard of it, and inquired diligently, and, behold, it be true, and the thing certain that such abomination is wrought in Israel, then shalt thou bring forth that man or that woman which have committed that wicked thing, and shalt stone them with stones till they die.” Deut. 17:2–5.
God has brought before us our whole duty in what he has commanded, Eccl. 12:13, and any worship offered to him which he has not commanded is a wicked thing and an abomination in his sight; and how greatly is the case aggravated and the sin increased when it is in direct violation of plain precept. Can such reasonably hope to ever share the blessing promised to those that do his commandments? Rev. 22:14.
Much that is offered to the Lord in our day is but will-worship, for the very reason that he has not commanded it. We will bring an illustration: A vast majority of the professed worshipers of the Lord are observing the first day of the week as the Sabbath; and as we endeavor to find in the Word of God the reasons for such practice, and feel for the pillars of their faith, after a long and fruitless search, we stop and in astonishment ask, “Who hath required this at your hand? Where in his Word has he thus commanded you to do; and that too in violation of one of his ten words which says the seventh day is the Sabbath? As the Word of God thoroughly furnishes unto all good works, if this be a good work, then an abundance of testimony can be found in the Bible to sustain it. But we ask for only the one text, and still we ask in vain. Were it to be found in that Word, how quickly would those to whom we so earnestly appeal tell us where; but their utter silence is a confession that it is not there.
“Have ye not seen a vain vision, and have ye not spoken a lying divination, whereas ye say, The Lord saith it; albeit I have not spoken?” Ezek. 13:7. Was there ever a more manifest case of will-worship than that of Sunday-keeping? Due allowance is made for those who have thus done, honestly supposing they were obeying a command of God. But it is not so. They have been doing it ignorantly, in direct opposition to his express command.
“And the times of this ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth all men every where to repent.” Acts 17:30. When light is once come, the responsibility in all such cases is very materially changed. Said Christ: “If I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin; but now they have no cloak for their sin.” John 15:22.
God has fully set before us his will in his law, and requires us to obey him. It clearly makes known to us what we as his servants are to do. And when we, with this great rule of acceptable service right before us, offer to him as worship that which he has not commanded, and also in disobedience to what he has commanded, can it not be truthfully and Scripturally said, that it is a “wicked thing” and an “abomination?”
E. R. JONES.
The Churches.
(Condensed from Review and Herald.)
New York.
PARMA.—Eld. E. W. Whitney says that “the interest here is constantly rising, and the attendance increasing, notwithstanding we have cold and stormy weather. Last evening we had the largest audience we have had yet, so that extra seats had to be furnished for a large number. We held our first Sabbath meeting last Sabbath. There were thirty-two present, aside from old Sabbath-keepers. Several of these have commenced to observe the Sabbath.”
SCOTIA.—Bro. J. E. Morin says that his meetings are well attended, and that some sixteen or eighteen persons will probably soon be ready for organization in church relationship.
GENOA, CAYUGA CO.—Of the church at this place Eld. D. M. Canright, who held meetings with them for several days, commencing March 15, says: “There are about twenty Sabbath-keepers here besides the children. I was exceedingly pleased to find them all in harmony and no trial among them.” Bro. Reynolds remains among them another week.
Indiana.
WATERFORD, ELKHART CO.—At the request of Bro. L. Caldwell who had awakened quite an interest in our views by distributing tracts, Eld. S. H. Lane came and, at the time of writing, had preached eight discourses in the M. E. church, with increasing interest. He says: “Great interest is shown in our work and faith. Tracts sell rapidly, and requests for home visits are more numerous than we can comply with. This is a rich country, with the finest schools in the State. The county papers open their columns freely to notices of our work and faith.”
Kansas.
BLACK HAWK.—Eld. J. N. Ayers reports that six more have taken hold of the truth since his last report, making thirty-one in all who have signed the covenant here. A Sabbath-school has been organized and a temporary church organization has been made for the purpose of holding meetings.
SALEM.—A church of seven members was organized here by Eld. Ayers, and several more will unite soon. A company of twenty-five are keeping the Sabbath, ten of whom lately signed the covenant, and the others are still investigating.
Tennessee.
COOPERTOWN.—Eld. S. Osborn closed his meetings here March 11, having given thirty-eight lectures. He says, “The interest was good from the first. Six are keeping the Sabbath. Several now express their intention to do the same, but want a little time to consider. Two-thirds of the community acknowledge that we have the truth. Bro. Soule will follow up the interest, as we shall go to Kentucky.”
Stop Worrying About Tomorrow
To ENJOY to-day, stop worrying about to-morrow. Next week will be just as capable of taking care of itself as this one, as it will have seven days' more experience.
The Cross Family.
“Dear me! I think we are rightly named; for we are certainly the crossest family on record!” exclaimed Margaret Cross, as she threw herself on a stool and leaned her head on the window-sill. “There’s mother grumbling at Tom because he whistles in the house, and father just snapped at me because I asked a favor of him. And it’s just so all the time; sharp, harsh answers and cutting sarcasm are the most of our conversation with each other.”
“Why don’t you set the example by acting the Miss Amiable yourself, then?” retorted her sister Clara, who stood before the mirror arranging her hair.
“I should have a pleasant time of it in the way of snubs and sneers if I did,” replied Margaret. “But, really, Clara, it has troubled me very much of late; in fact, ever since I visited aunt Alice and saw such a contrast. They were all so polite to one another, and so careful of one another’s feelings, that it was a comfort to be with them.”
“I hope you took a few lessons,” remarked Clara, sneeringly, “and can instruct in the art.”
“I should have a large field to labor in; but I very much fear most of it would prove to be stony soil,” replied Margaret. The conversation here ended, Clara soon left the room, and Margaret was alone with her thoughts.
“It is the truth,” she said bitterly to herself. “It’s the truth. We are so wrapped up in our mantles of selfishness that natural love between us is being frozen to death. Even father and mother seem to have lost all love for each other—if they ever had any, and I suppose they had once—and as for us girls and Tom, why we would as soon think of flying as of waiting upon one another; and I verily believe if one of us kissed another they would think that one insane. I am so tired of this endless snapping and snarling. I mean to try to do something to make our family a more united one; and if they laugh at me they may. I’ll begin this very moment. Mary has one of her hard headaches. I will go and sit by her, if I do no more.”
With a firm desire to do, and a resolution to try to bring about a more perfect state of harmony, Margaret arose and went to her sister’s room. She opened the door softly and walked in. Mary was lying with closed eyes, and moaning as if in great pain. She opened her eyes languidly at the sound of Margaret’s footsteps, but closed them immediately.
Margaret softly approached the bed, and, laying her hand on her sister’s head, said: “Poor girl! Does your head ache so? Let me bathe or rub it for you.”
Mary, all unused to sympathy or assistance, replied: “No; nothing would help it. Just let me alone and it will get well itself.”
“But can’t I do something for you?”
“No, I don’t want anything done. I’ve stood it so long, I guess I can stand it a little longer,” replied Mary, fretfully.
If Margaret had expected to have her sympathy appreciated, this repulse might have disheartened her; but she had expected just such a greeting, and had made up her mind how to act. Without noticing her sister’s words, she hastened to the kitchen, procured a basin of water, and returning to her sister’s side, she bound up the aching head, bathed the throbbing temples and moistened the feverish hands. Mary made no resistance, but lay with her eyes closed, while Margaret performed these acts of kindness. Then she closed the blinds and sat down by the bedside, and very soon had the satisfaction of knowing, by the quiet breathing, that Mary was asleep. Then Margaret stole softly out of the room, and a feeling of joy stole into her own heart that had never been there before. This was her first lesson in the book of sympathy, and she found it sweet as the breath of morning.
Perhaps Margaret Cross would not have been at this time of her life experimenting, as it were, in this new field, had the circumstances of her life been other than they were. But the Cross children had been born and bred in the school of self-reliance. Their mother believed that children could be very easily spoiled by too much manifested love. Hence she had disciplined them to a rigid denial of caressings, and drove the wedge of selfishness in their hearts which was to make the family one scene of discord. They easily learned how much sympathy to expect from the fountain head; for if they came with a bruised body, she might bind up the wounds with rags, at the same time taking particular pains to impress upon their minds the fact that their own carelessness was the prime cause of the disaster; but if they came with a bruised heart, sympathy cost more than rags, so was withheld. Thus it was that the Cross children grew up, “wrapped in their mantles of selfishness,” as Margaret had said, until, as far as regards the inner life, they were as far apart as if a continent divided them.
“What are you doing, Margaret? Why don’t you come to your dinner?” said Mrs. Cross, as the family, except Mary and Margaret, were seated at the table. “I’m coming soon, mother; but do not wait.” Presently Margaret entered with a waiter, on which was some nicely browned toast.
“Heigho!” exclaimed her brother Tom. “Queen Margaret feels dainty to-night; so do I,” and reaching over, he took the brown slice. All now expected an outburst. None more than Tom himself. But Margaret only looked at him with a queer expression about the mouth—a half-laugh, and half-serious pucker—and said: “Well, I can make more; take it, Tom, if you wish.” But Tom did not want it. He had taken it for the sole purpose of teasing her, and failed. So he passed it back to her, saying: “I don’t want your bread; I only wanted to see your eyes snap.”
“Was that your game? Then you deserve a box,” and she good-naturedly slapped his ear and started for the stairway.
“Where are you going?” asked her mother, calling sharply after her.
“To Mary’s room. I thought maybe she could eat something if I took it to her,” answered Margaret.
“Is Mary so sick?” inquired Mr. Cross.
“I didn’t know ’t was anything but one of her headaches,” answered Mrs. Cross, anxiously.
“That’s all it is, too,” said Clara. “But Margaret has turned good Samaritan. I looked into the room this afternoon, and there sat Margaret bathing Mary’s head, which was all bandaged up, and fanning her as if she were in the last stages. I offered to do something for her this morning, but she very coolly told me to let her alone, and so I did.”
No more was said until Margaret returned, when Mrs. Cross asked if Mary was better.
“She says she is, but she is very weak. She has suffered intensely,” said Margaret.
“How did she consent to let you administer to her needs?” asked Clara, raising her eyebrows and looking at Margaret. “She sent me off pretty quick when I offered my services.”
“I didn’t offer my services,” answered Margaret.
“She did not ask them, I am sure. She would die first,” said Tom.
“No, she did not ask them, nor did I ask, ‘What wilt thou have me to do?’ There’s always plenty to do if one wants to do it,” said Margaret pleasantly.
“Oh, dear!” said Clara. “That’s your practice, is it? Well, I am sure if one does not accept my services when I offer them I shall not urge the matter.”
“It’s my opinion that precious few have ever had the chance to refuse them,” said Tom, rising from the table and preparing for his visit down town.
“No one asked for your opinion, sir,” retorted Clara.
“How quick she can ruffle up,” said Tom, provokingly.
“O Tom!” said Margaret, anxious to prevent a collision. “Did you know that Ned Rogers had gone South?”
“I merely heard of it; he owes me twenty-five dollars, the rogue,” replied Tom.
“Don’t you think you will get it again?” asked Margaret, showing her interest at once.
“Perhaps.”
“Well, it will hurt him worse than it will you,” said Margaret. “For it only hurts your pocket, and it hurts his reputation.”
“Hmph! My pocket is worth more to me than his reputation,” said Tom, lighting his cigar.
Margaret did not purpose to enter into an argument with her brother, she had only sought to avert the quarrel between him and Clara and had succeeded, so without replying to her brother’s last remark, she hurried off to Mary’s room. She found the invalid sitting up, and kindly inquired after her health.
“I am ever so much better,” said Mary, “I never had my head ache worse, and it never got well so soon before. And I was just thinking, Margaret, that a little nursing does one good sometimes.”
“If it has helped you as much as it has me, we will know better how to do another time,” said Margaret, picking up the things about the room in an embarrassed way; for such confidences and confessions were entirely new between the sisters. That evening as Mr. and Mrs. Cross sat alone in the sitting-room, Mr. Cross inquired after Mary’s health.
“She came down-stairs after dinner; I guess she is not any worse than usual,” said Mrs. Cross.
“It was kind of Margaret to nurse her and wait on her,” said Mr. Cross, nervously, for he knew he was treading on dangerous ground. Mrs. Cross never believed in noticing little ailments, it was unwholesome, she said. Children so soon knew how to counterfeit illness. Much to his surprise, she answered: “Yes, Margaret made quite a hero of herself, for all the rest are talking about it. I always thought Margaret was more affectionate than any of the rest. More like your sister Alice. There’s a difference in people,” continued Mrs. Cross. “Some are always a-loving and a-kissing and hanging around somebody, others think as much, but do not care to demonstrate it. Don’t you think there’s a great difference, Mr. Cross?”
“I’ll tell you what I think, mother. I think there is a difference, but I think folks make it themselves. I believe that God puts warm feelings into every heart, but influences change or develop them. But I think we all stifle these warm impulses too much, and allow ourselves to think all demonstrations of tenderness weakly and ‘soft,’ and so crush them out of our hearts, and freeze up, as it were, until it would take an angel from Heaven to thaw us out.”
Mr. Cross had grown eloquent in his theme. Mrs. Cross only gave a little sigh, and said: “Well, I don’t know, I’m no hand to make a fuss, but I believe I love my children as much as any mother can love her children, but I sometimes think they do not think so.” Poor mother! She had sown and now was reaping.
“I wish Tom would stay at home evenings,” said Margaret, one evening, as the sisters were seated at their work, around the center table. “I wonder why boys always want to run off somewhere evenings.”
“Because they like rough company, I guess,” replied Mary.
“I think they are apt to go where they think they are most appreciated,” said Margaret. “We are always scolding at him when he is in the house.”
“Well, is it any wonder,” said Clara, “when he tangles our worsted, ridicules our dress, and makes himself a nuisance generally. For my part I am always glad to see him take himself off.”
After a long pause, Margaret said: “Mother, may I have that old stove that is out in the shed?”
“What in the world will you do with that?” asked Mrs. Cross, looking in astonishment at her daughter.
“Put it in Tom’s room. Perhaps if we fix up his room with a stove and things to make it comfortable he would stay in it more.”
“Well, you may try if you wish, but I’m afraid you’ll have your trouble for your pains.”
The next day Margaret went to work. She was not discouraged by the sneers of Clara, nor by the frowns of her mother, who said she could see no use of tearing up the house at that time. She tore down the ragged old paper curtains which adorned the windows, and substituted neat muslin ones in their place, mended the carpet neatly, put up the old stove and polished it, until it shone again, cleared the table of its rubbish, of cigar stumps, paper collars, newspapers and shoe brushes, brought a box and gathered up the boots, old and new, and put them into it, found a hanging place for the old clothes which lay scattered on chairs and trunks, and for a last finishing stroke brought up an old rocker which had lost an arm and a round, covered it with an old delaine skirt, padded the back, and placed it beside the stove in which she had arranged a fire, and then took a view of her work. “I think Tom will like this,” she said to herself. “At any rate I hope he will.”
“Come up-stairs, Tom,” said she, after dinner, “I have something to show you.”
“Bring it down, I’m in a hurry,” answered the ungracious Tom.
Margaret laughed. “I can’t bring it down. You will have to go where it is,” she said, taking his arm and leading the way to his own room.119The fire was burning and shedding a soft light over the narrow passage which led to the room. Tom looked amazed, as Margaret, stopping before the door, said, with mock gravity: “Allow me to introduce your proprietor, Thomas Cross, Esq. We hope you will be mutually pleased with each other.”
“This is nice, whose work is this?” inquired the bewildered Thomas, looking around as in a dream.
“Are you pleased with it?”
“Rather.”
“Enough to spend your evenings in it?”
“Well, yes; if you’ll agree to have a fire for me,” said Tom, lazily eyeing the neat room.
“I’ll do it!” exclaimed Margaret, clapping her hands gleefully. “And keep you company too, if you will allow me.”
It was a mutual agreement, and it proved a happy one to both brother and sister. Together they read their favorite books and discussed their merits. They gave and received confidence and learned all those sweet influences which spring from an intercourse of warm, loving hearts. Nor were these seasons confined to Tom’s room. He often sought the family circle, and by his good nature broke away the barriers of reserve and selfishness which had closed around them all. So out of Margaret’s resolve and its performance sprang a growth of tenderness that grew and blossomed until every heart in that family was firmly united in the bonds of sympathy and love.
The Lesson of the Water-Wheel.
Listen to the water-mill;
Through the live-long day—
How the clinking of its wheel
Wears the hours away.
Languidly the autumn wind
Stirs the greenwood leaves,
From the field the reapers sing,
Binding up their sheaves;
And a proverb haunts my mind,
As a spell is cast,
“The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past.”
Autumn winds revive no more
Leaves that are once shed,
And the sickle cannot reap
Corn once gathered;
And the ruffled stream flows on
Tranquil, deep and still,
Never gliding back again
To the water-mill.
Truly speaks the proverb old,
With a meaning vast,
“The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past.”
Take the lesson to thyself,
Loving heart, and true,
Golden years are fleeting by—
Youth is passing, too;
Learn to make the most of life,
Love, while love shall last;
“The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past.”
Work, while the daylight shines,
Man of strength and will;
Never does the streamlet glide
Useless by the mill—
Wait not till to-morrow's sun
Beams upon the way,
All that thou canst call thy own
Lies in thy to-day;
Power, and intellect, and health,
May not always last:
“The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past.”
Oh! the wasted hours of life,
That have drifted by—
Oh! the good that might have been,
Lost without a sigh.
Love, that we might once have saved
By a single word,
Thoughts conceived, but never penned,
Perishing unheard;
Take the proverb to thyself,
Take, and hold it fast,
“The mill cannot grind
With the water that is past.”
Scriptural Distinctions of Wines.
Last week an article appeared in this department, entitled, “Wine and the Bible,” which was taken from a health tract by the same name. As this is a subject which can hardly fail to interest all, we continue to extract as follows:—
In the English version of the Scriptures, the distinctions made in the original are often obscured or wholly lost. This is especially true in the present instance. In the Hebrew, the language in which the Old Testament was written, different kinds of wine are indicated by different words, which are all rendered in the English translation by the one word wine. The principal words thus employed are yayin, shekar, and tirosh.
Yayin, according to Biblical critics, refers to the juice of the grape in any form. It might be sweet or sour, fermented or unfermented.
Shekar, or shechcar, was the term applied to any sweet juice derived from any other source besides the grape. It is sometimes translated honey. It usually refers to the juice of the palm tree or of its fruit, the date; and, like yayin, it included the fermented as well as the unfermented condition of the juice.
Tirosh was applied to the ripe fruit of the vine, and to the fresh juice of the grape before fermentation had begun. It is often translated “new wine.”
In brief, then, yayin means fermented or unfermented wine or juice of grapes; shekar means fermented or unfermented wine or juice of the palm tree, of dates or other sweet fruit. Tirosh means the sweet unfermented juice of the grape, or new wine.
The Hebrews used the term yayin for wine made from grapes, in any of its stages, just as we apply the term cider to the fresh juice of the apple, or to the same juice after it has fermented or become “hard” by age. The Greek, oinos, corresponds exactly with the Hebrew yayin.
The foregoing is certainly sufficient to show beyond all chance for reasonable doubt that there are two kinds of wine recognized in the Bible, one of which was sweet, unfermented, and unintoxicating, and the other fermented and intoxicating. The same term is often used for both kinds. If, then, we find the Bible in some instances speaking of wine in terms of commendation, and in others condemning it in the most forcible manner, would it not be most reasonable to suppose that, in those cases in which wine is commended, the unfermented kind is referred to? and in those in which it is condemned, that which had undergone fermentation is meant? Any one who has confidence in the inspired character of the Scriptures will have no hesitancy in answering in the affirmative.
We are now prepared to consider some of the texts in which wine is mentioned.
1. TEXTS WHICH ARE SAID TO FAVOR THE USE OF WINE.
“In the holy place shalt thou cause the strong wine to be poured unto the Lord for a drink-offering.” Num. 28:7.
Whatever semblance of argument may be founded upon this text loses all its force upon reference to the original. The term which is here rendered “strong wine” is shekar, which might with much greater propriety be translated “sweet wine,” since that is the literal meaning of the word. It is so rendered by Kitto, who says that the article referred to in this text was a sweet juice derived from the palm tree or any sweet fruit other than the grape. That this position is correct is conclusively proven by the testimony of an eminent Jewish rabbi, who says of the Jews, “In their oblations and libations, both public and private, they employ the fruit of the vine; that is fresh grapes and unfermented grape juice.” “Fermentation is to them always a symbol of corruption.”
According to Plutarch, even the Egyptians used only unfermented wines in sacrifices.
The wine referred to here cannot be the fermented kind, for the original word so rendered is tirosh, which as previously shown, was always applied to grapes themselves or to the fresh juice. Some learned Bible commentators hold that the word refers exclusively to the whole ripe fruit. Travelers in wine-producing countries assert that the fresh juice of the grape has a peculiarly refreshing effect when taken cool, and that any quantity can be drunk without any of the effects of fermented wine.
“He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man; that he may bring forth food out of the earth; and wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine.” etc. Ps. 104:14, 15.
The wine referred to here must be of the unintoxicating kind, for it is represented as being a natural product, like grass, the herb, and oil. Fermented wine is not a natural result of growth. The Creator never made alcohol in any form. Not a single plant contains it. It is the product of decay and rottenness. As remarked in reference to the preceding text, new wine is a most refreshing and cheering beverage.
“Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish.” Prov. 31:6.
Even this text is sometimes used as an apology for the use of liquor, though at the most it could be made to excuse the use of strong drink only in cases of threatened death. An understanding of the real meaning of the text clears up all difficulty attaching to it.
The term, “strong drink,” had no reference to distilled liquors, as in present usage. The art of distillation was unknown to the ancients, not being discovered until the ninth century of the present era. Strong drink, then, did not mean a liquor strong in alcohol, like brandy or rum. It referred to a liquor, sometimes called “mixed wine,” which was a compound of wine with wormwood, myrrh, nux vomica, and narcotic drugs, which rendered it very intoxicating. It was customary, among ancient nations, to administer this strong or intoxicating liquor to criminals who were about to be executed, in order to stupefy them and thus mitigate their pain. In obedience to the common custom, a draught of this powerful opiate was offered to the Saviour as he hung upon the cross. It was to this well-known custom that the wise man had reference when he said, “Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish,” just as the surgeon would say, Give chloroform to a patient about to undergo a surgical operation.
“The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold a man gluttonous, and a wine-bibber,” etc. Matt. 11:19.
It will not be denied that Christ drank wine; but there is not the slightest evidence that he ever drank a single drop of fermented wine. Sweet wines which had been preserved by some one of the methods previously described, were by many persons drunk to excess, just as food may be taken in excessive quantity. Such persons were called wine-bibbers, though they could not be called drunkards. But there is no evidence that Christ belonged to this class. The charge was made by wicked men, his enemies, who also accused him of gluttony, and on another occasion said, “He hath a devil.” Was he a glutton? If not—and he certainly was not—how can it be claimed that he was a wine-bibber? The same authority which would prove him to be a wine-bibber, would also make him a glutton and one possessed of a devil.
[The remaining texts which are said to favor the use of wine will be considered next week.]
SECULAR NEWS.
—Paris has 51 daily papers.
—It is said that an extra session of Congress is probable—to convene the first of June.
—Currency has, for several days, been selling at 96½. It is worth nearly two per cent more than silver.
—Dr. Dio Lewis has taken up his residence in Oakland. He is having his usual success as a lecturer, in California.
—John D. Lee had sixty-four children and eighteen wives, only three of whom remained faithful to him to the last.
—Maine has got a new liquor law which fines any person who sells any other person intoxicating liquor, except cider, $1,000.
—Before the war, nine-tenths of all the cigars consumed in the United States were imported, but now the raw material is imported.
—The bill admitting Utah into the Union is now in the hands of the House Territorial Committee. The scheme of admission will bring the Mormon question into prominence.
—Wednesday evening, March 28, being the commencement of Passover week, was celebrated by all orthodox Jews with the accustomed devotion and old established ceremonies.
—Ex-Mayor Oakey Hall, of New York, has been missed for some time, and it is now reported that he went to Liverpool in disguise. The revelations in the Tweed case are supposed to have induced his flight.
—Dr. Hugh Glenn, of Colusa, Cal., in 1875, raised over 50,000 acres of wheat, bringing 1,600,000 bushels. In 1876 he raised nearly 40,000 acres. One “ranch” in Sonoma County had, in 1876, about 1,700 acres of potatoes.
—The “protocol,” which it was fondly hoped would bring peace to Europe, has at last been signed, but the papers report active war-like demonstrations both in Turkey and Russia. All hope beyond a temporary peace is delusive.
—The San Francisco Chronicle could not find room for a brief notice of the dedication of a church in Oakland, but gives half a column to the marriage of a sailor to a Chinese prostitute. Thus the wants of the reading public are served.
—Rumors that Gov. Axtell, of Arizona, was using his office in the interest of the Mormons have been afloat for some time. And now Brigham Young has disclosed the fact that while Axtell was Governor of Utah he baptized him into the church “and initiated him into the Endowment House ceremonies.”
—Last year 7,250,000 pounds of tobacco were imported into this State and sold to the retail trade for about $3,000,000. Besides this, California produced 2,000,000 pounds of the article. Thus less than a million of people consumed nine and a quarter millions of pounds of tobacco, costing the consumers not less than four and a half million dollars.
—The famine in India, which involves a population of over thirty millions, has proved to be much severer than was at first feared. A letter from Arcot, Jan. 26, says: “There is not a blade of grass to be seen, and the cattle are fast dying of starvation. The government is acting nobly, however, by sending millions of rupees on relief works every day.”
—Vesuvius has been much more energetic during the present century than ever before. The first known eruption was that which overwhelmed Pompeii, A. D. 79; it was not until the 17th century that the number of eruptions in the hundred years was as many as four; in the 18th century there were twenty-three; and in the present century twenty-six eruptions have already occurred.
—The execution of John D. Lee and his dying confessions have created great consternation among the Mormons, and Salt Lake papers report that many of those high in authority have taken to flight, while disaffection is showing itself among the Mormon population because of the evidence of the criminality of their leaders. The law-abiding population are hoping that more of the assassins and murderers in this hierarchy of sin may be brought to justice.
—Dr. Vaughan, a Roman Catholic bishop in England, preached a sermon lately, in which he asserted that there were “fewer scandals among them [the Romanists] than among other denominations, according to their numbers!” Whereupon one of the journals confronts him with the following figures: In the year 1870 there were committed to jails in Ireland 32,370 prisoners. Let a careful note be now taken of the religion of these prisoners. 3,768 of them were Episcopalians, 915 Presbyterians, 27,475 Roman Catholics, 211 of other denominations.
—We are informed by an Eastern exchange that seven steam street cars have been placed upon the Market street railway, Philadelphia. A small boiler encased in walnut is placed in front of the car, and by an ingenious contrivance the whole power of the engine is concentrated on the brakes. The trial trips were very successful, the cars being stopped in a few seconds, even when going at high speed, and the heavy grades near the Market street bridge not causing as much trouble as has been anticipated. The engines were noisy; very little steam escaped; horses were not frightened. Steam cars are soon to be placed on the street railway between Albany and West Troy.
—Superintendent Henry Kiddle, of the New York Board of Education, calls attention, in his annual report, to the great increase in the attendance at the Catholic parochial school. In 1867 these schools contained only 16,342 pupils, while at the close of 1875, there were 30,732 enrolled. In less than ten years he says the parochial schools show an increase of nearly ninety per cent, while the public schools have in the same time gained only about thirteen per cent. This marked difference is caused by the withdrawal of Catholic children from the public school under the influence of the crusade, we may fairly call it, which the bishops and priests have been waging against all Catholics who send their children to any other than the Romish schools.
—Mr. Alexander Sullivan who assassinated Mr. Francis Hanford, principal of the North Division High School, Chicago, last August on slight provocation, has been given his liberty. The Interior (a Chicago paper), thus comments upon the subject: “If there are any other professors or principals, or other cultured or peaceable gentlemen connected with the schools whom it is desirable to have removed, the way is easy. Let the gentleman desiring his removal arm himself with a good revolver, take his wife along, call the objectionable party to the door of his house, and knock him down. Then let the wife rush into the melee. These are all the preliminary technicalities necessary. The revolver will do the rest, and the heroic reformer of the common schools may hold his levee in due time. We shall have more of this, of course, and when the public become weary of the monotony of the thing perhaps some deluded individual, who trusts too implicitly to precedents, will be hung.”
—“Though there have been no new accessions recently to the European thrones,” says the Boston Journal, “excepting in Turkey, there is likely to be a coronation on the continent elsewhere than at Constantinople. Though the king of Denmark, Christian IX., has been on the throne thirteen years, he has never been crowned, the troubles prevailing between Germany and Denmark in 1863 making the times inauspicious for a costly ceremony. The country has prospered since, and the cost can be better borne now. There is withal a feeling of political discontent, which the king hopes to allay by being formally invested by the rank he has worn so long. He is at the present time fifty-nine years old. A curious fact in regard to the Danish kings is that they must be known by the name of Frederick or that of Christian, and a prince acceding to the throne, no matter what his baptismal name might be, would be obliged to take one of these names. Christian’s predecessor was Frederick VII.”
Cleanliness and Cheerfulness
CLEANLINESS and cheerfulness are very near of kin to each other.
Obituary Notices.
By John Norton Loughborough
DIED, at Seattle, Washington Territory, March 12, of small-pox, Richard Forbes, about 30 years of age. Richard was a worthy member of the S. D. A. church in Woodland, Cal., from which place he removed to Washington Territory some three years since.
He suffered much during his sickness, but retained his senses to the last. His mother writes that the last scripture which he read was the 21st and 22d chapters of Revelation, upon which he dwelt to considerable length. When he comes forth from the grave to enjoy the glories of the country described in these chapters, may we all be ready to meet him and to dwell forever in that land where “there shall be no more death.”