THE changes that were made in these religious rites at the cross, in no way make void the Ten Commandments. Let us see what a fatal mistake Christ would have made had he abolished any of these. The violation of these great moral principles, enjoined by the Decalogue, is what necessitated the laying of the plan of salvation, and led to the institution of the ceremonies in both dispensations. To do away the Ten Commandments would be to sweep away at one blow the plan of redemption. Had Christ abrogated the law by divine enactment, he would have sanctioned sin, and made null his own blood. Let us see, the Scriptures say that “sin is the transgression of the law.” 1 John 3:4. Now if the law should be abolished, there would be no sin (Rom. 4:15), and where no sin exists, the atoning blood of Christ is not needed.
When a government declares that a law which has prohibited certain acts is no longer in force, every subject of that government is at liberty to do those acts, and the government has given its sanction to the performance of such deeds, by the very act of repealing the law that prohibited them. If it was sinful to have other gods in the Mosaic dispensation, to make graven images, take the name of God in vain, violate the Sabbath, dishonor parents, kill, commit adultery, lie, steal, and covet, then it is just as sinful now.
Christ, who through each succeeding generation has been so anxious to bring sinners to repentance and make them righteous through his precious blood, never taught for a moment anything that was derogatory to the Ten Commandments, but, on the contrary, supported in his sinless life, and taught most emphatically by precept, the sacredness and the perpetuity of the Decalogue. For Christ to have abolished a single prohibition of the moral law would have been sin, and would have defeated entirely his mission on earth. It was his ardent love for perishing souls that led him to expand the principles embodied in the law. He considered them of such vital importance that he taught in as strong terms as could be employed the endless obligation of that sacred instrument. Hear the words of his Sermon on the Mount: “Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets; I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil. For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled.” Matt. 5:17, 18. The remainder of the chapter makes plain the obligations we are under, not only to love those we admire, and who treat us kindly, but to love those who hate and despise us. The meek and lowly Jesus has taught us not to resist evil. He said, “Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.” He asks the pertinent question, “If ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?” The exercise of this Christ-like love toward each other is the fulfilling of the law of God. This love for our enemies is heaven-born, and comes from Christ, the great Superintendent of the plan of salvation. It enables us to fulfil the commands enjoined by heaven. It makes us at peace with God, our neighbors, and self. Saith the Scriptures, “Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.” Rom. 13:8, 10. He who regards the law of God as a yoke of bondage is devoid of the love that enables one to love their enemies, and being without this, he can not meet its requirements; therefore he finds it more satisfactory to his carnal nature to abolish it. His mind is at enmity against God; it is not subject to his law, neither indeed can be, until he is converted. Rom. 8:7. When he is thoroughly transformed in character, he will love and obey every divine precept of the moral law.
Love for Sinners.
The capability of loving and redeeming a race who had rebelled against the government of Heaven, by violating its eternal law, existed only in the mind of the Godhead. None but the Father and Son knew the deep, untold suffering that was to be experienced by Christ, in order to reach to the lowest depths of sin. The Saviour knew full well that his pathway led through the fields of persecution, personal hatred, and religious bigotry. The midnight shades of bloody Gethsemane, and the agony of Calvary’s cross, were before him; yet he shrank not from the pathway in a single instance. If the law which man had transgressed could have been done away, his sufferings might have been avoided. That sacred, immutable instrument had been broken, and to bring man into harmony with the Law giver, divine blood must be shed. It is the “Thou shalt’s” and the “Thou shalt nots,” sent home to the sinful heart by the Spirit of God, that lead the trembling sinner to Calvary, where he beholds the love and intense suffering of the sin-pardoning Redeemer. He bows in tears at the feet of the suffering Victim, receives forgiveness, arises, and goes in peace. His faith grasps the risen, pleading Saviour, and he receives power to obey the mandates of Heaven.
To bring to repentance and then pardon has been the work of Christ in all ages. It is almost finished. It is no time now to remove the law that convicts of sin, but it is high time to yield to its reproofs. Let us follow our Saviour through the unpopular pathway of self-denial, faithfully endure the trials that come upon us, and at last sit down with him on his throne in the realms of glory. Listen to the privilege he offers, “To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.” Rev. 3:21. It is nothing less than the boundless love of our blessed Saviour that causes him to share his throne with those who have been in rebellion against him. It is his sufferings, his crucifixion, and his wonderful offerings of eternal rewards, that reveals his benevolent character to us. He has always been the same, and always will be; for he is the Christ of the ages to come as well as the ages of the past.
Reader, let us love and obey him, even if, like him, we are despised by the world and worldly relatives; then it will be ours at last to share with him in his glory.
E. HILLIARD.
Tonga, South Pacific Ocean
RIGHT PRINCIPLES.
NO MATTER how many are with you, if your councils are in the face of divine principles. Peace regardless of equity is a treacherous sleep, whose waking is death. It is not half so necessary to have a settlement as it is to have a right settlement. In the end, right political economy will work out prosperous national economy; and if for want of faith in the safety of rectitude you abandon sound and proved principles, or let them go by default, all your good intentions will not save you from national wasting and destruction.—Henry Ward Beecher.
SUNDAY BASEBALL.
By Stemple White
The Sunday question is now on in baseball circles. It so happens that the Cleveland, Ohio, National League Team has so arranged its schedule for the season of ’97 that it includes nine or ten Sunday games at home. Many protests and resolutions have been sent in to the club headquarters, and all the local ministers and several church organizations, have criticized the local management. One of these criticisms comes from the Men’s League of the Trinity Congregational Church, and denounces ball playing on Sunday as a “direct violation of the institution of the sabbath.”
Is it possible that physical exercise on the diamond on Sunday is a violation of the institution of the Sabbath? The Sabbath was made for man at creation, when Jesus Christ rested and blessed the seventh day after having worked six days. The apostles of the Author of the Sabbath tell us that the Sabbath, the Lord’s day, always precedes the first day of the week. No matter how early work be done on Sunday, there is in it no Sabbath-breaking.
The substance of the criticism was really this,—if you play ball on Sunday, we will not patronize you on other days. This means a religious boycott.
Chas. W. Mears, a baseball enthusiast, in defense of “Sunday games,” wrote of the criticisms as follows:—
“They display the narrowness of the holy mind and give ample evidence that church training has not had the effect of teaching the laborers in the vineyard that people who live in glass houses should not toss bricks. When it comes down to a question of theology, the people who object to ball games on the first day of the week, ought to be asked to prove that Sunday is the real Sabbath. In earlier years the writer attended several sessions of Seventh-day Adventist meetings, and he considers that these much-maligned religious workers have pretty good evidence of the truth of their claim that Saturday and not Sunday is the Christian Sabbath. We doubt the health of a moral sentiment that denies to any free American the right to do as he pleases at any or all times.”
The National Reformers could take some good lessons on religious liberty from Mr. Mears.
STEMPLE WHITE
Brighton, Iowa.
THE STORY OF A COMFORT BAG.
It was a dreary day. The good ship Hope was outward bound, and the raw wind that whistled through her rigging was doing her good service, for it filled her sails and sped her on her course.
There were some days when it seemed as if nothing could be more beautiful than to be upon the ocean. When the sun shone down brightly and tipped the crests of the waves and the broad wings of the sea-gulls with silver, when looking over the side of the ship down into the water it was a deep translucent green, and the calm sky bending over the ocean and meeting the horizon in every direction was studded with fleets of cloud ships, then nothing could be more delightful than life on the ocean waves.
But it was different on such a day as this. The sky was a heavy leaden gray, and the water reflected the same dull color. The great waves seemed to roll themselves sullenly along, instead of leaping and dancing joyously as they did sometimes, and the wind, instead of being fresh and invigorating, was raw and cold.
Jack Lane, one of the crew, was glad to go below when his watch was over, for he felt chilled “to the very marrow of his bones,” as he would have expressed it.
He had a button to put on his pea-jacket, and as he set about this task, he remembered that when he was in port last a comfort bag had been sent to him, among other things, by the secretary of the American Seaman’s Friend Society.
“Guess I’ll overhaul that comfort bag and see what’s in it,” he thought to himself, remembering that he had not thought to open the package before.
He untied the string, and, taking off the wrapping-paper, found a comfort bag that brought out an exclamation as soon as his eyes fell upon it.
It was indeed a beauty, made of strong gray linen, bound with bright red braid, while a pretty pen-and-ink drawing of a ship under full sail decorated one side of the bag, and an anchor the other side.
Would you like to look over his shoulder as he opened the bag and took out one thing after another? Of course you would, for perhaps you would like to make a comfort bag for a sailor yourself, and then you will know what to put in it.
There were spools of strong linen thread, black and white; there were buckles of several sizes, and buttons, too; there was wax, a pair of scissors, a large thimble, a box of paper and envelopes, a little pocket inkstand that screwed up tight so that the ink could not get out, and a penholder large enough for a sailor’s rough hand to grasp comfortably; there were balls of strong tape, both black and white; there was a package of court-plaster (one10might guess it was a boy who packed that bag); an emery, a needle-book full of needles; a small copy of St. John’s Gospel, with large, clear print; a prettily illuminated text, in the shape of a small cardboard anchor with the words on it, “He careth for you,” with a silk cord by which to hang it up, and a letter directed in a round boyish hand to “The sailor who gets this comfort bag.”
Jack opened the letter with a new feeling of curiosity. He very rarely received a letter, and he never wrote one, and he wondered who had written this letter, and what there might be in it for him.
MY DEAR SAILOR: I wish I could know who you are and where you will be when you get this letter. I am a boy ten years old, and I made this comfort bag for you all myself, and put in it what I hope will be of use to you, and a real comfort, especially the Gospel and text. I have wanted to be a sailor all my life, and I was sure I should be one when I was big enough, until six months ago. I got knocked down by a horse then, and ever since I have had to stay in bed all the time. The doctor says I can never walk any more, except with a crutch, so I know I will never be a sailor now. That is worse than the pain, I am so disappointed. Now that I can not be a sailor myself, I want to do all that I can for sailors. When I was first hurt, my doctor gave me a text like this to help me to be patient. If I remember all the time that God cares for me, I am more willing to stand the pain and not mind my disappointment too much. I hope you love God, too, and that you know that he is your Friend and cares for you. I wish you would write to me. Every night I shall pray for you that you may be kept safe in all the storms, and that you will be a good man. I do not know who you are, but God knows, and he can take care of you. I wish you would pray for me too, that I may be very patient and brave. Good-by, dear sailor.
From your friend, SPENCER HAWLEY.
“Poor little chap,” said Jack softly to himself, as he read the last page of the long, carefully-written letter. “And so he’s praying for me. I never had any one to pray for me before since mother died, when I was a little shaver not his size. He thinks that God cares about an old hulk like me, does he? Well, maybe it’s true. It would be mighty comforting to think I was going to drop anchor in a safe harbor some day. I suppose this little book would be a good chart to steer by. Well, I’ll see, I’ll see.”
Spencer did not get the letter for which he had hoped, for Jack was a poor penman, and there are some things that are easier to say than to write, but one day Spencer was surprised by a visit from his unknown sailor friend, who came to tell him how he had learned to steer by the Gospel chart, and hoped some day to make a safe harbor in heaven.
The little text, with its assurance that God cared for him, and the knowledge that he had an early friend who, without having ever seen him, cared enough for his comfort to send him the bag with its useful contents and the loving letter, and who would pray for him, had been the means of bringing him to Christ. Who knows how much good each one of us can do for the brave men who spend their lives upon the ocean, exposed to all its perils and dangers? Shall we not try?—Christian Work.
The Real Cause of Financial Depression.
By W. N. G.
At a meeting in New York a few weeks ago for the relief of the poor, Mr. John T. McDonough, of the Labor Statistics Bureau of Albany, said: “Last night I listened to the stories of more than fifty women, each under oath, of such poverty and degradation as would not enable them to live as Christians, while their employers were amassing great fortunes. Is it any wonder that the masses cry out when they look into their empty coal boxes and realize that the action of four or five railway presidents can raise the price of coal fifty cents a ton, pouring $40,000,000 into their coffers to pay luxurious dividends on watered stock?” These statements, coming from an undoubted official source, are only a few among the many proofs that the real cause of the depression in this and other countries is the continual concentration of the wealth of the country in the hands of a few individuals and combinations. As the wage-working classes are cramped for means to purchase the necessaries of life, the retail merchants and small manufacturers are deprived of the trade upon which they naturally rely. And the tendency of legislation and judicial decisions is to encourage such concentration of wealth, and the consequent oppression of the masses. Yet we are told by many optimistic advocates of moral reform by political means, that “this is a Christian nation,” and “the world is growing better.” We are living in an age of great political and religious deception. W. N. G.
A SPECIMEN CONVERSION.
By W. N. G.
An illustration of the manner of conversion in a large “evangelical” church in this city came under our notice recently. A young lady rose once upon call in one of the meetings held by a noted revivalist, and gave her name on one of the blank cards passed around for the purpose. This was her only experience—simply standing up once, upon call. A week or so afterward, the pastor of the church where she was an occasional attendant called upon her. He merely referred to the fact that he had her name as one who had risen in the revival meeting, and stated that the next Sunday was communion day and she could come and join the church. He asked no question as to her religious experience, nor gave her any instruction as to religious duty. She was to come Sunday morning and join the church, that was all. This was on Friday; the next afternoon she attended a matinee at a theater, and on Sunday morning was taken into the church without further ceremony. Speaking of the matter to an acquaintance, this young “convert” said one could be a Christian according to her idea and go to theaters. It is not surprising that she should entertain such an idea, when the pastor of the church to which she is united manifests such a conception of conversion and church-membership. It is from this low standard of Christian profession and life that comes the “Christian Citizenship” idea of sustaining Christianity by means of the ballot and civil law. You will always find such pastors ready to uphold enforced Sunday observance, and kindred measures. And what else could be expected? Knowing nothing practically of the power of the Spirit, they naturally turn to the power that is in sight.
W. N. G.
The Church’s Authority Over Priests
IN course of a recent trial in Brooklyn, N. Y., the cause being the suit of a Catholic priest for damages against the Friars Minor of the Order of St. Francis, it was brought out in evidence that the Roman Catholic Church claims perpetual authority over a priest, even tho deprived of his priestly functions, and claims the right to put him in prison if she had the power. The claim remains, but the power has been taken away—temporarily, and in some localities.
WHEN GRANDPA ASKED THE BLESSING.
By Florence Josephine Boyce
GATHERED at the breakfast table, age and youth had met;
Grandpa, old and silver-haired, tapping with his cane,
Looked above his spectacles at the prattling set,
Bent his head above his plate and tapped his cane again.
All was silent save the voice of laughing, blue-eyed Ned,
Telling what a time he had to climb the lightning rod,
When, in whispers, baby Will touched his arm and said:
“Keep ’till, Eddie; don’t you know that grandpa ’poke to God?”
— Florence Josephine Boyce.
PERSPECTIVE
By Elizabeth P. Allan
Such grave and earnest tones of remonstrance reached my ear, as I approached my friend's room, that I hesitated about intruding. I found her winsome young daughter with her, and the mother had evidently been rebuking her, for the girl's face was flushed, and there were tears in her eyes.
“Come in,” said my friend. “I have finished what I was saying to Jenny, and I hope she will remember my wishes.”
“Ah, these children, these children!” thought I to myself. “How wayward they are, even gentle things like Jenny, and how tremendous are a parent's responsibilities!”
“I have just been telling her,” continued my friend, “that she must not wear her evening gloves when she goes shopping in the morning. In the first place, it is not genteel; and, in the second place, it is extravagant.”
Her evening gloves! And yet, I assure you, her tone and expression, and the impression made on the child, would have befitted a serious wrong-doing,—one that had issues in time and eternity.
And now that she had used up these resources of superior wisdom, parental authority, solemn warning, and affectionate influence, on the evening gloves, what—O, what would she do if she found her young daughter making mistakes that involved risks infinitely greater? Could she do more than repeat this scene? And would not the young judgment instantly set it down as about as grave a matter as wearing evening gloves in the morning?
Perhaps the sharp pang that I felt, and that kept the little incident from seeming ridiculous, came from its likeness to my own ways. Perhaps it may give you the same twinge.
Do we not reprove our children for annoying faults with a vehemence out of all proportion to their relative importance?
If we show instant vexation at rude noises from our boys, and at careless treatment of clothes by our girls, and then are slow to watch for or correct their failures in higher duties, what effect does it have on these young lives given us to make and mold?—Simply this: It drags the unimportant and material things of life into the foreground; it relegates to the dim background the soul things, the precious loftiness and spiritual realities of life. It ruins the perspective.
Shall we not guard ourselves each morning, before we leave our rooms, against this careless handling of our children? For the temptations to it meet us on the threshold of each new day.
I said, guard ourselves; but alas for us, and alas for our children, if we have no higher security against mistakes than that! nay, here is our hope:—
“Being perplexed, I say, Lord, make it right;
Night is as day to Thee, darkness as light.
I am afraid to touch
Things that involve so much,
My trembling hand may shake;
My skilless hand may break;
Thine can make no mistake.”
—Elizabeth P. Allan, in Sunday School Times.
PUNISHMENT OF CHILDREN.
By Kate M. Holt
So many recent articles on the punishment of children discourage whipping, and say the child should be ruled by love. The latter is true, but the former need not be separated from it. God rules with love, but wrong-doers are severely punished, and he tells us that “he who spareth the rod, hateth the child.” The command is quite plain, I think; but we are sometimes troubled with the same thought that enters into the heads of some children—we know as much as “our Father.”
We can not expect good from the fear of the whip, which is sure to be the result when upraised in the hand of an angry parent. There are few of us, grown ones, who would not flee in terror from a madman with a whip or club in his hands, and some parents in punishment present no more peaceful a scene. Get some one to view you with a kodak when about to punish your child, study the result, and perhaps my meaning will be plain. If the face is an angry one, you are not more fit to govern your child than he is to rule you. Did our Saviour look with anger on wrong-doers? Was it not with pitying love?
It is an unpleasant task to whip a child, and so we shrink from it, as we do from many other of God’s commands, and try to find what we are pleased to call a better way, or, rather, one more to our liking. When the little one has done wrong, do not rob him of his play by way of punishment, and do not chastise him in the presence of any one else (you destroy his self-respect, and he grows bolder in disobedience); rather take him apart from the others. Take him on your lap, tell him that God gave him, a little child, to you, and that with your love and help he is to grow up to be a useful man; but that you can not do this alone, you must have his help, and together the help of God.
When people have done wrong they must be punished, and it is much easier to learn while we are little to do what is right.
It may be a long struggle, but the naughty little spirit must be quelled. Explain why you must punish, and then administer the punishment. By that time, your anger, if you feel any, will be cooled, and your whipping will be within reason. Your child will understand that the punishment is the result of his disobedience, and not the way of working off your anger. The little lips will meet yours in a loving kiss, and “I love you, mama,” will come from the very depths of that little heart, for he feels that he has a hand in the molding of his future self, and that mama and papa stand ready to guide and help him.—Mrs. Kate M. Holt, in Housekeeper.
INFLUENCE
By J. E. Green
A KNITTING-NEEDLE is a very small instrument; we would hardly think it could wield any influence, but I will tell you of one that did.
In beginning a piece of knitting work I got one needle in that was a very little larger than the others. Nearly every time I came to that needle I mentally pronounced it a nuisance; and at last when the stocking was almost done, I took it out and put in a finer one. When I began the other stocking I used the finer needle, but soon saw that my work was not all right. It was hard and unyielding and smaller, not much like the first one; I disliked to believe that it was owing to the absence of the larger needle, but after a time I concluded to try it and see. So I put in the coarse needle, and soon my work became soft and pliable; and now I feel very much attached to the despised needle.
There are many lessons to be learned from this little incident. People go in and out among us, quiet, unassuming people, so much so that we think they are of not much use in the world; we give them no credit for any influence, sometimes we almost pronounce them nuisances, but after a time they leave us, perhaps forever, and then we discover that they did have a great influence, altho it was wielded so quietly that, like the knitting-needle, we did not perceive it. It is not for us to judge our fellow-men; each one has a place and a calling, and one may not know whether his neighbor is filling his place as God would have him or not.
Even little children have an influence, and they may make it felt for good or bad, even as the knitting-needle did.
How good it will be if at last the Master can say unto us, “Well done, you have exerted a good influence, have done a good work”!
J. E. GREEN.
SAY NOT, I AM A CHILD.
By A. Weeks
WHEN the Lord placed upon Jeremiah the sacred, responsible work of reproving, admonishing, and instructing his people, Jeremiah said, “Ah, Lord God! behold, I can not speak; for I am a child.”
This would seem to be only a consistent sense of his insufficiency for the great work, that leads him to draw back, yet the Lord says to him, “Say not, I am a child.” Why not?—There is something more than Jeremiah’s natural powers to be taken into consideration. “Whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak. Be not afraid of their faces; for I am with thee to deliver thee, saith the Lord. Then the Lord put forth his hand, and touched my mouth. And the Lord said unto me, Behold, I have put words in thy mouth.” Jer. 1:6-9.
When the Lord works for us and with us, there is no excuse for drawing back. Human frailty is not to do the work. God in his wisdom and might is sufficient for any work. Then it is only for us to let his power work, submitting to him in all things, and his purpose will be fulfilled in us. A. WEEKS.
Lake View, Mich.
WHAT CONVERTS MEET IN CHINA.
The following story, told by the veteran missionary, Rev. George Owen, of Peking, in the Chronicle, of the London Missionary Society, illustrates the character of many of the converts in China, and the arguments and methods by which their kindred and neighbors seek to keep these converts from the confession of their faith. The story is somewhat long, but it is very interesting:—
“I was anticipating Sunday,” writes Mr. Owen, “with more than usual pleasure, as there were to be seven baptisms. But disappointment was in store, for only six of the candidates appeared. Chang Shun did not come. All wondered why, but none knew. He had been a candidate for two years, had a good knowledge of Christianity, had often openly confessed his faith in Christ, and publicly exhorted others to believe. What had happened? He had told us that his friends were strongly opposed to his becoming a Christian, and that he had not informed them of his approaching baptism. Had his friends over-persuaded him? Or had his courage failed him at last? We were not kept long in doubt. Monday afternoon he sent us a letter. It read as follows: ‘Just before my baptism, which was to take place on the 26th, I met an old friend, Jung Ho, who made inquiries regarding my intentions. I grew very excited, and spoke warmly of entering the church. He wondered at my enthusiasm, and urged five reasons against my becoming a Christian. “First, the emperor is not a Christian. You are a Mancho and live on his bounty, and it would be forgetting on which side your bread is buttered to become a Christian. Secondly, Christians are not allowed to burn paper money or offer sacrifice to their ancestors, and thus they not only destroy human relationships, but violate the customs of their forefathers. Thirdly, your venerable mother is strongly opposed to your becoming a Christian, and to oppose her would not only be unfilial but a breach of public morals. Fourthly, not one of your ancestors, and not one of your friends, but would hate such a step on your part. Not one of your family has ever been a Christian; your becoming one will be a disgrace to your ancestry, and even your wife will revile you. Fifthly, your baptism will no doubt please foreigners, but your own countrymen will hate you, your ancestors will hate you, and all your relations and friends will hate you. For these five reasons I urge you not to be baptized.”’”
“‘As I listened I became utterly stupefied; but suddenly light broke in upon me, and I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself.’
“We read this letter with a good deal of doubt and wonder. The reasons given are so commonplace, and he himself when speaking in the street chapel had exposed their fallacy, what could be the real explanation? We had no clue to guide us, so could only pray and wait. A few days afterwards whispers reached us that the letter was a forgery, and that Chang Shun remained steadfast. In about ten days he himself appeared and told me his story. It was this: Two days before he was to have been baptized he told a friend, whom he supposed to be well affected towards Christianity, of his baptism. That friend told his elder brother. On Saturday this brother invited him to his house to consult him about some business. It was late when the business was over, so he was urged to stay the night. Next morning when he rose to dress he had no clothes. Every thing except his undergarments had disappeared. He made inquiries about them. They had been pawned to meet a pressing debt, and would soon be redeemed. Meanwhile would he not have some breakfast? He suspected a trick, but was not quite sure. Breakfast over, he begged for his clothes, saying he had a pressing engagement. Oh, yes, his clothes! they should be redeemed at once. But morning wore to afternoon, and afternoon to evening, still no clothes were forthcoming. Monday passed and he was still a prisoner. On Tuesday12his brother suddenly said, ‘You need not think any more of entering the church; I have written them a letter in your name which makes that forever impossible. Here is a copy with their reply; read them.’ The reading was distressing work. ‘I wondered what you would all think of me. But I said nothing. Feeling giddy and ill, I lay down on a mat in the court for about two hours in silence. I could not speak, I could only mourn and pray.’ Still they kept him prisoner, and it was some days before he was allowed to leave the house.
“‘When he had finished his story he said, ‘Will you baptize me next Sunday?’ I said, ‘Yes, with joy.’ We then prayed together, and the following Sunday he was baptized.’”—Missionary Herald.
HOW THE GOSPEL SPREADS IN BURMA.
UNDER the above head the Rev. David Gilmore, of Rangoon, Burma, tells the readers of the Missionary Review various ways by which the Gospel makes its way in Burma. Among them, these will be found of interest:—
“In working among the Karens, we find events taking a course somewhat different from that outlined above [among the Burmese]. When the people of a Karen village have heard of Christianity, and been favorably impressed by what they have heard, they do not at first ask to be received into the church, as a rule. They generally ask the missionary to send them a school-teacher. The reason why the Karens do this, and the Burmans do not, is because the heathen Burmans have schools of a sort already, the heathen Karens have none.
“When a Karen village asks for a school-teacher, the missionary aims to send a consecrated young man there as soon as he can. The people of the village provide a place to hold school in, and do what they can toward the support of the teacher. The mission does the rest. The teacher teaches the four R’s—reading, ’riting, ’rithmetic, and religion—to his pupils. But this is not all he does. As he has opportunity, he makes known the truths of the Gospel to the people of the village, and tries to bring them to Christ. In due time it becomes necessary for an ordained minister to visit that village and administer baptism. Scores of Karen churches have had their origin in just such a way as this. The establishment of a Christian school in a heathen Karen village means the organization of a church later on. In many places, the school is the only way in which a Christian worker could secure a foothold.
“An illustration of the usefulness of the school as an evangelistic agency is found in the work of a young Karen man in the Maulmain district. The young man had no unusual ability or education; but he had a desire to lead souls to Christ. With this end in view, he entered a heathen village and set up a primary school. With this as a base of operations he labored on, patiently and quietly, until the village came over to Christianity. He then left it, to repeat the same work in a second, and, subsequently, in a third village.
“The work of the medical missionary is second to none as a means of preparing the way of the Gospel. Lovers of missions generally understand how the Gospel is proclaimed in the dispensary and during the professional visit. But at Maulmain there has recently been an interesting development of medical missionary work, under the care of Miss E. E. Mitchell, M.D. Dr. Mitchell secures the houses of grateful heathen patients for the holding of Sunday-schools. Then the young people from the church and school, under the lead of their teachers, go out to these houses on Sunday, gather together the heathen children, and teach them about Jesus and the Bible.
“The distribution of tracts and scripture portions has always been, in Burma, a favorite way of spreading the Gospel, and a way whose usefulness has been demonstrated again and again. A fragment of a tract, picked up by the wayside, was the beginning of a considerable ingathering in one of the suburbs of Rangoon. The man who picked it up had his curiosity excited by its very incompleteness, and went to the nearest mission school to learn more about it. Man as he was, he sat as an humble disciple at the feet of Ma Mee, the Burmese head mistress, to learn more of the religion taught by that tract. He was converted himself, and was the means of leading several of his neighbors to Christ. Cases have occurred where men have been baptized whose conversion was due under God to tracts received years before.
“One way of spreading the Gospel, which I suppose to be peculiar to Burma, is at what are known as funeral meetings. The Burmese Christians have a custom, borrowed from the Buddhists, of holding meetings for religious discussion at any of their houses where there has recently been a funeral. Heathen neighbors are generally willing to attend such meetings, and can not take umbrage if (in a Christian house) Christianity comes to the front in the discussion. Through these funeral meetings it is often possible to reach people who would not be willing to attend the services at the meeting-house.
“There is one way in which the Gospel has of late years been spreading more than was formerly the case, and in which many of us expect to see great developments in the near future. I refer to the evangelization of heathen Burmans by Christian Karens. The Karen Christians have always shown a praiseworthy zeal in laboring for the unconverted of their own race; but until recently they have not felt that they could do much for the Burmans, by whom they were once bitterly persecuted, and by whom they are still looked down upon. But as the Karens, increasing in education and wealth, are coming to command the respect of the Burmans, they begin to feel a responsibility for the evangelization of the Burmans. This sense of responsibility shows a tendency to grow. Not long ago a Burmese church was organized in a village near Henzada, as a result of the labors of the Karen church in a contiguous village. One by one the Burmans were led to Christ, and baptized into the fellowship of the Karen church, tho they could not understand a word that was said in the meetings of that church. When they were sufficiently numerous, they were dismissed to organize a church where they could worship in their own language. Truly not in vain is it written, ‘By men of strange lips and with another tongue will He speak to this people.’”
“Mention ought to be made of the large number of native evangelists commissioned and supported by organizations of native Christians. Our native Christians in Burma have societies for the prosecution of both home and foreign missions, and through these societies many native preachers are kept at work. And in the last analysis, the converted native is the best means for spreading the Gospel; and the efficiency of any missionary society will depend largely on the use it makes of this instrumentality. Our American Baptist mission in Burma has always made great use of the native laborer. But we are not content with employing as many native helpers as our means will allow. We consider it more important to induce the native churches to support as many native workers as their means will allow, and, most important of all, to induce the membership of our churches to do what they can, personally and individually, to make known the Gospel to those that have it not.”
CONSECRATION
By James Eastwood
COME, Lord, Thou heavenly Guest,
And Thy sweet Spirit give,
That we, by wrong oppressed,
A perfect life may live;
That we may show to sinners here,
How they may live in godly fear.
All in this world we'll leave,
For our dear Saviour's sake;
For He Himself did give,
That we His life might take.
Not only we, but all who've heard,
May have His blessing through His Word.
Then when He comes to take
His children home at last,
He'll open us the gate,
All trials will be passed.
Then shall we raise glad praises sweet
To Him in whom we are complete.