Earlier text: THE TRIAL OF OUR FAITHPRACTICAL THOUGHTS.
By D. T. Bourdeau
The expression, “I die daily,” or “I am every day exposed to death” (French translation by Ostervald), sets forth one great means of advancement in the Christian life. What would tend more to lead Paul to see his weakness and helplessness, draw near to God, deny himself, and advance in virtue, than his sufferings and dangers? He well understood this when he said, “Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.” “Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.” 2 Cor. 4:10, 16. Again, “And lest I should be exalted above measure, . . . there was given to me a thorn in the flesh.” 2 Cor. 12:7. And again, “We glory in tribulations also; knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope.” Rom. 5:3, 4. See also 2 Cor. 1:3–10. If all professing to be Christians had the mind of Paul, there certainly would be less careless lingering on the low grounds of sin, and greater growth in grace. As Paul was not yet perfect (Phil. 3:12), he could not improve upon his sufferings without advancing in holiness. Afflictions and persecutions purify the church, while exemption from these trials brings upon the church spiritual indolence and corruption. We love to contemplate a pure church, but we are not so fond of the means by which that church attained to purity. We are naturally averse to the suffering part of religion. He who has learned to count it all joy when he passes through purifying trials, has learned a precious lesson in the school of Christ. Such a person has the key to success, and evinces that he hates sin, loves holiness, and is dying to selfishness. We are in danger of thinking that the purifying process is over, when it has but just commenced. We must be tried on every point. We must pass through the fires. The crucible must be heated more and more till the dross of sin is all removed, and the glorious image of Christ is seen in us. While passing through severe trials, we must bear in mind that the eye of Jesus is upon us; that his great and tender heart feels for us; that he prays for us, is able to succor us, and will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able to bear. His grace is sufficient, if we accept it and improve upon it. He who has helped us through one trial, is able to help us through another; yea, through all our remaining trials. And the more we suffer, the more our power of endurance is increased. As our day, so shall our strength be. KNOWLEDGE AND EXPERIENCE.
Experience is knowledge obtained through practice. This is more costly than ordinary knowledge, and it is far more precious. Many do not make a proper distinction between the two, and, as a result, do not cherish proper respect for those who have had years of experience under varied, trying, and perplexing circumstances. Nothing is more unbecoming than for a novice to be over-critical and fault-finding with tried veterans who have not been set aside by God or their brethren. It is a sure sign of spiritual pride. It were wiser for such to put their shoulders under the heavy burdens of those who have long borne the heat and burden of the day, and brace them up by cheering words. By so doing, they would obtain an experience, and become useful men and women, instead of thwarting the purposes of God and their brethren respecting them. I have recently read in a testimony from a practical writer, that nearly all church and family trials grow out of a clashing of wills. This is very true. One will take a rash and premature stand, and will not yield an iota; another will follow the same example, and then another, until boisterous scenes occur, which often disgrace families and churches. Even murders have resulted from unyielding stubbornness about229 trifles, each one being determined to have his or her own way. Some have so long been accustomed to having their own way, that it seems natural for them to oppose everything that is proposed to them. It is right to be firm in matters of conscience, in which right and wrong are involved; but there are cases in which we can all yield without doing violence to conscience; and especially should those who lead others set an example in this respect. They will not lose, but gain much, by such a course. Others will yield to them in matters of right. It is a true saying that “yielding pacifieth great offenses.” Eccl. 10:4. “A soft answer turneth away wrath; but grievous words stir up anger.” Prov. 15:1. By taking revenge of an injury, we are only even with our enemy; but by passing over it, we are superior. And a more glorious victory cannot be obtained than to return kindness for injury. Those who give way to passion, and speak angry words, manifest real weakness of soul. They may at times think they gain victories over their enemies; but they are overcome by Satan and their own corrupt propensities. LABOR WHEN UNAPPRECIATED.
If we labor only when appreciated, we shall come far short of evincing that true missionary spirit which Christ has manifested to save us. He labored for us when we were his ungrateful enemies; and so must we often do for our fellow-men if we would persuade them to be Christians. We must expect that they will not appreciate us at first, and most of them never will; but we must not stop for that. If we do, we shall show that we are governed by selfishness, and not by love. If we were generally appreciated, it would be evidence that we were of the world, and were governed by worldly principles. Worldlings go by the plan of reciprocation. They love those who love them; and the Saviour teaches that they have no reward awaiting them in the next world. They work for appreciation and pay in this world, and they will have their portion in this world. Let us seek to be prized of God by manifesting to others the love with which Christ has loved us,—the love that acts, when it is unappreciated and is acted against, and secures a great reward to the disinterested, self-denying ones. A PERVERTED JUDGMENT.
By Joseph Clarke
You can hardly compliment a person more acceptably than by speaking of him as a man of sound judgment; and you can give great offense by saying that his judgment is weak or perverted. But in matters of religion, mankind show a very singular kind of discrimination. In the study of mathematics and the sciences generally, we agree, not only upon general rules and elementary principles, but upon the best modes of reaching correct results. On religious matters we differ to a degree that is truly astonishing, not only on general principles, elementary rules, and the best modes of study, but also as to results and final conclusions. The Jew has a creed that he loves and believes most complacently and solemnly; the Roman Catholic, from the pope to the lowest and humblest of his flock, is wonderfully confident of the infallibility of the church; the follower of Mohammed is equally certain that the Koran is the true, inspired word of God; and the pagan is no less firm in his adherence to the senseless rites and ceremonies of his religious belief. Among Protestants, also, there is a great variety of sects, differing widely in their views of the Bible. And although it is only about three hundred years since the first Protestant church seceded from the Romish church, yet since that time many hundreds of independent sects have appeared, each claiming to have the truth; and each one of these sects has claimed the especial care of Heaven. Now what does all this strange disorder mean? Why is it that men do not all agree upon religious principles, as they do upon those of a scientific nature? The answer is at hand; let no one take offense. In religious matters the race has, from the fall of our first parents, allowed outward appearances and preferences of a selfish and local nature to have a governing influence. Having lost its hold upon God, the human mind has, like a ship without chart, compass, or anchor, drifted far out upon unknown seas, until mankind have lost their reckoning, and each one sails as his fancy or his whim suggests; and leading minds, desiring to profit by the general confusion, gather around them whatever adherents they can. Upon subjects relating to the common affairs of life, where the consequences of error would be of a practical nature, men avoid mistakes; but upon matters of religion they cannot agree, because they naturally hate their Creator, whom they have offended, and from whom they are estranged. They walk in pride and rebellion, as a son who has long ago left the home where parental restraint was a burden. Is it not evident, then, that the majority of our race have perverted the judgment, until they are no longer capable of arriving at correct conclusions on religious matters? Is it not evident that we are all so perverted as to our powers of correct reasoning, that without the special aid of the Holy Spirit, we are continually liable to err? Here pride steps in, and asserts that such a conclusion is a little ultra; and that some, at least, have sufficient wisdom to act and teach independent of especial divine aid. And here is just where men have erred before; pride has led many of our predecessors to act without the aid of the Holy Spirit, and endless confusion is the result. If our blessed Lord and Master placed such especial emphasis upon this point, if he needed such aid as John the Baptist tells us that he received (John 3: 34), do we not all need especial aid in religious affairs? If the apostles needed a great degree of the influence of the Spirit, as they started out on their important mission (see Acts 1: 4, 5), do not all who are seeking for eternal life need the same influence? Why was Mohammed so far out of the way as to the truth? Because he trusted to his own devices, and allowed pride to have a ruling place in his heart. Why have the popes and their priests and cardinals gone so far out of the way? Because they walked in pride, and sought not unto the Lord for wisdom. Why have the pagan nations departed so far from the law of God? For the same reason; they scorned to seek Divine aid, and rebelled against the government of God. Unbelief and pride of heart have caused men to walk out from faith in God, to faith in themselves; and the result is before us. Who will claim a judgment unperverted and infallible? No one but the pope does this. It is presumption or pride that asserts itself, and forgets its dependence upon the Spirit of God for guidance. The apostles and holy men of God of all ages felt deeply their own weakness, and walked humbly and prayerfully, lest they should err from the true path; and this was their safety, that they had the word of God as a lamp to their path. “I COME QUICKLY.”
By Lina Orman
“When ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars, be ye not troubled; for such things must needs be.” Mark 13:7. He is coming, coming quickly,
To this sorrow-stricken earth;
Though the shadows fall so thickly
O’er the land which gave him birth;
Though the vine-clad hills of Judah
Lie in misty darkness dim,
Stretching out no hands of greeting
Eagerly to welcome him. He is coming, coming quickly,
And his feet once more shall set
On thy dusty hill-top shaded—
Purple-crowned Olivet;
For where once despised, rejected,
Where, for man, as man he trod,
He shall stand the manifested,
Mighty Saviour, Son of God. He is coming! though the nations
Whom he came and died to save,
Of his advent all unheeding,
Earthly honor do but crave:
They, the Prince of peace forgetting,
Foaming out their earth-born rage,
Each and all the other fretting,
Bloody war and tumult wage. He is coming! Like the lightning,
Shining out from east to west,
He will come—through clouds of darkness—
Sun of Righteousness confessed;
For these wars and darkening rumors
Are but thunder-claps before;
Loud Jehovah’s voice is speaking,
“Jesus Christ is at the door.” He is coming! They who listen
Hear the tinkling golden bells;
See the distant white robes glisten
Which the High Priest’s advent tells;
Smell the sweet pomegranate’s fragrance
Stealing on the laden air;
Know the spotless feet are pressing,
Lingering, willing still to spare. He is coming, quickly coming,
All the crooked to make plain;
Much—so much—has got entangled,
He will set it right again;
And his hands, once stretched in pleading,
Now will open wide to bless,
With the peace of God abiding,
Those who do his name confess. He is coming! And the trumpet
Mightily afar shall sound,
Calling to the wondrous meeting
All who rest in Christ around.
Then, while kings of earth are waging
Fiercest wars’ mid mighty din,
He will call his chosen to him—
“Come, beloved, enter in.” —Lina Orman, in London Christian. COUNTERFEIT
By H. J. Spicer
Does the counterfeit invalidate the true? No. Only the genuine is worthy a counterfeit. The existence of the latter proves that the former is considered valuable. What sense would there be in spurning all coins because a few are known to be spurious? Yet this is the glory of the overskeptical mind, which avoids all religion because of certain false systems. He whose boast is liberalism, rationalism, freedom from all sectarianism, usually proves himself emphatically a bigot when he ripens his no-creed into a creed,—narrow to that degree that he excludes the infinite divine, and confines himself to the paltry human resources. The Author of all has not left man without a science, without a religion. Universal History, in the light of reason, attests to an organized opposition, a power of darkness chiefly occupied in palming off counterfeits. Prove all, hold fast the good. In metallurgy the pure furnishes the test for the spurious. A pure system of morality may be required to substantiate its claims, not only by proving itself, but by giving criteria for the rejection of all other systems. The careful student will not fail to perceive that the Bible alone fulfills this requirement. Brevity forbids even a complete general comparison. Take not the most degrading forms of idolatry, ancient or modern, but note the noblest offspring of Rome’s, of Grecia’s genius. Can the characteristics of the manifold supreme gods, so human in all the attributes of love and passion, petty jealousy and incontinence, be reconciled with purity and goodness? The people could not rise above their imagined sources, hence, like the gods of their own creation, they reveled and feasted to excess in celebrating the mysteries. How incompatible with that temperance and sobriety enjoined by the Christian religion. See Homer’s priest of Apollo at Troy crying for vengeance, and more, claiming even injustice because, forsooth, he has thatched temples to that god. How does this balancing accounts with a deity appear alongside a prayer whose only plea is mercy through the merits of a divine Redeemer? Note the earthly rewards and honors for the leaders in other systems, which are repugnant to the principles of the true religion, and the pursuit of which debars from Heaven. How can the delirium of the old hag sitting upon the tripod over a pit of sulphurous or other poisonous fumes causing her to mumble oracles,—she knows not what,—or the shallow, senseless foolery of a modern spiritist medium be compared with the peaceable and pure inspiration of the Bible. The latter is not imparted on frequent occasions for idle curiosity or test purposes, but given rarely, as the Spirit of God moved upon men, and when reason could discover a crisis or necessity for such interposition. There is no need to pursue the subject further. It is only through choice that one can place Christianity below par or even at par with paganism. Reason never compelled it. The most extensive reading of mythology, not neglecting the Bible, could but cause the student to have a broader, higher view of the foundations and ramparts of eternal truth. What if there are points of resemblance? The true was first. The counterfeiter’s business is to copy. What shall we say, then, of such as claim that they are forced to yield all faith, and deny all responsibility? Ah! here is deception—a blindness of choice! Pitiable indeed the state of one who hardens the heart against the dealings of Providence, then seeks to avoid responsibility by denial; or the state of one who turns from God through disappointment, or an unfortunate greed for flaws in good men’s characters. The Bible reads, “The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.” More to the point than anything we can add is the selection from Ruskin for Ingersoll:— “You can never get at the literal limitation of living facts. They disguise themselves by the very strength of their life; get told again and again in different ways by all manner of people; the literalness of them is turned topsy-turvy, inside out, over and over again; then the fools come and read them wrong side upwards, or else say that there never was a fact at all. Nothing delights a true blockhead so much as to prove a negative,—to show that everybody has been wrong. Imagine the delicious sensation to an empty-headed creature of fancying for a moment that he has emptied everybody else’s head as well as his own! nay, that for once, his own hollow bottle of a head has had the best of other bottles, and has been first empty,—first to know nothing.” How the channels of thought all finally narrow down and are lost in the unfruitful sands of desert self? The glory of every effort for humanity evanishes because a selfish claim enters and takes it away. Such a man is not to be relied upon. He who is untrue to himself will be untrue to others. Reader, knew you ever a man who had lost all confidence in good men, that could himself be trusted? We impugn the honesty of such infidelity. It is not lasting in sincerity. It will be outgrown with the strengthening of the mind, or it will ripen into open hostility to God and goodness; and the curse become a sad deformity, to canker, and create unrest that cannot be disguised. To quiet fears, Satan, the great counterfeiter, usually asks, “Who is to judge when each one follows his own conscience?” Man has been granted a modicum of reason, with a faculty of comparison; and he who comes to the bar of God with a question of such coinage dares the great Detector of all counterfeits to remand back to its dust the baser metal,—the fearful and unbelieving, with the hated hypocrite,—all who have proven unworthy to wear the form of man by refusing the Refiner’s fire. The beautiful still exists and ever will exist; for the great source of beauty is eternal. The beauty of earth is broken by the breath of God's displeasure, but the germs remain, and will yet spring up in happy brightness. The most beautiful spots of earth are the most remote from the dwellings of men. Hidden deep in the tangled wilds of tropical forests are nooks resplendent with beauty. The mountain and the wildwood, unsoiled by the foot of man, show forth the highest type of earthly loveliness. Art vainly strives to equal nature. Trees, flowers, clouds, and birds grow and glow beneath the brush of the painter; but the trees wave not their leaves and toss not their branches, the flowers yield no fragrance, the birds are motionless and songless, and the clouds change not on the dull canvas. The sculptor hews a form of rare loveliness, but the white eyes return not the glance of love, the marble lips are mute, the chiseled hand has no warmth, and all is cold. The chisel cannot fashion a beating heart. Life and love are beauty, and where these exist not, all is chill. Dark clouds may hide the light of heaven, and the din of the world's busy tumult drown the song of bird and the sweeter song wafted from above, yet beauty is not dead. The natural world reveals but little of the loveliness of Him whose name is Love. “Nature is but the echo of his voice.” The echo is beautiful, but the voice is eternal beauty. The melody of Inspiration is louder and grander far than nature's anthem. The pages of the word glow with a brighter light than the orbs above, and gleam with a clearer luster than the waters below; for they shadow forth and faintly portray a coming life of full-developed beauty, a day of songs and joy, and a home made lovely by the presence of Jesus. Between us and the beauty of the higher life lies a work of preparation, a heart-work, a thorough work. Evils must be uprooted, and wrongs righted. The toil is now, the rest is to come. Gentleness, goodness, purity, and love must be woven into life's web, and spotless characters must be formed. Soul-beauty will secure the loveliness that never dies. PRAYER AND ITS EFFECT.
By Dr. Hamilton
Among the forms of insect life there is a little creature known to naturalists which can gather around itself a sufficiency of atmospheric air, and so clothed upon it descends into the bottom of the pool, and you may see the little diver moving about dry, and at his ease, protected by his crystal vesture, though the water all around and above be stagnant and bitter. Prayer is such a protector; a transparent vesture—the world sees it not; a real defense—it keeps out the world. By means of it the believer can gather so much of heavenly atmosphere around him, and with it descend into the putrid depths of this contaminating world, that for a season no evil shall touch him; and he knows when to ascend for a new supply. Communion with God kept Daniel pure in Babylon.—Dr. Hamilton. “If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between him and thee alone.” “I don't want to say anything to him about it.” “I don't want to speak to him.” “I am afraid it will only make a bad matter worse.” “I may say something that I shall be sorry for.” “I have made up my mind to say nothing about it.” “I think I shall let the whole matter drop.” “Well, I shall not do anything about it.” “Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not the things that I say.” ANTE-MORTEM
By M. J. Preston
How much would I care for it, could I know
That when I am under the grass or snow,
The raveled garment of life's brief day,
Folded, and quietly laid away,
How much do you think it would matter then
What praise was lavished upon me, when,
Whatever might be its stint or store,
It neither could help or harm me more? If, while I was toiling, they had but thought
To stretch a finger, I would have caught
Gladly such aid to buoy me through
Some bitter duty I had to do;
Though when it was done, they said (may be,
To others—they never said to me—
The word of applause so craved, whose worth
Had been the supremest boon on earth
If granted me then), “We are proud to know
That one of ourselves has triumphed so.” What use for the rope, if it be not flung
Till the swimmer’s grasp to the rock has clung?
What help in a comrade’s bugle-blast,
When the peril of Alpine height is past?
What need that the spurring paean roll
When the runner is safe beyond the goal?
What worth in eulogy’s blandest breath,
When whispered in ears that are hushed in death?
No! no! if you have but a word of cheer,
Speak it while I am alive to hear.
—M. J. Preston. TWO SIDES OF ONE CANVAS.
By Wendell Phillips
One beautiful afternoon in August there came to me the heart-broken wife of a State-prison convict. We tried to plan for his pardon and restoration to home and the world. It was a very sad case. He was the only surviving son of a very noble man—one who lived only to serve the poor, the tempted, and the criminal. All he had, all he was, he gave unreservedly to help thieves and drunkards. His house was their home; his name their bail to save them from prison; his reward their reformation. It was a happy hour to hear him tell of the hundreds he had shielded from the contamination and evil example of prisons, and of the large proportion he had good reason to believe permanently saved. Out of hundreds, he once told me, only two left him to pay their bail, forfeited by neglect to show themselves in court, according to agreement—only two! Bred under such a roof, he started in life with a generous heart, noble dreams, and high purpose. Ten years of prosperity, fairly earned by energy, industry, and character, ended in a bankruptcy, as is often the case in our risky and changing trade; then came a struggle for business, for bread—temptation, despair, intemperance. He could not safely pass the open doors that tempted him to indulgence, forgetfulness, and crime. How hard his wife wrought and struggled to save him from indulgence, and then to shield him from exposure! How long wife, sister, and friends labored to avert conviction and the State-prison! “I would spare him gladly,” wrote the prosecuting attorney, “if he would stop drinking. He shall never go to prison, if he will be a sober man. But all this crime and wretchedness comes from rum.” Manfully did the young man struggle to resist the appetite. Again and again did he promise, and keep his promise perhaps a month, then fall. He could not walk the streets and earn his bread soberly, while so many open doors—opened by men who sought to coin gold out of their neighbors’ vices—lured him to indulgence. So, rightfully, the State pressed on, and he went to prison—an honored name disgraced, a loving home broken up, a wide circle of kindred sorely pained, a worthy, well-meaning man wrecked. Sorrow and crime “all comes of rum,” says the keen-sighted lawyer. As I parted from the sad wife on my doorstep, I looked beyond, and close by the laughing sea stood a handsome cottage. The grounds were laid out expensively and with great taste. Over the broad piazza hung lazily an Eastern hammock, while all around were richly painted chairs and lounges of every easy and tempting form. Overhead were quaint vases of beautiful flowers, and the delicious lawn was bordered with them. On the lawn itself gaily dressed women laughed merrily over croquet, and noisy children played near. A span of superb horses pawed the earth impatiently at the gate, while gay salutations passed between the croquet-players and the fashionable equipages that rolled by. It was a comfortable home, as well as a luxurious one. Nature, taste, and wealth had done their best. It was a scene of beauty, comfort, taste, and luxury. All came from rum! Silks and diamonds, flowers and equipage, stately roof, and costly attendance, all came from rum! The owner was one who, in a great city, coined his gold out of the vices of his fellow-men. To me it was a dissolving view. I lost sight of the gay women, the frolicsome children, the impatient horses, and the ocean rolling up to the lawn. I saw instead the pale convict in his cell twelve feet by nine; the sad wife going from judge to attorney, from court to governor’s council, begging mercy for her over-tempted husband. I heard above the children’s noise, the croquet, the laugh, and the surf waves, that lawyer’s stern reason for exacting the full penalty of the law,—“All this comes from rum!” Woe unto him that giveth his neighbor drink. Woe unto him that buildeth his house by unrighteousness and his chamber by wrong, for the stone shall cry out of the wall, and the beam out of the timber, shall answer it.—Wendell Phillips. THE MESSENGERS.
By J. E. Green
Brethren and sisters, hold up the hands of the ministers by your sympathy and prayers. Encourage their hearts by word and act, and let them feel that though they have left home and loved ones, they are not entirely away from true friends, although among those who are new and untried. Make them feel at home at your firesides; but do not starve their souls with apologies. Remember they are human beings, with feelings and sympathies like your own; and if they come in unexpectedly, do not thus chill the warmth of your welcome. “But,” says one, “what shall I do, if the minister comes in and my floor is unswept and morning’s work undone?” I have no doubt he has seen the same thing at his own home many a time; so turn your attention to making him feel that he is welcome, and he will, like any other sensible man, mentally make apologies for you; if he cannot do that, he should choose a more opportune hour for his call. If he has come to stay with you while he presents the truth to your neighbors and friends, let him feel that you esteem it a privilege to share with him the best your house affords, and that you realize that the blessing of God comes with him. Pray for the ministers, that God may give them all needed wisdom, and may comfort their hearts as they go from their homes to gather in sheaves for the harvest of the Lord. But do not expect perfection in them. If God had meant that we should have perfect messengers, he would have sent us some of the glorified ones who have passed through earth’s conflicts, and are counted worthy of eternal life, like Enoch or Elijah. Remember, also, to pray for their wives and children. How many lonely hours, how many cares and heartaches, their companions must experience while deprived of the society of their best earthly counselor and friend. And, finally, let us all pray more for one another. True refinement is not mere outside polish. It goes deeper, and penetrates to the foundations of character. A really refined person does not speak or think of what is coarse, or low, or immodest. Her words are pure and her acts delicate. As sensitive as a flower, she does not like to associate with those who are not clean in life and behavior. We have seen perfect refinement in women whose education had been limited, whose opportunities had been few, and whose lives had been a struggle with poverty and care. Homely in manner, and not always grammatical in speech, the sweetness of a delicate nature was visible in all they did and said, shining as the flame of a lamp through an alabaster shade. And we have seen ladies arrayed in velvet and furs, ladies of great elegance of acquired art, who were still so coarse that one was reminded constantly of the jackdaw who borrowed the peacock’s plumes. Along with true refinement go graceful ways of conferring favors, ready and pleasing tact in helpfulness, and gentleness, which is the crown of womanly beauty. Georgia Governor Endows Southern Baptist Seminary Professorship
—Ex-Governor J. E. Brown, of Georgia, has given $50,000 to endow a Professorship in the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary at Louisville, Ky. THE COMING SCHOOL.
By Editor
Prof. W. N. Hailman, of Detroit, says the Chicago Inter-Ocean of March 30, 1880, lectured in the parlors of the Church of the Messiah yesterday afternoon, on the subject of “The Coming School.” From the report of his lecture, we take the following paragraph, in which he draws a contrast between the school of the present and the school of the future. We are happy to be able to say that those features which he sets forth as the crowning graces of the school of the future, Battle Creek College has in design, at least, anticipated, keeping them prominently before itself as aims for the present:— “The school of the present does little to make good men and women, leaving it to the family and other organizations. The school of the future will make it an object to attend to this deficiency. The school of the future will tend to make complete harmony in all the phases of man’s nature. The mind and body will be trained, educated, and cultivated simultaneously. The new school will make complete men and complete women, and develop strong intellects as the tools of the soul. The individual and the social nature will be developed at the same time.” RELATION OF PUPIL AND TEACHER.
By Eliza H. Morton
The responsibilities resting upon teachers have been dwelt upon in former articles, and it may be well to remind the young that they have duties which they owe to their instructors. The best teachers can but assist in the work of education. The brain-labor must be performed by the students. The rules of the school must be observed, or failure will be the result. Parents often listen to the complaints of their children, and sympathize with them, and unconsciously do a wrong the result of which cannot be estimated. Experienced teachers understand the wants of those under their care far better than pupils can understand their own wants, and it is often necessary to make changes in the classification of the school. How unwise for those put back into lower classes to become offended! How much better to cheerfully confide in the judgment of the teacher, and by faithful labor regain the ground lost! Students often seek to excuse their lack of energy and intellect by saying, “I can’t learn anything, because the recitations are not conducted as in most schools,” etc., etc. My dear young friends, let me ask you a few questions: “Are you doing your work faithfully? Are you obeying the rules of the school? Are you improving your time? Is the relation you sustain to your teacher a true and a noble one? If you cannot answer these questions affirmatively, you may be sure that you are in an error. The teacher’s position is no easy one. Encumbered with cares, he feels a burden for those whom he instructs which they can never know or realize, until they occupy a like position. Unappreciated, and oppressed with anxiety, the weary teacher often longs for kind, encouraging, helpful words from those around him. Teachers have hearts, and expressions of love and gratitude dropped from the lips of pupils, are cherished in the memory, and long dwelt upon with pleasurable emotions. Students, if you desire to accomplish the highest results, regard your teachers as friends, and labor with them in the great work of self-culture. All are mortal, and liable to make mistakes, and it is well to deal charitably; it is well to cultivate a spirit of kindness and love; for the “school of life” will soon be over, and in the great Examination-day the Divine Teacher will reward us according to our works. ROBERT RAIKES
By A. S. Hutchins
How many of the young friends of the Sabbath-school can tell us the connection that the above name holds with the introduction and establishment of the Sunday-school, and give the name of the place where and the time when it originated? We read of Robert Raikes as the father of the Sunday-school. He was the editor of a newspaper in Gloucester, Eng. He was born in 1736, and started his first Sunday-school in 1780. Nearly twenty years before he commenced the Sunday-school system he had been working among the prisoners, for their physical, moral, and spiritual improvement, by which he had earned for himself the designation, the “Teacher of the poor.” He appears to have been a man of strength, self-possession, and knowledge of the world. His influence was strengthened by belonging to, and moving in, good society. The king and queen sent for him at Windsor, to talk over his system with him, in order that they might, in some sense, be his disciples, and adopt and recommend his plan. In this interview he remarked that his work was “botanizing in human nature.” “All that I require,” said Mr. Raikes to the parents of the children, “is that they have clean hands, clean faces, and their hair combed.” To many who were bare-footed, and needed clothing, after they had been regular in attendance and earnest in the work, he gave shoes, clothes, etc. He manifested so much kindness that James Montgomery writes thus of him:— “Like a lone husbandman, forlorn,
The man of Gloucester went,
Bearing his seeds of precious corn;
And God the blessing sent. “Now, watered long by faith and prayer,
From year to year it grows,
Till heath, and hill, and desert bare,
Do blossom as the rose.” His Sunday-school interest was early strengthened and promoted by the king and queen, by several bishops, and other men of ability and influence. Within seven years from the rise of this work in Gloucester, it is said that the number of children taught in Manchester alone was not less than five thousand. One writer says of him: “His portrait suggests Cowper’s well-known description of one of his friends, “‘An honest man, close buttoned to the chin; Broadcloth without, and a warm heart within.’” He died suddenly at his house in Bell Lane in the city of Gloucester, in 1811, in his seventy-sixth year. Services memorial of this founder of the Sunday-school are to take place in England this year, 1880. But who that knew him, who of the children that sat under his instruction one hundred years ago, will join in these memorial services? Probably not one. They are gone. Like the receding wave, they have passed away. With them life’s record is made. In these lines I address many lovers of the Sabbath-school; and how great the contrast between the facilities for obtaining a knowledge of Bible truth at the present time, and those afforded the children living one century ago. Your weekly paper, devoted to the interests of religious instruction and the Sabbath-school, the Sabbath-school lessons, books, charts, maps, etc., with the many words of encouragement of writers, superintendents, and teachers, are all calculated to increase your interest in heavenly things, and point you to the Lamb of God, who will cleanse us from all sin if we love and obey him. Jesus bids us come to him. Oh! come and learn the Saviour’s matchless love. Come, prepare to reign with him above. Come, learn of him. Come, bear his yoke. His gracious words are, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” BE INTERESTED YOURSELF.
By Geo. R. Avery
To teach a lesson implies a previous knowledge of it; and this “knowledge is power,” which teaching renders effectual. To acquire this power the teacher must himself be a learner; what he thinks he has, should be re-studied, that he may know it is his; he is then prepared to teach it. Now to learn a lesson implies that something be learned; no mere rehearsal will suffice. We will suppose that a teacher glances over a lesson for the coming Sabbath: “Why,” says he, “I learned that lesson years ago; I can answer every question now, after reading it once, and besides, I have so much to do of more importance that I’ll leave this at present.” Sabbath comes; the teacher is in his seat, and every member of his class is punctual. They rise to sing, but our teacher’s mind seems unsteady; he is trying to sing, and at the same time think up answers to two or three questions in the lesson which he thought he knew. Recitation follows, being prefaced by the remark of the teacher, “We have a very interesting lesson to-day; I hope you are all prepared to recite.” The questions are read, and, with an exception or two, all in the class can answer; but alas for the teacher! some one has been thinking, and now questions come from the other side. To one he says, “Really, I don’t know;” the next he refers to a member of the class, and the teacher guesses that the answer is right; questions which follow are left open for the next week. The result of this lack on the teacher’s part is ruinous, to himself and to the class; his interest is only put on; and while those in his class who have a real love for the Bible may possibly retain it, others, who have not this love, never will have, under his instructions, until he shows his interest by real, earnest, prayerful study.