Earlier text: BOTH SIDES OF THE SABBATH QUESTIONWe have something to say to you, correspondents, and we fear it will make some of you feel unpleasantly; nevertheless it may be duty to tell you some plain facts. But first we would state that after opening your communications they are put into the hands of one who fills your orders for books by mail, then separates them as follows: Communications designed for the Review are laid aside for Bro. Smith's table; those for the Instructor, for Bro. Amadon's table; those containing business for the Review and Instructor, for Bro. Walker's table, and those letters which require our personal attention are laid upon our table. During the past winter we have received about thirty letters per day, and have not, probably, read more than one in ten of them. A good proportion of these letters are written for the Review, and of course find their way to Bro. Smith's table. Some of them are written so poorly that it is a waste of time and patience to try to read them. About one in four of them find a place in the Review. Three-fourths are condemned for some one or more of the following reasons: some are written so badly that it is doing the printer injustice to give them to him with the necessary corrections marked upon them. We have to copy them, or lay them aside. We generally do the latter. Others are hastily and carelessly composed. The sentences need to be changed so much that it is doubtful whether the writers would know them in print were it not for their names being signed to them. These generally get laid aside. Other communications are so very wordy, that ideas are like neighbors in a very new country; that is, far apart. Words are signs of ideas, and every sentence should express one or more of those ideas which possess value. We wish to state our own experience touching this subject for a few days only. When Bro. Smith commenced his review of Preble, he handed over to us his treasures in the line of doubtful communications, which had been accumulating for the last three months. We did not count them, but presume there were at least two hundred. Bro. Smith had used the best looking, best composed, and best theology, which left our task to supply the paper from what remained rather a dry one. But we were comforted with the thought that Bro. Smith had got rid of the job, and was in this respect free to do another work. We toiled two days, long and sad days they were, over the pile of spoiled foolscap, letter and note, and found some half dozen short articles for the Review, enough to fill about one page. The balance is respectfully rolled up, and placed upon a high shelf in the Office, where there is, probably, enough such matter to fill the Review for months. Many of the articles would be excellent if they were composed with more care. Others would be used with the greatest pleasure if the hand writing was plain; and still others cannot be used in consequence of poor paper, poor pens, or poor ink. The printer's eyesight is one of his best treasures, and it is abusing him to make him trace lines over poor paper, made by an old scratching pen, occasionally dipped in pale ink. For these evils we offer the following general recipe, which in some particulars will prove a good remedy for them all: Write only when you have something to say; then express your thoughts as fully and clearly as possible, in fewest words. When necessary, call a council of dictionaries, grammars, and other helps. Write each word so plainly that you could instantly recognize it if it stood disconnected from the sentence to which it belongs. Use good wide-ruled paper, and never write between lines. Obtain the best pens, and first quality of ink. Never copy from books and papers if you can send us the books and papers to copy from, according to your directions, or call our attention to the page or pages of the books or papers. We may have them in the Office, or can obtain them. We would earnestly appeal to a certain class to take up the pen, and as often as once a week, write something for the Review. We refer to that class who will follow the above recipe, if they write at all. You may have a doctrine, an item of experience, or an incident of interest, which would make somewhere from two lines to a page of the Review. We intreat you not to hide your light under a bushel, but write out your thoughts, and let the thousands of readers of the Review, be instructed and cheered by them. Our preachers should write more. They can almost always find time to write an article of some kind each week. Some of them of best minds and experience are miserable writers. A few dollars laid out by them in the purchase of a dictionary and helps on composition, pen, ink, paper, and practice with copy-book before them, would be a splendid investment. A Brief Experience.
By E. Goodrich
ABOUT the time the Sabbath question began to be agitated among Adventists, I was invited in company with another man, to prepare myself to oppose the spread of the supposed error. And having listened to a great deal of anti-sabbatarian preaching, and believing that somehow or other the Sabbath had been abolished or remodeled, I did not know which, I consented to oppose it. I had no compunctions of conscience, neither did it occur to me that never having heard the other side, perhaps I was prejudiced and therefore had better wait until I had heard. I engaged to oppose. After investigating the question several days, as I was one evening seated in my chair leaning against the wall meditating upon it, all at once like an electric shock a thought in the form of a well defined question presented itself to my mind. The question was, Will you teach and grant to others the right to violate the fourth commandment, when you yourself cannot show that you have a right to break it? The thought was sickening, I saw at a glance that I could not answer the challenge. I saw that I could not show a single reason for breaking it myself, and therefore it would be presumption in me to say to others, Break it. And in the time that it takes to tell it, the resolve was formed and the answer came, No, I never will! I never will grant to others a right which I do not possess. And although I did not embrace the Sabbath until sometime after it had been discussed, I was convinced that all the argument against it was public opinion, and all the objections those of personal interest; yet as the fourth commandment was one of God's precepts, given at the same time and in the same manner, and clothed with the same sanctity as the other nine of the decalogue, I then and there resolved that until I could find an undoubted right for breaking it myself, I never would teach others to do so. And having never found such a right, I never have taught others to disregard the fourth commandment. Men's rights are derived rights, they are the rights of creatures. To teach the Sabbath as a duty only, is unfair. It is not only a duty but a privilege—a right guaranteed by the Creator to all his creatures—beasts of burden as well as man. The duty of resting and the right to rest, are inseparably connected. You cannot have one without the other. Men's right to rest is founded on two facts, that the Sabbath is sacred as a day of rest. If it is thus sacred it is our duty to observe it. If the Sabbath exists at all it exists as divinely ordained—sacred as a duty, and equally sacred, a right. If the right to rest is perpetual so is the duty. And where is the man, however much filled with his no-Sabbath, no-law sentiments, who would have the boldness to say to all that labor and toil in the great157 tread-mill of time, Sirs, you have no right to rest? There is no more courage to say this than there was on the part of the priests, the scribes and elders to say that the baptism of John was of man, for fear of the people. And it is a matter of doubt if there are any who are willing to shoulder the responsibility of saying in so many words, Resolved, that as the fourth commandment is abolished, therefore men have an undoubted right, not only to disregard it themselves but to teach others also. There should be no doubts, no quibbling in this matter. Either the Sabbath as a divine ordinance does or does not exist in this age. If it does, then have the courage to say yes, certainly by all means. It ever has existed, and always will exist, both in this world and in the world to come. Those who advocate the perpetuity of the Sabbath and the fourth commandment use the strongest terms of which they are capable. And if the Sabbath is as great a burden, and to teach it as great a heresy as the no-Sabbath and no-law advocates seem to teach, why not say so? Why not use language that admits of no double meaning? But some how or other there seems to be a general impression, if not a settled conviction in the minds of all, that man's physical, moral and religious well-being demands a Sabbath. And all are willing to have one. And as the fourth commandment of the decalogue is the only one that recognizes a weekly Sabbath, no one objects to its sacredness and perpetuity, provided that it is applied as they wish to have it. I judge that this is the case from the fact that the most bitter opponents of the Sabbath never have a word of objection to offer against the preaching of the perpetuity of the ten commandments, provided the fourth is not applied to the seventh day. And they have not one word of fault to find, or criticism to offer against the almost universal use of the term Sabbath, if it is applied to the first day of the week. From this it would seem that all the opposition against the Sabbath as a divine institution, and the fourth commandment as a moral precept, is not a matter of principle, but a matter of personal interest. Kind reader, look at this matter, and ask yourself whether you have any right to live in opposition to the fourth commandment, or to teach men to do so. Substitutes.
By R. F. Cottrell
"ARE not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? may I not wash in them, and be clean?" 2 Kings v, 12. So said Naaman the leper, the captain of the host of the king of Syria, when Elisha the prophet had directed him to wash in Jordan seven times, with the promise that in so doing, he should be healed of his leprosy. He was induced, however, to comply with the directions of the prophet, and was cured of his leprosy. But who now believes that, had he taken his own way and gone and washed in those waters of Damascus, he would have been healed? No one. Not because there was any more virtue in the waters of Jordan to cure the leprosy, but because the word of the Lord had bidden him wash there. The virtue, as far as human agency was concerned, was in obeying the word of the Lord. When Saul, the king of Israel, was commanded to destroy utterly the Amalekites, to leave nothing alive either of man or beast; and he took the notion that it would be a fine thing to save Agag the king alive to grace his triumphant return, and also that it would be a very pious thing to save some of the best of the sheep and oxen, for the purpose of offering a sacrifice to God of that which the Lord had delivered into his hand, and which had cost him nothing, and so have a splendid time of it, the word of the Lord to him was, "Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." His substitute was not accepted. It is fashionable at the present day to offer to God a substitute for his holy Rest-day; and the remark is often heard, "I believe it makes no difference what day we keep, if one is kept as it ought to be." Are not Abana and Pharpar better than all the waters of Israel? Is not the work of redemption greater than the work of creation? Is not the claim of the day of the resurrection to our observance, greater than that of the Sabbath? may we not rest on it and be accepted? The only reason why Naaman could not wash in the waters of Damascus and be clean, was that the Lord had not commanded him to do so, but had told him to wash in the Jordan. So the reason why resting on the first day of the week, or any other of the "six working days," is not acceptable to God, is because he never commanded it; but, on the contrary, he has commanded us to rest on the day on which he rested, namely, the seventh day. It is bad enough to neglect to do what God has commanded us, without insulting him to his face by offering him a substitute. "Be astonished O ye heavens at this, and be horribly afraid, be ye very desolate, saith the Lord. For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water." Jer. ii, 12, 13. THE man who carries a lantern in a dark night can have friends all around him, walking safely by the help of its rays, and he not defrauded. So he who has the God-given light of hope in his breast, can help on many others in this world's darkness, not to his own loss, but to their precious gain. The Good Works of the Gentile Church before Ordained.
By R. F. Cottrell
"For ye are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them." Eph. ii, 10. There can be no good works aside from the keeping of the commandments or law of God; otherwise the law of the Lord would not be perfect. But the good works which the Ephesians and other Gentile churches were required to practice in Christ Jesus, were not the requirements of some new law, something newly ordained for their observance, at the introduction of the Gospel dispensation; but they were those which God had before ordained, that all who obey the gospel should walk in them. When the apostle John wrote "a new commandment" to his little children, he did not abolish the old commandment. Instead of this, he is careful to confirm the old commandment before speaking of the new. He says, "Brethren, I write no new commandment unto you, but an old commandment which ye had from the beginning. The old commandment is the word which ye have heard from the beginning." He would have his brethren distinctly understand, that though, in a certain sense, he wrote a new commandment to them, the old one—the word that had come down to them from the beginning—was not abolished, but was in full force and had an undisputed claim to their obedience. R. F. Cottrell. A Chilling Influence.
By Joseph Clarke
The influence of a cold, heartless christianity upon the world is now being manifested in all the walks of public and private life, in its cringing, shuffling maneuvers for wealth and fame, and all the world calls precious. This we expect from the nominal church, but not from those who profess faith in the present truth. See, there is a little band of believers who are overcoming the world through faith in those precious truths which are fitting up the people of God to withstand the temptations of the last days, a family who have long had a name as S. D. Adventists come among them: hope and joy fill all hearts because that voice of experience is now to be heard among them, and they will now have help. Alas, the chilling influence. Instead of help, the young converts whose hearts were pulsating in their first love of the truth, are bowed down, and grief and sorrow instead of joy, bickering instead of peace, and the seed of distrust and doubt are plentifully sown. Alas, who has blighted the fair flowers of innocence, hope and faith? What hand can hinder or stay the evil? Again a young and faithful and loving company set out on the journey to that land where all is holiness and peace, and love, they have just got the truths from lips burning with love to God and his holy word; they see the truth in its beauty, they expect great things from a people who for years have experienced the sanctifying truths of the word of God as brought to light in the third message, they are filled with astonishment at the strong and impregnable positions held by this people; they enter upon a new life; the Bible never seemed so beautiful, so clear, so interesting. Their eyes are now upon those who for years have been under the influence of these truths. What do they find? Are they disappointed? Do they ever find coldness where they expected to find hearts glowing with love to God? Do they always find the love of God where they had looked for it? Are they ever chilled with the lukewarmness of those they expected to find zealous? Am I, are you, dear brother, clear in this matter? Have we so lived that as new and hoping bands were brought into the light, they could see a reflection of the truth in us? Alas, for one I mourn in deepest sorrow, that my own course has not always been such as to give joy to such young and hoping converts; bitter tears, bitter thoughts arise, to think that such young, confiding, hoping hearts should be disappointed, as they look in vain for that perfect stature of men in Christ they had hoped to find. Of late this consideration has taken deeper hold of my mind than ever before. Shall we fulfill the hopes of the young convert, who in the fervor of his first love forms high and exalted opinions of his more experienced brethren, or shall we blight them in the bud? Will holy angels commissioned of God, look with calmness upon hopes so blighted, expectations so raised, to be disappointed? What human heart does not bleed at the thought of so frustrating the good work of God? Who does not mourn when the chilling influence of the carnally minded professor is thrown around the young convert, as he first begins his christian course? Who but God can calculate the extent of such an injury over which men and angels weep?
JOSEPH CLARKE. Bro. White: The following taken from the American Wesleyan, having been perused with interest, I submit to you, hoping it may be interesting to other readers of Review if you think best to insert it. It well illustrates the growing tendency to pleasure-loving in these days.
S. B. Whitney. For thirty years a sense of the sacredness of the house of worship has been diminishing under the influence of lectures, so comic, droll, and vulgarly witty, as to keep congregations in roars of laughter, clapping, stamping, and shouting. If the power of habit is such, that a young man cannot go through a ball-room without dancing as he goes, what can we expect of youth, who, at the lecture, are expected to clap their hands, stamp, laugh, and shout with all their might? They will come into the house of worship scuffling, pushing, tripping, laughing, and jesting. They will be disorderly during service, and will go out more like a riot than a religious assembly. Mr. G. made little impression on the Sunday, because on Saturday evening he had given a lecture in the same pulpit, at the close of which was sung, "Old Tip's the boy that swings the flail,
And makes the loco's all turn pale,
Hurra, hurra, hurra."
Again, the solemn "Let us pray" on Sabbath morning made little impression, because the last thing the lecturer did on Friday evening before saying "Let us pray" was to sing, "Do sign the pledge, and I'll marry your daughter,
Then said the deacon I'll drink nothing but water,
O that will be joyful, joyful, joyful,
When I marry the deacon's daughter."
Will it be said, that public taste demands such comic lectures and songs? Then taste is vitiated, and we are tending to a state like that of the tenth century, when buffoonery was the popularity of the pulpit. Will it be said that fun was the life of the Washingtonian movement? It may in truth be said, that excessive fun and laughter-provoking drollery, and vulgar wit, ruined that cause, and nearly brought down the whole temperance cause with its ruin. The Washingtonians deserve great praise for their sympathy for the degraded; but in excessive mirth their enterprise evaporated. You will point me to some erratic revivalist, as comic as a Drury Lane stage, who carries a congregation along in whirlwinds of excitement, laughing, weeping, and laughing again. I have seen him, heard him, and know him. I would rather read Shakespeare; for there is genius, while your revivalist has only low wit. He might act on the degenerate stage of this day, but Shakespeare would be ashamed of him. Do you tell of his glorious revivals? I have in mind one of them, where he counted one hundred converts, and in two years ninety-nine backslid, and the one who endured, was rooted and grounded in the new life, by some one, only known to God as a revivalist. How did Christ preach? It would be almost blasphemous to even suppose him using the language of some popular preachers of our time. We almost turn pale to think of Jesus coming into a lecture, when a learned D. D. or Professor has wrought his audience to uproarious laughter. "No room for mirth or trifling here."
Sin, death, and hell, are grave themes. The judgment is grave, eternity is grave. Treating these themes playfully is the parent of infidelity. Men often say that the minister does not believe, cannot believe, the doctrine he preaches, of endless punishment, while it takes no hold of him. He does not consider the awful meaning of the word eternity, or he cares little for the souls that perish, while he plays with the people at their homes, and plays in the pulpit, "courting a smile, when he should win a soul." "So did not Paul." Mark his deep seriousness. "For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God." And this was done "publicly and from house to house," and with "many tears." He had great heaviness and sorrow, wishing himself accursed from Christ, (crucified,) for the salvation of his countrymen. Read the lamentations of Jeremiah, the fasting, mourning, and weeping of Daniel, for their brethren when they saw the awful consequences of sin. Let the house of devotion be sanctified, the pulpit, the minister, the sermon, the lecture, all be sanctified. Let us open the doors of the sanctuary with devotion, and walk the aisles as on hallowed ground, and silently take our seats, not with salutations, and gossip, but with silent prayer. "How pleased and blest was I,
To hear the people cry,
Come, let us seek our God to-day!
Yes, with a cheerful zeal,
We haste to Zion's hill,
And there our vows and honors pay."
Likenesses.
By E. W. Darling
My mind has been somewhat exercised heretofore on the subject of likenesses, and as my attention was again called to the subject by Bro. C.'s letter in the Review, I concluded to give my reasons and the ground on which I stand with regard to it for the consideration of the brethren. First I would say that abstract words have a positive meaning, always the same; but they may be so qualified by the sentence or circumstance with which they are connected as to have widely different meanings. For example, to kill is to take life not only of man but of any brute, bird or insect, and the sixth commandment says, "Thou shalt not kill." The sentence does not here qualify the language but circumstances to which it relates evidently do, and no person of common sense would scruple to take the life of beast or insect when necessary. Now the second commandment says, "Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image or any likeness of anything." My mind was once quite scrupulous and undecided as to the exact meaning and extent of these words which led to investigation with the following result. 1. Webster defines likenesses to be "resemblance, to be like." 2. Therefore the language must be qualified for one letter is the likeness of another and the commandment does not prohibit the practice of producing letters in writing. 3. If the language must be qualified, what but reason and common sense shall qualify it, reason itself teaches that, not only the production of the likeness of the different letters of our alphabet but also of beasts, birds, buildings, fruits, flowers &c., are harmless, instructive and no violation of the commandment when made for the above purposes. Therefore we must conclude that the commandment forbids the making of such images, and only such, as are made for the purpose of worship. But is not the likeness of a friend, or any beautiful picture liable to gain too prominent a place in the affections? or be the object of worship? Certainly, so158are our friends, our food, our money. One can worship the mammon of unrighteousness, however little he may possess, or he can make a god of his belly. But the proper use of food, or of money is no crime; neither does it tend to crime. The same with likenesses. Besides Ex. xx, 4, the Bible speaks of the same in the following places which are justly subject to the same remarks. See Lev. xxvi, 1; Deut. iv, 16-19; v, 8, 9; Ps. xcvii, 7. That the people of this generation have gone to a fearful extreme in making and adoring likenesses and pleasant pictures, is evident. Among other denunciations against the works and men of the last generation, is Isa. ii, we find in verse 16, that the day of the Lord shall be upon all pleasant pictures. May God forbid that our houses should be flooded with them, or our hearts polluted by their worship; but may we know the truth, and may it make us free from sin, error, inconsistency and superstition.
E. W. DARLING. The Profit and Power of Prayer
PRAYER is ever profitable; at night it is our covering; in the morning it is our armor. Prayer should be the key of the day, and the lock of the night. Prayer sanctifies all our actions. He is listed in God's service and protection, who makes it his first work to be enrolled by prayer under the standard of the Almighty. He carries an assistant angel with him for his help, who begs his benediction from above; and without it he is lame and unarmed. IN 1805 there was a very distressing drought through most parts of New England; and in none was it more sensibly felt than in the central part of Massachusetts. It threatened the almost entire failure of the potato crop, which at that day was the chief dependence of poor people for subsistence. Berries dried upon the bushes, grass crumbled under the feet of travelers, fields of corn were shriveled and dying, cattle lowed in the fields for fodder, the dew no less than the rain was withheld, wells and streams were in a great measure dry, and those who had no heart to look to Heaven for relief, knew not where to look. Under these circumstances, the minister and people in a certain town, where the means of living were in less abundance than in other many places, set apart the 31st day of July for fasting and prayer. The day was, in appearance, like most others that had preceded it, clear and warm till toward night, furnishing no indications of a change. The writer of this attended the religious service of the occasion. In the afternoon the minister of the place led in prayer, with deep religious feeling and earnest importunity. After stating the distresses of the people, with humble confession, among other petitions he presented the following, "O Lord God, we beseech thee, let it be known this very day that there is a God in Israel who heareth prayer; and let showers of rain descend to refresh the scorched earth. Deny not our request, for the honor of Thy great name." After taking a little refreshment, I mounted my horse to return home, six or eight miles. Before I had proceeded one hundred rods, the heavens dropped rain; and within one half mile I had to turn in to save myself from a thorough drenching. After tarrying till the rain abated, I passed on, and found the road filled with puddles of water; and this I expected to find even to my own door. But no; when I left the town for which prayer had been offered, I found no signs of rain except a few drops insufficient to lay the dust. Through all the following night repeated and plentiful showers fell upon that favored town; and to that place they were almost entirely confined. In all the neighboring towns the "fleece was dry." As I reached home, and especially when I heard the circumstances above related, the truth was impressed upon my own mind, that the Christian's God was the hearer of prayer.—Puritan Recorder. READER, you hope very likely to be a real Christian some time, and fit to go to Heaven. You hope to repent and believe on Christ, and have a good hope before you die. But why not to-day? What is to prevent you? Why should you wait any longer? Why not this day awake and call upon your God, and resolve that you will sleep no longer? I set before you Jesus Christ the Saviour, who died to make atonement for sinners, Jesus who is able to save to the uttermost, Jesus willing to receive. The hand that was nailed to the cross is held out to you in mercy. The eye that wept over Jerusalem is looking on you with pity. The voice that has said to many a wanderer, "Thy sins are forgiven," is saying to you, "Come unto me. Go to Jesus first and foremost, if you would know what step to take. Think not to wait for repentance and faith and a new heart, but go to him just as you are. O, awake thou that sleepest, and Christ shall give thee light. Why not to-day? Sun, moon and stars are all witnessing against you; they continue according to God's ordinances, and you are ever transgressing them. The grass, the birds, the very worms of the earth, are all witnessing against you: they fill their place in the creation, and you do not. Sabbaths and ordinances are continually witnessing against you; they are ever proclaiming that there is a God and a judgment, and you are living as if there were none. The tears and prayers of godly relations are witnessing against you; others are sorrowfully159 thinking you have a soul, though you seem to forget it. The very gravestones that you see every week are witnessing against you; they are silently witnessing, “life is uncertain, time is short, the resurrection is yet to come, the Lord is at hand.” All, all are saying, Awake, awake, awake! O, reader, the time past may surely suffice you to have slept. Awake to be wise. Awake to be safe. Awake to be happy. And why not to-day?—Rale. THE way is dark, my Father! cloud on cloud
Is gathering thickly o'er my head; and loud
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand
Like one bewildered! Father, take my hand,
And through the gloom, lead safely home, Thy child. The day goes fast, my Father! and the night
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight
Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral hand,
Encompass me. O father, take my hand,
And from the night, lead up to light, Thy child. The way is long, my Father! and my soul
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal;
While yet I journey through this weary land,
Keep me from wandering! Father, take my hand,
Quickly and straight, lead to heaven's gate, Thy child. The path is rough, my Father! many a thorn
Has pierced me; and my weary feet, all torn
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet Thy command
Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand;
Then, safe and blest, lead up to rest, Thy child. The throng is great, my Father! many a doubt
And fear, and danger compass me about;
And foes oppress me sore. I cannot stand
Or go alone. O Father, take my hand,
And through the throng, lead safe along, Thy child. The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand,
And, reaching down, lead to the crown, Thy child. The way is dark, my child, but leads to light;
I would not always have thee walk by sight.
My dealings now thou canst not understand.
I meant it so; but I will take thy hand,
And through the gloom, lead safely home my child. The day goes fast, my child! but is the night
Darker to me than day? In me is light.
Keep close to me, and every spectral hand
Of fears shall vanish. I will take thy hand,
And through the night, lead up to light, my child. The way is long, my child! but it shall be
Not one step longer than is best for thee;
And thou shalt know at last, when thou shalt stand
Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand,
And quick and strait, lead to heaven's gate, my child. The path is rough, my child! but O, how sweet
Will be the rest for weary pilgrims meet,
When thou shalt reach the borders of that land
To which I lead thee as I take thy hand,
And safe and blest, with me shall rest, my child. The throng is great, my child! but at thy side
Thy father walks, then be not terrified;
For I am with thee, will thy foes command
To let thee freely pass; wilt take thy hand,
And through the throng, lead safe along, my child. The cross is heavy, child! yet there was One
Who bore a heavier for thee—My Son,
My well-believed. For him beat thine, and stand
With him at last, and from thy Father's hand,
Thy cross laid down, receive a crown, my child. “What a Pity!”
By J. A. Dayton
EXCLAIMED a lady who was conversing not long since upon the merits of a very respectable neighbor. "She is a good neighbor, kind, and winning in all her ways. I believe she's a Christian, too, and I cannot help loving her; but oh, what a pity, she's an Adventist!" Yes, replied the other, too bad! in a tone which evidently implied that in her estimation, at least, this was a crime so great as to outweigh every other consideration, and sink her many virtues in the dust—they were counted lost in view of this one glaring defect. What a pity! she's an Adventist! And inwardly I could but echo her words, What a pity! as before my mind's vision arose the vast multitude who, like them, feel if they do not speak it, What a pity! But why? Truly are the words of the apostle fulfilled before our eyes. The time has already come when they cannot endure sound doctrine. Here, in this so-called Christian age, is a lovely woman, a faithful wife, a devoted mother, a child of God, pitied, because she keeps his commandments, hopes in his word, loves the Saviour, and looks forward with bright anticipation to the time when he will come to take his children home. Ask them if any one of these things are wrong? Oh no, but what a pity! she's an Adventist! Sadly my thoughts ran forward to the time when the seven last plagues will be poured out without mixture of mercy, when there shall be a famine in the land, a famine for hearing the words of the Lord, when men shall cry for mercy and shall not find it, when Jesus, whose coming they now so much deride, shall appear in glory with his holy angels to reap the harvest of the earth, and while those who long for his appearing are caught up to meet him in the air; those, who now look upon them with pity and contempt, will again in tones of utter wretchedness and agony as they view the reward that might have been theirs, exclaim, What a pity! And methinks the angels of God and the happy saints as they witness their just doom and remember that Jesus shed his precious blood that all who would, might have eternal life, will answer the sad wail as it goes up from earth, What a pity! Lord help thy children so to live that no sin may be found against them save that they love thine appearing. An old writer has very justly and forcibly remarked, "As it will raise our endeavor high to look on the highest pattern, so it will lay our thoughts low concerning ourselves. Men compare themselves with men, and readily with the worst, and flatter themselves with that comparative betterness. This is not the way to see our spots, to look into the muddy streams of profane men's lives; but look into the clear fountain of the Word, and then we may both discern and wash them." "Looking unto Jesus" should be the Christian's motto. In Him he sees the only authoritative standard of devotion; in His life the only full interpretation of the rule of duty. To look at Him abashes spiritual pride, and induces the humblest estimate of self. In looking at Him, we feel the majesty of goodness, and the lustre of His excellence quenches our rush-light of earth as the sun puts out the stars, so that we cannot even discern how one star differeth from another star in glory. The true Christian aim is not to outshine others, to eclipse their brightness, but to shine in the light of Jesus. Shall the sand grains vie with one another, when all their brightness is but the reflection of the sun? Shall men be content to climb higher platforms than others, when, with eagle wings, they should soar above the earth itself? A sense of present imperfection is a better spur to effort than the proud feeling of comparative superiority. Only as in the light of Jesus we see how deficient we are, shall we be impelled to seek larger measures of grace, and make higher attainments in holiness.—Maine Evangelist. Satan has a great many servants, and they are very busy running round, doing all the harm they can. They ride in cars; they follow the soldiers; they do business in the city, they go into the country; they enter houses and break open stores; they visit our schools. Some of their favorite resorts are colleges and academies, where our boys are. Boys, do you hear that? Indeed, they are very fond of young people everywhere. Some of Satan's servants are "like roaring lions, going about seeking whom they may devour." You are not much in danger from them, because you can keep out of their way. Some are so vile-looking, you would naturally turn from them in disgust; others are such fellows that you would not be seen in their company; and there are still others you would rather keep clear of, without exactly knowing why. You know they are not good, and that is enough. But all of Satan's followers are not so quick to show their colors. Some are cunning, and pretend to be a great deal better than they are, in order to deceive people; and they do deceive people, horribly. It makes my blood run cold to think of it. I know four of them, and some of the mischief which they have done, I found out their names and I want to put you on guard against them, for they are very sly. They will make believe to be your friends. They appear sociable, easy, good-natured and not in a hurry. They seem to wait your own time, and entice you when you least expect it. "Oh, we want you to enjoy yourselves," they say, "and not be so particular;" and the arguments they use are very taking; at least, I must think so, since so many of the young listen to them, and are led away by them. And all, I believe, because they did not know in the first place who was speaking to them. They were deceived. They did not see it was Satan's uniform they had on. Do you ask for their names? Here they are: "There's no danger," That is one. "Only this once." That is another. "Everybody does so" is the third; and "By-and-by" is the fourth.—Child's Paper.