Earlier text: Signs of Christ’s Near AdventJudicial Murder of Christ.
By J. H. Waggoner
SENATOR SARGENT, of California, in a speech recently made, spoke of “the assassination of Christ by the Jews.” In reference to this the following appeared in a San Francisco paper:— “In answer to Senator Sargent’s very polite remark condemning the Jews for the assassination of Christ, I deem it proper to say that he is a very jealous [zealous] (!) Christian. It is necessary for this gentleman to commence reading the New Testament, and then he will find that Christ was tried by three different parties, namely: Pilate, Herod the King, and the High Priest. He was found guilty of blasphemy. Hence the execution [not assassination] was carried into effect by the Romans. I hope, when Mr. Sargent will have attentively read the New Testament, he will then become a true friend to Israel; as Christ said: Who does for my brethren does for me.
“A. ROSENBERG.” On this Hon. J. W. Dwinelle furnished to a San Francisco paper a lengthy article, published March 6, 1877. It is an able article, canvassing the subject of the death of Christ from a purely judicial stand-point. Mr. D. speaks highly of the Jews of the present day, but justly insists that they have no right to feel so sensitive over the errors of their ancestors as to endeavor to hide or to distort a historical fact. That part of Mr. Dwinelle’s article in which the readers of the Signs will be specially interested here follows:— “WHY WAS JESUS PUT TO DEATH?” “One of the best Jewish treatises on the special topic which we are now discussing is that of the Rev. Dr. Schlesinger of Albany, New York, entitled, The Historical Jesus of Nazareth, recently published. I do not agree with that author in all his views, nor am I at all indebted to him for my facts or conclusions, but his book is very candid, and the following canon of historical criticism is as fair as could be stated: ‘Of Jesus and his time the New Testament alone gives us any records, which we must necessarily submit to a careful examination before forming any judgment of what they contain.’—p. 6. Yet outside of the New Testament we have evidence in the writings of Josephus, Tacitus and others, of what the policy of Rome was in relation to its subjects; that the Jews were among the most refractory and turbulent of its conquered populations, and were treated with peculiar severity; what sort of man Pontius Pilate was; and that the slightest pretexts were often seized in order to inflict sanguinary outrages upon the Jewish people. The gospels themselves relate that Pilate slaughtered some Galileans at the very altar, and mingled their blood with their sacrifices. Luke 13:1. And Caiaphas, the Jewish High Priest, one of those who conspired to put Jesus to death, seems not to have had any personal malice towards him, but to have thought that it was better that ‘one man should die for the whole people,’ rather than be permitted to excite popular commotion which might afford the Romans a plausible occasion for putting the whole nation to the sword.” John 11:50. “Looking at the accounts given in the four gospels, and combining them into one narrative, the inference seems to be clear that the protection of the Jewish nation from the bloody methods of the Romans was the motive of the leading Jews in the prosecution of Jesus. “JESUS NOT EXECUTED FOR BLASPHEMY, BUT FOR TREASON.
“How was his ‘taking off’ accomplished? I think Mr. Rosenberg is in an error when he says that Jesus was executed upon a conviction for blasphemy. The Jews convicted him of blasphemy, which by their law, was punishable with death, and asked Pilate to execute the sentence. Matt. 26:65, 66; Mark 14:63, 64; Luke 22:70, 71. But both Herod and Pilate decided that blasphemy under the Jewish ecclesiastical law was not a crime under the Roman municipal or political law, and that they could not execute sentence of death pronounced upon Jesus by the Jewish council, but would discharge him from custody. John 19:12; Matt. 27:23–25. “The result of all the proceedings set on foot for the Jews for the condemnation of Jesus under the Jewish law, is thus summarized in chapter 23, of St. Luke’s gospel, verses 13–16:— “‘And Pilate, when he had called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, said unto them, Ye have brought this man unto me as one that perverteth the people; and behold, I, having examined him before you, have found no fault in this man touching those things whereof ye accuse him. No, nor yet Herod; for I sent you to him, and lo, nothing worthy of death is done unto him. I will therefore chastise him, and release him.’” “But the Jewish leaders who had decided that public policy demanded the death of Jesus, were not to be baffled of their purpose. They instantly shifted their ground, and accused him before Pilate of high treason against the Roman Emperor. This ‘change of base,’ and its effect upon Pilate are thus stated in St. John’s gospel, chapter 19, verses 12–16:— “And from thenceforth Pilate sought to release him; but the Jews cried out saying, If thou let this man go, thou art not Cæsar’s friend. Whosoever maketh himself a king speaketh against Cæsar. When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he brought Jesus forth, and sat down in the judgment seat in a place that is called the Pavement, but in the Hebrew, Gabbatha. And it was the preparation of the passover, and about the sixth hour, and he saith unto the Jews, Behold your King. But they cried out, Away with him, away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King? The chief priests answered, We have no king but Cæsar. Then delivered he him, therefore unto them to be crucified. And they took Jesus and led him away.” “Pilate thus found himself, as it were, caught in a trap. He was a good-natured, highly-cultured savage; like Bulwer’s ‘Arbaces,’ in The Last Days of Pompeii, he would step over a worm, rather than wantonly and needlessly crush it out beneath his feet. But when emergencies arose, he was equal to any supposed necessity, even of the bloodiest kind. He would not put Jesus to death merely because the Jewish Ecclesiastical Council had pronounced that penalty against him upon a charge of blasphemy, and in strict accordance with the Jewish law. But he very well knew the suspicious character of the reigning Cæsar, Tiberius, and his insane jealousy of any attempt to dispute his imperial authority, or, even as his lieutenants, to share it. He possessed too fully the modern politician’s instinct of self-preservation, to permit himself to be accused at Rome of permitting a political adventurer to style himself, ‘The King of the Jews,’ without being punished for that crime; and he did not propose to appear by attorney before the Emperor, and explain to him, as Jesus had already explained to himself, that the kingdom of Christ was ‘not of this world.’ He submitted to the inevitable, and accepted the easiest solution of the problem. He had tried to ridicule the conspirators out of their purpose, as we have just seen: ‘Shall I crucify your King?’ but without effect. He therefore judiciously sentenced Jesus to death upon the accusation of high treason against the Roman Emperor, and crucified him accordingly. “THE INSCRIPTION OF THE CRIME IMPUTED TO JESUS.”
“But he took a grim and humorous revenge. In the same gospel of St. John, chapter 19, verses 19–22, we read: ‘And Pilate wrote a title, and put it on the cross. And the writing was, JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. This title then read many of the Jews; for the place where Jesus was crucified was nigh to the city; and it was written in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin. Then said the chief priests of the Jews to Pilate, Write not, The King of the Jews; but that he said, I am King of the Jews. Pilate answered, What I have written I have written.’” “It is probable that the Roman law required that there should be written over the head of crucified malefactors a statement of the crimes of which they were convicted and for which they suffered. In complying with this custom, Pilate did all that the law required of him, and probably more. The narrative shows that the inscription contained a covert sneer at the Jewish leaders, by way of revenge, and that it was purposely made so explicit as not to require any explanation, either at Rome or elsewhere.” “I think it is clear from the citations I have made, that Jesus was put to death upon a charge of treason against the Roman Emperor, and that all the forms of law were strictly complied with. But it is equally evident that the whole proceeding was a sham. The charge was false, and both the accusers and the judge knew that it was so. The accusers did not care whether Jesus had committed treason against the Roman Emperor or not; on the contrary, they knew that he had not committed such treason, yet thought it necessary, for the good of the Jewish nation, that Jesus should die, and therefore resorted to this charge as an available expedient to accomplish that purpose. Pilate also knew that Jesus was innocent of the imputed crime, and resented the necessity which had been forcibly and craftily imposed upon him; yet chose to put an innocent man to death, rather than answer an accusation against himself for inefficiency or partiality before a jealous tyrant at Capri or at Rome. The execution of Jesus was therefore a judicial murder; and if his treachery and craftiness did not add a stealthiness to it which characterized it as an assassination, then I confess that I do not understand the English language.” Thus asked Pilate, of One who stood before him, and who had shortly before declared unto him, “For this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto truth.” Intent on proving to the rabble without that he was Caesar’s friend, he waited not for an answer to the question he had asked, and which to all is of such momentous weight, but “went out,” and with the words, “I find in him no fault at all,” offered to comply with their custom of releasing whom they would, on this occasion, either a notorious robber, or this man in whose mouth was found no guile. Many, at the present day, are not as inquisitive as the Roman Governor, while many others may ask, “What is truth?” but are no more anxious for an answer than he, having, like him, some friend to gain, or retain, and fearing the consequences of losing such, never wait for, nor seek an answer at all. But there are a few who not only ask the question, but are intent on an answer; and should one be given that cuts off the friendship of Caesar, or the severing of long-cherished idols, and strong but pernicious habits, they wait not to dally with duty, but yield to the requirement, “If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.” If Pilate cared not for an answer to so important a question, it need not hinder us from learning what is truth. “Search the Scriptures,” and there, in words clear and legible to every unbiased mind, we may read, “Sanctify them through thy truth, thy word is truth.” Again, we read, “If ye continue in My word, then are ye my disciples indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” John 8: 31, 32. But many, like the Jews of old, will be ready to say, “We were never in bondage to any man.” They fail to see their subjection to evil habits, fashion’s freaks, and public opinion. But let them fully understand the claims of God’s word upon them, and choose “the way, the truth, and the life,” and indeed become disciples of Christ, and they will see the necessity of becoming free from these their masters; and the promise is, they shall be free. Egyptian bondage is a fit comparison to the servitude that man is under, who is the slave to any evil habit. There is nothing like the truth that will set him completely free from its power. Such can answer the question that Pilate asked, and testify also to the sanctifying power of the word in reclaiming them from darkness to light, from the service of Satan to the liberty of the sons of God. In Isaiah 28:20, we find this language: “For the bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it, and the covering narrower than that he can wrap himself in it.” This language is a most fit description of the errors of modern orthodoxy; for when they pull their scanty covering of evidence over one error, they invariably expose another. Thus the Pedobaptists, in their efforts to defend the doctrine of infant baptism, make the following statement:— “If children are not to be baptized because there is no positive command for it, for the same reason we should not keep the first day of the week.” Here, in attempting to pull the covering over the unscriptural dogma of infant baptism, they expose the barrenness of their evidence for the equally unscriptural doctrine of Sunday-keeping, admitting that there is no commandment for it. Christ Crucified for Them
MEN would rather hear of Christ crucified for them, than be crucified for Christ. I am sick of this cant and twaddle, for I can call it by no better name. It is all nonsense—no girl need throw herself away. Couldn't support herself! And so she married that man with no moral stamina, no more fit for her to mate with, than an eagle is to mate with a crow! “Why, what could she do? She couldn’t teach—she had no gift in the way of business. She had to marry.” “Do,” said I, “why she could do housework?” “Do housework!” My companion lifted her hands in horror and amazement. “Do housework! Who would recognize her, and then she is not able to do housework.” “Is there caste in this land? I would recognize her none the less because she made my bread and washed my dishes. Not able to do housework! What has she taken upon her but housework? Will not the vows of wifehood and the care she has assumed be housework? Working out, as you term it, would be nothing to the responsibility she has taken.” “Oh, well, the world does not look at it in this light.” “Does that make the work any easier? I fail to see the point.” “You always do put things so queerly. I for one would do just as Emma Haze did, if I were situated in the same manner.” Would you, reader? The circumstances were these: Emma Haze was an orphan. She had a home at an uncle’s, if such a place can be called home. She was tolerated there because she was a brother’s child. She worked for her board and was grudgingly allowed the clothes she needed. Although her education was good, she had no tact for teaching. She had no taste for business, as has been already said. Her forte was doing housework, but rather than support herself in that way—for fear of what Mrs. Grundy and her train of followers would say—she married a man who had no mind, no principle, no education, but a little money. Would you have done it? I put the question to each girl who reads this—would you have done it? If you would, then you are—must I say it?—a coward. And now I want to preach a sermon to every girl in this land. Perhaps there will be nothing beautiful in it, nor any poetry, but it will have this merit, there will be truth in it. This is the text: “Girls, your life will be just what you make it.” Nothing is lowering to your dignity, if you do not let it lower your dignity. Keep in the path of virtue and you are in the right. It is no worse for you to go into the kitchen of another, and do the work, and be paid twenty shillings a week for it, than it is for you to marry and do the same work, and get nothing for it but what you eat and the clothes you wear. I went in search of a servant last summer. For seven long weeks I searched sorrowing. One pretty looking girl told me that if I only lived in the town, instead of the country, she would help me, but she was afraid that she would soil her complexion, and then country work was such dirty work. Yet her father was a drunkard, and her mother earned their daily bread by going out at day’s work, scrubbing, washing, and the like. And there the daughter was content to sit with folded hands, waiting, hoping that some one would come and marry her. “But,” says one, “I don’t want to think that I must work out all my life, for a living.” You need not, but you will need courage, perseverance, and a will to do. Let me tell you a story. Mary Barnum and her brother were left orphans. She was sixteen, he fourteen. The father had been a shiftless, inefficient sort of man, and had laid up nothing for the future, so they were obliged to support themselves. Fortunately for her, she knew how to do housework, and any one who secured Mary, secured a treasure. So she went to work. She sent her brother to school. At the age of sixteen he went to learn a trade. Soon after she came to me. “I am tired of doing housework, tired of scouring knives and cooking dinners, and now I am going to school,” she said. “Going to school! What are you going to live upon?” And she did. She worked at one place for a year. She earned twenty shillings per week. She spent fifty cents a week, so that at the end of the year she had one hundred and four dollars. Now she was ready to start for school. She selected the best school in the State—the State Normal. She rented a room for fifty cents a week. The school term for the year is forty weeks. Twenty dollars of her money was gone. Some few friends seeing that she was determined to go to school, furnished her room very plainly and cheaply. She then resolved to live on one dollar a week; this necessitated the strictest economy. Thus sixty dollars of her money was spent. That left her but forty-four dollars with which to pay her tuition, buy her books, and get the needfuls. To be sure she was not noted for the number of her dresses, nor was her hair frizzled and puffed in just the latest style, nor did she appear at every social; but one thing she was noted for, perfect lessons. She gave such attention to her studies that at the end of the year her scholarship was such that she received a training certificate, entitling her to teach without a public examination. Whatever she undertook she did well. Her motto was, “Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing well.” The next two years she taught, receiving four hundred dollars per year. At the end of the two years she managed to save four hundred dollars to send her to school the remaining two years. With the utmost economy it served her purpose. She had so little left that she had not enough to buy a new dress in which to graduate. But when the bouquet was thrown her at the close of reading her essay, I hardly think she thought as to whether her dress was new or not. Afterward I heard the Governor and the State Superintendent congratulating her. The next year she was offered an excellent situation in one of our union schools. But her health having failed somewhat during the last term she was in school, she went out doing housework, instead of accepting the position. Did it degrade her any? No; she did her work just as faithfully as if it were the chosen business of her life. At the end of six months, her health being established, she commenced teaching. She was a successful teacher. Where is she to-day? The wife of an eminent professor in one of our Western colleges. I know another lady who borrowed the money to carry her through school, and paid it after she commenced teaching. To-day she is one of our successful writers. Another who had no means of her own, had a brother who was a farmer. He had not much ready cash, but he gave her enough provisions from his farm for herself and a little girl boarder. For the board of the little girl she received five dollars per week. That five dollars per week carried her through school. After graduating, she taught. Her health failed, and the physician advised her to give up teaching and go to doing housework. Fortunately for her, she knew how to do housework. She had a piano, and was very fond of music. So her next thought was, could she not find some place where she could earn her board and a little more, and take music lessons? She went here and there to find such a place. She succeeded at last, and was offered one dollar a week. She accepted the situation, and did her work so faithfully and well, that the lady of the house paid her two dollars instead of one. She told her she earned it. Was not that better than to have sat down and folded her hands, and bemoaned her fate? At the end of the year her health was established, and to her other attainments, she had added that of music. Do you think she lost one womanly grace during the year she did housework? Far from it. She had gained in many things that make the true woman, and to-day few are her equals. Girls, you need not say, “mother was to blame; she never taught me to work.” Put your mind to it, and your heart in it, and in a year’s time you will be mistress of housework. Mary Mead was left penniless; she was then seventeen. A few days after the death of her parents she came to me. “What shall I do,” she said. “I absolutely know nothing which will enable me to take care of myself.” And it was so. She could sing a little, play a little, and paint a little. Her mother had done all the work, just as a good many other mothers are now doing, and left Mary to romp and play, and have a good time generally. “What shall I do?” said she, bursting into sobs. “If I knew of any one who would teach me housework, I would work one year for my board.” I told her I would find her such a place, and did so, and so thoroughly and well did she learn, that at the close of the year, the lady of the house was glad to keep her and give her wages. She stayed six years. At the end of that time, the son, a noble, young man, who had just entered into business with his father, astonished his mother one morning by saying: “I am going to ask Mary Mead to be my wife. Mother,” said he, “not a word. Do not say anything you will wish unsaid. If I mistake not, Mary will be just as astonished as you are.” And Mary was. But why should she have been? She had a good deal of leisure, and she had improved that leisure. Sometimes she read, sometimes she played, sometimes she painted. The lady of the house had seen that she was lady-like and reserved, and had given her access to the library and piano at proper times—privileges which are not usually given to servants; nor do they usually deserve them, if they know what to do with them. She never intruded, but made the most of her privileges. She had saved her money, and when they were married—for married they were—she had enough to plainly furnish their home, and over it she presided with grace and dignity. Now I would not have you girls go out doing housework for the sake of getting a husband, for you might fail if that were your intention, but I would have you all remember, your life will be just what you make it. Two centuries ago it was thought an insult to the Highlands to ask a note from a debtor. It was considered the same thing as saying, “I doubt your honor.” If parties had business matters to transact, they stepped into the air, fixed their eyes upon the heavens, and each repeated his obligation with no mortal witness. A mark was then carved upon some rock or tree near by, as a remembrance of the compact. Such a thing as a breach of contract was rarely met with, so highly did the people regard their honor. When the march of improvement brought the new mode of doing business they were often pained by these innovations. An anecdote is handed down of a farmer who had been to the Lowlands and learned worldly wisdom. On returning to his native parish he had need of a sum of money, and made bold to ask from a gentleman of means, named Stewart. This was kindly granted, and Mr. S. counted out the gold. This done, the farmer wrote a receipt and offered it to Mr. S. “What is this, man,” cried Mr. S., eyeing the slip of paper. “It is a receipt, sir, binding me to give ye back yer gold at the right time,” replied Sandy. “Binding ye? Well,95 my man, if ye canna trust yersel’ I’m sure I’ll no trust ye. Ye canna hae my gold.” And gathering it up, he put it back in his desk and turned his key upon it. “But, sir, I might die,” replied the canny Scotchman, bringing up an argument in favor of his new wisdom, “and perhaps my sons might refuse ye; but the bit of paper would compel them.” “Compel them to sustain a dead father’s honor,” cried the Celt. “They’ll need compelling to do right if this is the road ye’re leading them. I’ll neither trust you nor them. Ye can gang elsewhere for money; but you’ll find none in the parish that’ll put more faith in a bit o’ paper than in a neighbor’s word o’ honor, and his fear o’ God.” This life is not all sunshine,
Nor is it yet all showers,
But storms and calms alternate,
As thorns among the flowers.
And while we seek the roses,
The thorns full oft we scan,
Still let us, though they wound us,
Be happy as we can. This life has heavy crosses
As well as joys to share,
And griefs and disappointments
Which you and I must bear.
Yet, if misfortune's lava
Entombs hope's dearest plan,
Let us with what is left us,
Be happy as we can. The sum of our enjoyment
Is made of little things,
As oft the broadest rivers
Are formed from smallest springs.
By treasuring small waters
The rivers reach their span;
So we increase our pleasures,
Enjoying what we can. There may be burning deserts
Through which our feet must go,
But there are green oases
Where pleasant palm-trees grow.
And if we may not follow
The path our hearts would plan,
Let us make all around us
As happy as we can. Perchance, we may not climb with
Ambition to its goal,
Still let us answer, “Present,”
When duty calls the roll!
And whatever our appointment,
Be nothing less than man,
And cheerful in submission,
Be happy as we can. You Cannot Pass This Way Again.
BREAKFAST was not quite ready, and while waiting, Mary took up a paper for a minute, and her eyes fell upon these words: “A good Quaker was wont to say, ‘I expect to pass this world but once. If, therefore, there be any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do, to my fellow beings, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.’” Mary read the paragraph twice over, and it made a deep impression on her heart. She took her seat at the table, thoughtfully; and she wondered, as she glanced up at the already wearied face of her mother, whether she had not let many golden opportunities slip never to return. She could not go that way again. But here was a long, bright holiday she had proposed to spend in self-amusement. Indeed, she had kept herself awake an hour or more in planning the day’s enjoyment, intending to fill it as full as she could. Now these words, “I shall not pass this way again,” haunted her mind, and awakened quite a new train of thought. What if that mother’s cheek should grow paler and paler, her cough deeper, and her thin hands be finally folded away forever on her silent heart? The thought was startling and terrible. Oh, what bitterness of regret she would feel that she had lightened her burdens so little! For this day, at least, she would do what she could. “Mother,” she said, when breakfast was over, “you have been looking for a spare day to run over to Grafton, to see aunt Mabel, and now is your chance, I mean to take the helm to-day,” she continued pleasantly. “Not to-day, Mary, of all days, when there is so much work to be done.” “Yes, mother, that is just the day. I have nothing else to do but to take your place. You shall see to-night how well I have filled it.” Mary’s persuasions prevailed, and the mother spent a long, bright summer day visiting with a beloved invalid sister, to whom her visit was indeed a joyful surprise. It “did good like a medicine,” to both mother and sister, while the gain to Mary herself was a hundred-fold greater.—The Child’s World. —Dr. Dio Lewis is making San Francisco his headquarters, answering to calls to deliver lectures. —The Prince of Wales will be the ornamental head of the British Department at the Paris Exhibition. —The Atlantic and Pacific Telegraph Company has contracted with Roebling Sons for 22,000 miles of new wire for additional lines. —There are 13 teachers in the State Normal School, San Jose, with 395 scholars in the school proper, and 100 in the training department. —Congress has passed a bill appropriating $250,000 for the purpose of furnishing a building for a national museum, of which the Philadelphia exhibits are to form a nucleus. —A News special from Pesth reports that according to the official statement of the Servian War Minister the Servians lost 8,000 killed and 20,000 wounded during the late war. —The Aldermen of New York have adopted a resolution asking the Legislature to pass a bill appropriating $1,000,000 for the repairing of the lower streets of the city, to provide employment for destitute laborers. —A wealthy man, who lately died in the Province of Quebec, gave by his will a little over two hundred thousand dollars to the State of Vermont, to be applied to the improvement of its system of common schools. —Colorado, the youngest of the States, contains more than double the number of square miles of New York, and Texas is more than twice as large as Colorado. The figures are: New York, 47,000 square miles; Colorado, 105,000; Texas, 247,000. —A Chinese banquet was given in Pittsburgh, Monday, Feb. 12, the first day of the Chinese year, at which not less than one hundred American guests were present. It is described in the Pittsburgh Gazette as having been a very interesting occasion. The hundredth psalm was sung by two young Chinamen, also the twenty-third which was sung both in Chinese and English. The 23rd of March is the day fixed by the Second District Court of Utah for the execution of John D. Lee, the famous leader of the Mormons who murdered a party of emigrants at Mountain Meadows on the 16th of September, 1857, nearly twenty years ago. It is thought that when the contents of Lee's statement are made public the world will only begin to know the numerous murders which have been committed in Utah by the Mormons. “The public-spirited Philadelphians did a very proper and handsome thing,” says the Christian at Work, “in presenting Mr. John Walsh with $50,000, as a token of their appreciation of his services in organizing and conducting the Centennial. But it was a much finer thing on his part to use the money to found a Professorship in the venerable University of Pennsylvania. That is the most enduring and most serviceable monument which a rich man can rear to his memory. A marble shaft is a cold and mocking memorial in comparison with a bread-fruit tree which drops its life-sustaining bounty for the benefit of those who need it.” —Real cannibals have been discovered by missionaries on the islands of New Britain and New Ireland, off the north-east coast of New Guinea. These natives are nude savages of the Oriental negro type, who live more like beasts than human beings. The Rev. George Brown, a Wesleyan missionary, reports that he saw women roasting the leg and thigh of a man who had been killed in a fight. In another hut smoke-dried human flesh was hanging. In another he counted thirty-five jaw bones of men and women. Cannibalism seemed to be common throughout the islands, not as a religious rite, but as an ordinary means of subsistence.—Religious Intelligencer. —Private advices from Mexico are to the effect that the country willingly recognizes Diaz as President. He is now firmly enthroned, and can only be removed by another revolution. The people have had enough of revolution and bloodshed in the past twelve months, so that the present President is certain to remain where he is for some time. The dethroned President Lerdo has retired to private life, making New York city his home for the present. He says that he has no desire to renew the conflict, and that he will never accept the Presidency without the full and free consent of the Mexican people. Yglesias, however, will do all he can to advance his claims to the executive chair. —News is brought from Hawaii, one of the Sandwich Islands, of the eruption of Mauna Loa, and a submarine outbreak in Kealakeakua bay. The eruption commenced between nine and ten o'clock Wednesday evening, March 14, when the flames suddenly burst from the mountain and formed a magnificent column of fire to the height of 16,000 feet above the summit. About a mile from the shore jets of red, green, and yellow fire leaped from the water which is boiling and whistling like an immense cauldron. Thousands of fish literally cooked are seen floating upon the water, also large quantities of lava thrown up from beneath. So far as known, no damage has yet been done. The present remarkable eruption is the eleventh recorded disturbance on the islands since 1789. RELIGIOUS NEWS AND NOTES.
—The revival in Boston is progressing to the full satisfaction of the evangelists and pastors of that city. The Tabernacle is crowded two or three times each day, and the inquiry-rooms are filled. —There are 1,062 Jesuits in the United States and Canada. Besides the University of St. Louis, which is in their hands, they have seventeen establishments for education, mostly for superior instruction. —While there are in New York city, 489 churches, chapels, and missions, 418 Sunday schools, and five hundred day schools in the interest of intelligence, morality and religion, there is an opposing force of 8,403 liquor saloons, with numerous evil accessories, corrupting the innocent, destroying the ignorant, and ruining the bodies and souls of men. —Cardinal Antonelli’s will contained in its preamble the following sentence: “Before everything else, I recommend my poor soul to the infinite mercy of God, trusting that through the intercession of the most holy immaculate Mary, and of my patron saints, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. James, and St. Louis, He may grant me remission of my sins, and make me worthy of the eternal glory of Paradise.” The cardinal, who, next to the Pope, was the highest Catholic ecclesiastic, makes no mention at all of Jesus Christ, of whom the apostle Peter once said, “Neither is there salvation in any other; for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.”—Chris. Herald. —Efforts have been made to ascertain the proportion of children in Sunday-schools to the whole number of children in the country of school age. The census of 1870 puts the number of children in the States and Territories, between five and eighteen years at 12,055,443, while the Sunday-school scholars in forty-seven States and Territories number 5,790,700. Some of these are no doubt under five years and others over eighteen years. There are in the whole country 69,871 Sunday-schools and 753,060 officers and teachers. These statistics do not, however, include Catholic schools. Estimating liberally for these, it appears that not more than fifty per cent of the children of school age in the United States receive Sunday-school instruction. DIED, at her home near Grangville, Tulare Co., Cal., March 2, 1877, in the 68th year of her age, Roxelana L. Lewis, wife of Mr. M. Lewis formerly of Tafton, Wis. Sister L. embraced Christianity at the age of nine years, and for 59 years has lived a life devoted to that cause. About ten years ago, under the labor of Eld. Sanborn, she embraced the truths held dear by Seventh-day Adventists, and remained firm, although not associated with any of like faith. Among her last words were these: “We shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air; and so shall we ever be with the Lord.” She leaves a husband, children and grandchildren who deeply mourn their loss. DIED, of quick consumption, in Tekamah, Neb., Feb. 27, 1877, Annie E. Whittaker, aged 14 years, 5 months and 8 days. In her dying hour she gave such advice and testimony as will always cheer the hearts of those left behind to press forward and “never give up.” She was a strict observer of the Sabbath, and died in full hope of a resurrection with the just. Funeral sermon by Rev. Wm. Olinger (Methodist) from Mark 5:39, last clause, “The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth.” The Laws of Nature.
By R. F. C.
WHEN we speak of the laws of nature, we mean those laws which God the Creator of all things—of universal nature, has established for the maintenance and guidance of all things. We do not deify nature, esteeming it like the god of him who thinks all things came into existence by chance. We worship no such blind god. But God is the Author of nature; therefore nature’s laws are the laws established by God. These laws have no variations. They know no exceptions. Their violation by animated beings have certain consequences, which we call penalties. And these penalties are sure to follow the violations of nature’s laws. Nature grants no indulgences to sin, yet she is kind. Though the violations of her laws must bring death, yet warnings are given the offender to leave the ways of sin, and thus be saved from death. Pain and sickness are kind admonitions, warning of the consequences which must follow. If these are heeded, life may be prolonged by a return to the obedience of the laws that have been violated. But if sin is persisted in, it will be found, as in the case of violated moral law, that “sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.” Indeed, it is very clear that the Author of physical law is the Author of moral law. And he is kind. He does not delight in the death of him who dies, but rather that he would turn and live. Let the sick take courage, then, for though much has been lost by disobedience, yet there is a law of our being by which injuries are, measurably, at least, repaired. This law of recuperation or healing is within ourselves. It is not imported from foreign countries or brought from afar. If we cease to abuse our physical nature, and live agreeably to the laws of health, nature will do all that can be done, without a miracle, for our restoration. “Cease to do evil, and learn to do well.” Turn from sin and do that which is “lawful and right.” This is the law of nature, as well as the law of grace. Here is the only hope of the transgressor. No amount of drugging and doctoring can take the place of obedience. Nothing can supersede this necessity. Therefore the doctor that promises you a cure, without a change of diet and habits, is as false as the priest that promises you pardon with an indulgence still to go on in sin. Oh, how much we all have lost by disobedience! But, thank God! much may be hoped for by a return to obedience to violated law.