Autumn Leaves - Volume 1 (1888)

EZzjah Banta.

www.LatterDayTruth.org

VOL. I. LAMONI, IOWA, NOVEMBER, 1888. No.n.

HOME CONVERSATIONS.

BY DEOINDA AND TUBAL ~nLKINS.

CHAPTER I.

I WAS busy preparing supper, and was all alone. Tilly Jane was visiting at

neighbor Jendors; and Unit, he was at his father's shop.

1 was expecting when my husband, Tubal, should arrive he might be burdened with some religious thought-it was peculiar to him-and would be nothing new; for he is religiously inclined, and I am pleased he should be.

An air of solemnity always attached to his conversations. I presume that is as it should be, although I am more inclined to cheerfulness. Directly I heard his footsteps, then the door opened and he entered with a smile upon his oountenance. Unit accompanied him, and looked good and earnest, as I've always taught him to be.

"Well, Decinda," said Tubal, "I've had a big time to-day. You see, old man J endol'S was in the shop, and we had our usual talk on matters of religion, .and some side issues as well. He says there are more worlds than this one, and that they revolve in space, and have folk on them."

"I don't see anything strange about that," said I; "there surely are more worlds than this, and more peoples than what inhabit this lone world."

"But I can't see it in that way," said my husband, Tubal; "if there are more worlds than this, and they have folk, how could the atonement of Jesus effect them; for we read that 'Christ died for the sins of the world;' you see, Decinda, it reads, 'world,' not worlds. And again, Paul said: 'As in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive.'"

"Precisely," said I; "it reads 'world,'

in the singular number; but Tubal, when we leave this world and its effects-all it now possesses-and soar higb on the wings of our l:mfJyination, we are very liable to get lost in the mists of ambient air. And you should know, Tubal, that 'castles in the air' are not enduring habitations!"

I emphasized these latter words. Tubal looked at me somewhat surprised.

"Decinda," said be, "I am shocked at your sacreligious form of speech! You are guilty of slurring the words of Jesus about 'many mansions in the sky.' There is no such thing as 'mists of ambulant air,' only on foggy mornings. You seem to side right in with old man Jendors, and fairly assume to teach your husband!"

Tubal spoke this sentence sternly, punctuating it with heel periods, fist comma's, etc.

"I tell you, Decinda," continued Tubal, "we must be careful about our idees; we have to guard so closely against heresy! and you know old man J endors ain't any too smart; his views are terrible distorted ones, and never can be made to hitch on to gospel truth. Moreover, it ain't imagining, to say that the atonement, can't reach other worlds. Look at the number of Christ's it would take, the lots of sacrifices, the stacks of wood for crosses; for I reckon there would be three on every world-two thieves with every Jesus! I tell you, Decinda Milkins, such speeches as old man Jendors' is wild! fairly wild! I was horrorfied at his absurdity! I was shocked at his monstrous opinion. It conflicts with reason, science, and the Bible. We folk must be keerful, Decinda."

"How can they," said I, "conflict? Supposing the Bible does not speak of other


482 ROME CONVERSATIONS.

'worlds than this-and yet I believe it does. When Jesus said: 'In my Father's house are many mansions,' I believe it meant something grand. But, supper is ready, and we hacl best partake ere the food becomes unsavory; we can have an ev~ning's chat after meal."

Tubal was willing; so we sat at table, Unit saying grace. \Vhilst eating, Tilly Jane came home from Mr. Jendors-. .they having had an early tea. Supper over, and all things put to rights, we were seated about the fire-place and I proceeded:

"Yes, 'rubal, I believe .J esus meant something grand. That word 'mansions' had reference to worlds. Paul speaks of 'glory of the sun, the glory of the moon,' etc., one degree of glory to a world. The atonement of Jesus effects these w;orlcls only as it has, or shall have, effected the inhabitants of this world, who, in the future, shall become inhabitants of these 'mansions.' If this world is to be eelestialjzed, and (as we know) all its inhabitants have not obeyed a 'celestial law,' there must of necessity be some other worlds for them to ahide upon, places of lesser glories. And as multitudes of peoples are seen to exist only upon a sphere known as a world, of course these folk of lower lives must exist upon worlds of lower laws. Paul speaks of three glories. It is not for us to delve too deeply, I am aware; notwithstanding Paul wrote of 'the Spirit searching all things, yea the deep things of God;' and he said God's people should have that same Holy Spirit to be with them. But we should be careful to know that God's Spirit is with us, lest in our delving we arrive at false conclusions, and found fine-spun theories upon false premises. I believe we should be broad in our views, husband, but there is no call for extravaga.nt expression. There is danger also in 'one being too narrow in tbeir views upon any subject."

"Father," interposed Unit, "may I venture to ask of you a question?"

"Certainly," said my husband. "Do you really think one world of the

dimensions we have of this one, is all the world in space that may be inhabited? I ask for information, father, as I'm young and wish to learn."

This was quite a venture for Unit, for his father had been inclined to austerity with the children. Unit was now about seventeen and a half years old, and Tilly

Jane was in her fifteenth veal' last February---she is now a littl~ over sixteen. They are bright children, if I do say it. myself; are loving and true. My Tubal was prone to resent Unit's interference,. and reproved him for it; telling him he had no right to pnt in, when older folk were talkin'; and that "children should be seen, not heard." I have been of the opinion that Tubal's ancestry were of the old Puritan stoek, although I've never asked him, lest I should unwittingly offend him, for I love him. Tilly Jane, who is rather reserved and modest, ventured to ask her father a question at this, juncture of the conversation: "Father~ may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, rrilly Jane, proceed." "If there are no other worlds than this;.

if there are no suns but one; if there are· no moons but one; and no more stars than: what we can see, would such an idea be in keeping with the Sovereignty of God? 'When we think of him as an infinite, omnisoient Being, what would He do for all eternity governing one little world like this~only about twenty-five thousand miles in circumference? And not only so, father, but it seems so peculiar to me. if not otherwise."

"Tilly Jane, I am astounded at your venturesome talk," said Tubal; "an upstat·t like you to assume tbe~the teaching of your father! A man as old as I, to be taught by the likes of you! Your mother's home training is not what it should be. If you would only obey the gospel and have a little of God's Spirit in your heart, you'd know better how to conduct yourself; you and Unit would. Talk. about 'twentv-five thousand miles.' Y 011

are sacreligi~us, I declare. Twenty-five thousand miles in circumference! ,\Vho knows it? vVho ever went around it? I say its flat, flat as a pancake--only puffed up in the middle a little. Doesn't the Bible say: 'If man findeth the foundations of the earth, God would cast off .all Israel;' and doesn't Paul say: 'Yet all Israel shaH be saved?' That proves no one can find them; then' talk about its being round!"

"Tubal," said I, venturing now to take the children's part; "if the world be round, and revolve in space, how could its foundations be discovered-it having none to disoover? The language is poetic. Have you never read that 'the trees shall


ROME CONVERSATIONS. 483

clap their hands for joy,' yet who supposes trees to have actual hands?"

"That's so; Decinda, but you know I can't bear to hear religion made light of. It is so dear to my heart, and the Bible so precious!"

"Very tme, husband; but no one has been making sport of religion; furthermore, proper words from the children can work no harm. Youthful minds in a healthy condition are always active; and they will querie. You nor I can not prevent it; and the children are now attaining unto manhood and womanhood, and naturally enough tl1ey will ponder over things of religion amongst other questions of importance. The world is filled with mysteries, and overflowing with beauties. We owe it to ourse1 yes to make all the mental, intellectual progress we can, and should be doing ourselves an injustice to cultivate mcntal stagnation. I know Tubal, you will take this as no offense from a loving wife."

"Decinda, 1 am not offended, though I speak firmly; my views of matters are as broad as justice to religion allows of. You are aware that the enemy tries to make some folk think they are fearful smart, when they're not; and I don't like to see folk make fools of themselves when there's no need on't. You know Jesus said: 'Narrow is the way;' and very broad idee's might overlap, and we'd find ourselves on the outside. You can't be too keerful, Decinda."

"Yes, Tubal, Jesus said all that, and more as well. While the 'way of life' is 'narrow,' yet He who is the al~thor thereof is Master of the Universe. Infinitv fills immensity with the vast innumerables of His works. God's ideas are boundless as are His works; and we who profess the gospel should be as far-reaching in our thought as God has given us power to cultivate. We trace the penciling of His wonders in the flowers; we discover of His mysteries in their fragrance; we follow the wending of his footsteps amid the caverns of earth; we find the chiseling of His handiwork in the mountain's canyon; and we behold the beauties of His .power in the twinkling, laughing stars of night! We witness His majestic splendor in the flaming sun, and note His calm mercy in the mellow moonlight."

"Decinda I can not endure this;" said Tubal, who had been pacing to and fro in

the room while I was talking. He was uneasy, and I could well observe his manner indicated an angry mood.

"It is not for ~I)omen to assume such oratorical effect as this, and with their finespun talk lure the soul of man in many a wile of the devil. You know woman ~as the introducer of evil into this world, and the seducer of man~leacling him into sensuous ways of serpentine life. 'Voman have always been the leader in petty difficulties, and has been under the bane of God, so much so that Paul said: 'If faithful, God might spare them in childbirth.'"

The children did not heal' this last speech of their father, they having retired at the conclusion of my previous talk. I bear with him patiently, for there are. quite a goodly number of traits about Tubal; redeemiug to an ex-tent.· I noticed that he was upset, for he and Mr. Jendors do not harmonize any more than a saw-horse and timing fork; and I don't presume we should if it weren't for the view I take of the gospel spirit. I didn't say much about his last speech, only this:

"Tubal, you may think as you wish about such things; but you should remember that many millions of mothers had been spared by some one's providential care before the apostle's day, or else nature, and obedience to physical laws elid it. I would bv no means reflect on Paul's writings or hi~ opinions; but I'm not one of that set that's going to have all my thinking done for me by somebody else. God has given me a mind as well as He gave Paul one; and we ,vomen think considerable too. 1Vhy, Tubal, I've known some men that didn't know enough to eat right. Paul didn't live in like ours, and not only so, but we are not informed as to the surrounding circumstances calling forth such worc1s. :Moreover, those people had been under Itllcient and heathenish customs, and sometimes Paul was rigid, when otherwise he would not have been. Yes, and woman partook of the 'forbidden fruit.' But I admire her good sense. It showed she was possessed of a progressive spirit, and the power for mental and intellectual achievements. To "know good from evil" is no small matter, and some folk don't know it yet! If there was anything to be gained by it, Eve was in for the gaining. If there would be


484 HOME CONVERSATIONS.

some grand work developed by the knowledge, woman sought the development, and dared to find it ont-risking all the results. Man walked around the garden apparently self-satisfied, until the woman was introduced, and then progress commenced."

"Vi ell, didn't Adam eat too?" snapped Tubal.

"Certainly," said I, "hut the woman had to take the lead. Woman was possessed of a dauntless courage that nor eared for consequences. Daring to aet, she dared to abide the consequences of that act. Man's following was but a passive resignation to inevitable fate! Adam became the proud possessor of the titles of "father," "sire," "patriarch," "Ancient of Days," etc., all by a brave woma,n's single act of daring achievement!

hal Tubal, dear; think of Eden's flowers, fountains, sparkling springs, laughing brooklets, shaded lawns, swaying, weeping willows, stalwart oaks, stately pines, budding bushes, refreshing mists, stars of peering through the trembling foliage, and amid them all a lonely man doing nothing. 'But when woman came, with her came progress, work, thrift, life, power, honor, glory! became more of a man with Eve, than he could have been without her! JYlen, who are men t,o-day, have become so through the noble impulses of a good, true woman. I don't say this commend-

self, but from a sellse of duty toward my sex. I shall defend my· sex, husband Tubal, and that with becoming modesty, I hope. A certain wJliter says: 'The mill streams that turn the clappers of the world arise in ' Such was the case with the star of progress in Eden."

"'There were no mills in Eden," said· Tubal; "it a garden, and there were no 'clappers' there either."

"l[a, hal who said there were? I used the illustratively. Tubal, I wish to quote to you a few lines of an author; they contain such good sense, that I have pondered them over many a time; they are as follows:

'Lord! with care hast Thou begirt us

Parents nrst season us. Then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws. They send us bound To rules of reason.' "'Rules of reason.' Tubal, we are par

ents, and should well consider how we

'season' our children. I know Mr. Jendol'S' talk with you of to-day has had an unfavorable effect upon your mind, you have let yourself become unduly irritated; and then, you know, I presume, Mr .. Jendol'S has been an extensive reader, because his life's opportunities may have been good. Nevertheless, we are to learn all 'We can, and of which we may not have studied, of course we would not be prepared to grasp their meaning as readily as those who had."

"There you are, in with him, and running me down. Decinda, I fear you need more of God's grace to give you light upon these great questions. You are always quoting 'authors,' and you know Paul said: 'The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God;' and professing to be a child of I have no use for 'authors.' I want the word of God onlv."

Tubal placed considerable emphasis in this last speech. He has often told me he should preach the gospel. I admire his earnest ways, for he is honest..in them to be sure. My ideas of men for preachers are somewhat different from his I admit. Of course we all do not see the same things alike, and therefore I make .. allowance.

"Yes, Tubal dear, I always have earnestly desired both the passive gentleness of the Spirit, as well as its grand outburstings of firm, but persausive elo~ qnencel I have sought for its magnificent gnidanceinto all truth; I have sought for its winged power of lofty altitudes of divine scenes! I have sought for its soothing calm 'mid the storms of passionate wrath that sometimes well up in human souls strangely perplexed! I have sought for its peace to hrood o'er me like the spreading winds of a cooing dove, when in hours of trouble. I have prayed for its

when doubt has darkened my IJathway; and Tubal, my husbancl, I do not believe my seekings have been fruitless! ::\'lore worlds than one, or no; more suns than one, or no; more mo.ons than one, or no. Stars, by the countless millions, if need be; one fact remains, Tubal Milkins, my husband dear, and that is this:' You are the father of two children; you are also a professed Christian"-

"What of that?" interrupted my husband.

"There is much, Tubal; although I am


HOME CONVERSATIONS. 485

a woman, yet I feel· inclined to kindly state that we owe it to ourselves, our children and to God, to be as generously and liberally minded as possible, and to avoid expressions of views that seem to savor of too strong a prejudice. Tubal, I love you; we have lived together several years; you have a desire to be hospitable with your neighbors and friends; you are disposed to be benevolent where your means allow you; you have kept vigil with the sick and dying. The children are young and anxious to learn; they naturally are inquisitive, and we should strive to avoid all austerity of manner, or idness iu our home ruling.

Think of Tilly Jane; she studies hard to learn, and is bright. Think of Unit, a boy verging on manhood, whose life is to be one of usefulness. He looks to you for the exemplification of manhood, as Tilly Jane does to her mother for womanhood's true sign. Human minds, sad to say, are often like unto wagon wheels; they wiggle into ruts and do naught else but revolve in monotonous clatter! Mind should rise above clatter, and make the smooth running sound of studious thought and word. 1 am fully persuaded that the gospel spirit is one of eternity'S, height, breadth, and length. It encompasses 'all truth,' embodies all fact, and embraces aU opportunities for progress and learning! And furthermore, it seems to me the Holy Spirit is gentle, rather than boisterously harsh; and people are evidently calm under its influence; and it is the dispenser of light and intelligence. But I have heard folk talk whose language and manner were not suggestive of the Holy Spirit's presence; and tIle scene was not very pleasant, Tubal."

"1 must say," observed my husband, "that you talk quite eloquently, too much preacher style about you, Decinda, I fear. You know Paul said: 'He allowed not a woman to teach nor usurp authority over the man,' and it sounds as though you were that way too much. Paul said 'the man was the head of the woman, as Christ is the head of the church,' and you should take admonition by this. I am the head of this house, this family; my words and opinions should be heeded as biblically authoritative, and no responses from woman. You know that to every 'body' there is a head and foot; the man is the head, hence you and

should know their place." these words calmly, but firm

don't doubt he meant them as Yon notice my husband clings to

Paul very closely; I admire the good apostle too, but I can not understand his writings as Tubal understands them. But I suppose it wouldn't be expected of a woman like me, that has considerable Of good natured vim in should. I had to notice this last of his, so I pro-ceeded thus:

"My dear husband, Tubal Milkins! can it be, a man of your profession in religion, a map of your biblical claims, a man of your holy aspirations, should look upon me, your wife and partner for life; me-Decinda JYIilkins, sh01:tld be considered by you as being your 'feet?' vVhere are your aduaZ feet generally found? Where do they sometimes go? They are beneath your body; they go in the mud, and dust, and dirt sometimes! I was not made to loll over the ground, and be placed beneath any man! I am calm, Tubal; but I stand upon the forcefulness, loftiness and sublimity of true womanhood, and respectfully' resent 'your pedal speech as a most ignominious conception of the words of a divinely inspired apostle! Tubal JYIilkins, if your idea of woman is such, remember that even then-man could not move as he ought; he could not maintain his erectness of stature without feet; neither can man maintain his uprightness, moral integrity, force of character; move socially, religiously, intellectually as he should without a true woman's unf~iling support! 'rubal, a writer named George Herbert wrote these words:

'In the husband w/.<dom. in the wife Shall Decincla note your wis

you may always have my gentleness, even as you always have had."

"'Tis late, Decinda, shall we retire?" "We shall, said I; and upon this word

we l'etire1 for the night. 1 expect we shall 'always have to "pull

through" at this poor dying rate. I can not comprehend why so many men entertain such ridiculous and peculiar ideas of women. But I guess it always has been so, and we poor creatures shall have to do the best we can; but I think when that is done we'll surprise the men-folk, and they'll wake up more dazed than was Rip Van Winkle!

To be continued.


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NOVEMBER GLUSTER OF MEMORY GEMS.

Man is not the creature but the architect of circumstances. It is chara,;ter which builds an existence out of circumstances. Our strength is measured by our plastic power; from the same mah'lrial one man builds anothel' hovels; bricks and mortar are bricks and mortar until the. architect can make something else.

Th'l S PEE C H IS S I L V E R N~S I LEN C E IS GOLDEN. F. prefer loss t.o for that. brings grief but once, this forever. S. I Envy is not a weakness, but it is a ignorance too. S. I Every man has a continent of undiscovered character. JYI. Character is higher than intelligence. Tu .. He who is most slow in . a promise is the most faithful in the per-

W. It is virtue, not ancestry, that makes men truly noble. i· formance of it.

Th. Sin, like an angel, does not become greater or smaller by being produced ad injiniturn.

F. Sum up at night what thou hast done by day. S. It is the duty of every citizen to raise his voice against injustice. S. Life is a wave which, in no two consecutive moments of its existence, IS

composed of the same particles. JYI. Very stubborn people are stubborn, not because they are but because

they are wrong. Tu. Everyone regards his duty as a troublesome master, from whom he would

be free. W. Reverence might be deemed at once a necessity, a duty, and a privilege. Th. Nothing can be so while we possess it, as it will seem when only

F. S. S. ~1. 'I'u. W. Th.

F. .s.

S.

M. Tu. W. 'I'l!. I F. I

Seek not for danger where there is no profit. I t is human to win honor; it is God-like to refuse reward. Life resembles a cup of clear water which becomes muddy as we drink it. Extremity is the trier of No heart'so fierce but knows some touch of pity. Confidence onee lost, it is Bot given to every man to regain. Error is sometimes sweet, but there is 110 anguish like an error of which

we feel ashamed. It is not possible to found a power upon injustice.

. Scandal is what one half of the world takes a pleasure in inventing, and the other half in believing.

God pardons like a mother who kisses -the offence into everlasting forget-fulness.

Our pleasures are in exact proportion to our duties. Let us be true; this is the highest maxim of art and of life. Duties are the education for eternity, which is endless duty. ~;!cp(:I'H,m()e is an open giver, but a stealthy thief. N0 possessions are good but by the good use we make of them.


SALVATION.

FOR AUTUMN LEAVES.

mHAT God intended from the begin.J 1 ' ning to save the human family, from Adam down to his latest descendant, and that he is working to that end there can be no doubt whatever; but in order for the acomplishment ofihis purpose of the Almighty, the mind of man must be in harmony with the divine will; for in no <other way can the immortality and eternal life of man be brought about. The apostle felt assured of this when he said, "This is life eternal, to know God, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent." In all the operations of nature it is known that God has always worked through what we call natural laws; and in the work of say-

souls he takes man as the instrument to accomplish his designs; giving also to man laws to govern his acts, that his obedience to those laws

up nearer His own

dispensation of time in which ;the has seen fit to reveal to man, we see man turning away from the messsage of mercy that has been sent

and ni"ocking the"messengers of God. this cause-man's unbelief-the

Lord did not permit Israel to entcr the JJ"JUJ.U'"'U land, but sufIered him for forty years to be a wanderer in a desert land, and die without the blessing intended for him.

Again, for his unbelief and rejection of the ::Messiah, we see Israel driven from the land of his birth, and his children scatter-ed among all· "and thus was in-flicted the doom the unbelieving .Jews invoked when cried out, "His blood be on us and on our children."

And yet, the arm of the Lord ilS streteh·ed out still, and He unto man another and a last time. His plan is formed, and to a few he entrusts a knowledge of His purposes; for He knows the weakness of the human heart; and He says to such "Occupy till I come."

So perfect is this plan or system in its working, that if any of the parts ineluded in its organization fail to perform their functions, the work immediately stops:

Such is the care manifested bv the Lord over this His chosen people, th;t He places officers over to see that nothing occurs to break the harmony existing between the members composing this body. All who enter into relation with God in this work are called to do a part, accord-ing to their to the work. Is there any such as standing still in the universe of The very face of nature pales at the

The church of God bears the same relation to its members that a mother does to her infant. From her it derives its existence and also its sustenance. Through the church its members derive their spiritual birth and blessings, coming from the head down to each member. Therefore if any member wrongs a brother, he the church. So we see that it is of each member to strengthen, support and comfort the church in every way possible.

Down in the depths of the tropic seas in silence, may be seen a class of workers that know not rest, but toil on from morn till eve and morn again. They their whole lives to their work, at the close their bodies become incorporated with the structure they erect. SO IH'''' '.'n!. is the bond of union between them that like David and Jonathan of old, in death tbeyare not separated. If all the members cOl'lstitnting the church of Christ would unite in building up His church as the coral insects unite, how short would be the time until He would come "to wed His read v bride."

As the life current within courses through the body, and takes up in its circuit the nutritive'particles to be used in building up the body and leaves the wornaut atoms to be removed to the surface; so in the gospel economy all who will work in the church for its advancement are continued 011, while those who will not, in time become dead, and will gradually be removed.

The .President of the United States before taking his seat as cbief magistrate takes the following oath, called the oath of office; "1 do solemnly swear that I will


488 THE POOR WIDOW'S OFFERING.

faithfully execute the office of president of the United States, and that I will to the best of my ability protect, preserve and defend the constitution of the United States." N ow, if every member of the church of God would pledge himself to the interests of the church as does this servant of the American people, that he would faithfully guard her, collectively and individually; and resolve himself into a committee of one to see that this meas-

ure be carried out; and inform himself of her history, that he might be prepared to defend her integrity against false charges that might be brought against her; and each one strengthen his brothel', and protect his illterests,-then that oneness would characterise the church of the latter day that did the church of Enoch.

Let love be the bond of that shall unite us as a people, then the work of God will hasten, and Zion arise in her beauty.

THE POOR \VIDOW'S OFFERING.

A TRUE STORY.

BY ELON.

"Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt :find it after many days."-l!}~. 11: 1.

1JS we have seen, when little Jack was / 1 about two years old he was put into the care of his grandmother, at the home of his birth. Perhaps a description of his grandmother may be interesting. At this time she was nearly eighty years of age, a large, muscular woman, straight and active. Above the average in intelligence, she did her own thinking. Was firm in her resolves, and resolute in her execution. She believed in, and tried to honor, God. Priestly domination had no terrors for her; she would speak out in meeting as as at home. She was kind and generous, and never turned any hungry from her door, unless satisfied they were impostors. She was strictly honest in her word and and despised a liar with all her heart. belonged to the English Episcopal Church, and considered that the on Iv church of God. Her

. charity for oth~r sects was small; but above all others she hated the Papists, 0'1.'

Roman Catholics. She was a constant reader of the Bible and Praver Book, revered the Sabbath and rarely ever mis-sed to church on Sunday though it was a away. She seemed to have no fear of anything beneath the skies. Her language was chaste, and her life in many respects a model. Her love was strong; but her hatred was deep when once incur-

red. She was honored by rich and poor. She learned from the Scriptures to read the signs of the times; and often told little Jack and his brother they were living near the end of the world; marking out some of the foreshadowing the same. She had a simple but firm trust in God. She considered him the only real physician of hody and spirit; hence in all her long life of ninety-four years, it is questionable if she ever called a doctor to her aid.

It was this grandmother that nursed little .Jack, from two years old until he was nine. For several years he was a cripple; but at nine he was a healthy lad; and his grandmother always acknowledged that God's blessing accomplished the work.

Jack had a natural love for books, but his grandmother'S lihrary was small. Books were scarce and very costly. Bibles and prayer-books were the staple articles. of Goblin's Pit; but the Clerk of the church, before referred to, had Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and the Holy wars. Pilgrim's Progress was a great favorite with little Jack, who many times fled from the "City of Destn;:ction" with "Christian," through the "Slough of Despond;" struggled with "Giant Despair'" in "Doubting Castle;" braved the "lion's" in the way, and finally knocked at the-


THE POOR WIDOW'S OFFERING. 489>

"beautiful gate" of the "Beautiful City." And it is possible these imaginary pilgrimages had something to do in forming Jack's character in after life. Jack had access also to 2Esop's Fables, which he often read with pleasure. In fact the Bible, Life of Christ, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and Fables may he trulv said~to have been foundation' of Jack"s moral being. He knew nothing of commentaries or creeds, except the Apostles' Creed and the Thirty-nine Articles, as found in the Episcopal prayer book. But these latter did not interest him. The Episcopalian service was too formal and tedious f6r his young mind. And when at about nine years of age he had to leave his grandmother's care and go out to work. and was thrown into other surroundings, 'and other influences were brought to bear upon his mind, he felt no regret at being free from the necessity of attending the Episcopalian church. In fact, although he had read the Bible much for his years, it had been as a means of amusement; and while he imbibed the spirit of reverence for it as being the word of God, such reverence was rather the result of his grandmother's teaching, than from any realization of the sacredness of its truths. His mind was not capable of discerning the intrinsic value and power of its truths.

He believed there was a God, for he had read of him in the Bible. and his grandmother had taught him that that book was true. His mother, too, had, during his brief and occasional visits to her, endeavored to instill into his mind the sacredness of that record as the word of God, and urged, upon him the of

a child of God; yet his conceptions of deity were necessarily vague. But having been taught to pray, he believed in prayer, and was simple enough to believe that God would answer his prayers.

I will give one instance of Jack's faith and the efficacy of prayer. When he was about eleven years of age and was engagat work on a farm for his food and clothing, the farmer sent him out to the grain fieMs, "bird tending," or keeping the birds from the ripening grain. For this purpose was armed with a clapper. This consisted of a piece of board about a foot long, dressed down at one end for a handle, while the upper end was left flat and abont five .inches wide. To this, as a center-piece, was fastened two other

short boards of the same width as the centerpiece, one on each side, with a wire running through serving as hinges to the outside boards. By taking hold of the handle and vigorously working the implement backwards and forwards in the air, it would make a loud clapping noise, and scare away the little feathered thieves which were rohhing the farmers of their grain. ,} ack's business was thus to go round the fields and protect the grain until it was ready for the harvest.

Jack had no idea of another harvest field that was fast ripening; nol' of the maraud-

thieves who night and day are trying to the ripening grain, and thus rob· the Lord of the great harvest fie ld-··w hichfield is the world-hut we must return to our story.

Jack was standing between a thick thorn hedge (which served as a fence) and the waving field of grain, and was using his clapper as vigorously as he could, when it flew out of his hand. insantly turned to pick it up, but could not see it. He hunted in the grass and weeds, in the wheat and in the thorn hedge; on.t could not find it. To Jack it seemed as if it was not anywhere around. His littleheart sank in despair. He knew that if he retul'l1ed to his master and told him he had lost the clapper, he would be charged with laziness, and severely reprimanded, if not whipped. The thought of God and prayer came to his mind, and the little childish heart thought \fod would help him find his clapper. Do I see a smile of contempt on the lips of some of my youthful readers. and on the faces of the "children of larger growth .?" Let me tell you,. Jack was in trouble and his earthly friends were few. He had often smarted under t,he tyrant's rod for some little childish wrong, and sometimes when there was no He dreaded to he again the victim. had read of God's care for the sparrows, of his the ravens when they cry. He had read that hlessed assurance to. souls: "\Vhat-soever shall ask of Father in my name, shall be given you." Jack's simple faith grasped the promise. He sought and found; for the very moment his eyes opened, as he ceased praying, he saw, through his hlinding tears, the clapper,. right in the densest part of the hedge. With one hound of joy it was in his haIlds~ and the fields rang with the joyous claps;


490 THE POOR WIDOW'S OF]'ERING.

from Jack's vigorous arm as he wielded the clapper aloft; and there was deep-seated ;gratitude in that little heart towards him who said, "Leave thy fatherless children to me," and who had declared himself -to be "a father to the fatherless, and a husband to the widow." From that hour God became a reality to Jack's mind; and he never doubted his willingness to hear the orphan's prayer. vVho knows but this was one of the mysterious ways of the Almighty in teaching Jack how near be is to all those who call upon him? I know it is a simple story, but its impres;sion never faded from Jack's mind; but grew deeper and deeper as the years passeel OIl. To others it might he myth; but to him it was a living reality.

One great, mistake of humanity lies in they overlook the small and simple

means which God employs to lead them to him, and thev wait to see some mighty, wonderful and terrible manifestation of his arm, that He is not always seen in the "great and strong wind," nor in the "mighty earthquake," ,nor yet in the consuming fire; but the gentle movements of his Spirit-the "still small voice" may more plainly reveal him. But poor Jack was not yet an nor even a saint; and while he never this evidence of divine 'care, he had not learned to consecrate his life to the service of his heavenly Father.

When Jack was about, or thirteen years old, his mother gave him of a as a means of support through life. chose the of a blacksmith. He was aecordingly hound as an apprentice until he should be twenty-one years old. to a woman who owned a blacksmith shoi). Her husband was dead, but she carried 011 the employing a fore~ man to oversee it for her.

With less pretentions to religion, this woman manifested far more h umani ty than some of Jack's former masters who made great pretence of piety. She never locked the pantry door against him, never stinted him in his food, nor gave him an inferior quality as others had done. She was not brq.tal to him, yet she tried to impress him with a sense of his inferiority to her ,children, because he was "only an apprentice boy_" '1'hi8 was too hard a lesson for ~ack; he never could learn it. He could learn to hammer and strike shoe horses, .and do all hard work, and even drudgery,

hut he could not learn that anybody was any better by nature than he wa,s. If they did better, he was willing to yield the palm, but on no other ground. Jack knew that his mother had paid down a hard ten pounds in for the privilege of his learning the trade, and he knew that all that he would get for eight years of hard labor (except learning t,he trade) was just his food, and shoes. His mother had to him his clothing out of her hard earnings. And since -he and his mother had to pay so for his learning, he could not see where superiority came in. In fact, without knowing anything about democracy, he was a born democrat_

Previous to his going to the blacksmithing, he had worked for his board and lodging, as errand and chore boy at different places. 'His employers had been professedly religions; but their conduct towards him had not impressed his with any lofty ideas of, or reverence for, their professions. He not believe that religion and brutality went hand in

His young mind became soured, and for awhile it seemed as he was to the and this wounded his heart. was not able to sift the chait from the and he be-came wayward. But his mother rememhered that she had given him to the

and in her closet she kept the child in remembrance before him; and she di,l not in vain, for there were times when a divine influence would seem to be near a stili small voice was and Christ to his soul, a· gentle and 11IlSeen hand .lO""uu),; him away from the haunts of sin, and from vicious company. The spirit of prayer would rest npon him at such times, and the divine words he had read in his g-l'andmother's Bible would come to his n~iIld ::md he would to be good and pure. But little Jack was weak, and his resolves often withered before the baleful influence of evil slll"l'onndings, as Jonah's gourd withered under the scorchil1g rays of a tropical sun. It must have been 11 mother's prayers that eventually prevailed with God to arrest his dawnward career; for the still small voice kept pleading with his soul, "Son, me thy heart."

In his new surrondings (the blacksmith shop), there were, in· some sense, new


UNDER THE LAMP-LIGHT. 491

influences to bear upon him. '1'here was not even an empty of found among the workmen; but they treated with contempt any semblance of piety. 'Their language was profane, their jests ribald utterances; they seemed to have no reverence for sacred things. The demon of drunkenness was the only deity kRew. But bad as little Jack was, he no relish for these evils. He had not been used to profanity; it always shocked him to hear it; and drunkenness he detested with aU his heart. But here he was, and here must remain for over long years; for he was

bonnd by the law to serve until he had attained his majority. There could be no bond of sympathy between him and his fellow-workmen. They might blow the coals in the same fire, and hammer at the same anvil; but there was no unity of spirit or purpose, no fellowship between them. Jack was as much alone, and 'without friends, as he had ever been. The world had no charms for him. It seemed to him as though life was not worth the living. Was it this lonely feeling, together with a mother's prayers, that led him nearer to his God?

'110 be c.olltinued.

"Each each week, each month, ea('ll year a new chance given you God. A new chance, a new leaf, a new life, is the golden, unspeakable gift which each new day offers to you."

MY YOOATIOX.

If I had the who rend "Our Youth" visi-bly before me in a great audience-room I should 'ask Cecilia to go to the organ and strike a cer-tain and then I would say, and all together, wit.h one heal'tand that dear old hymn,

charge to keep I

and when your sweet tones were the air with melody, and you came .to my favorite stanza,

liTo serve l/resent agel }Iy calling fulfill,

o may it all powers engage To do my J\Iaster's wilI)H

I think the tears would fill my eyes, and my whole heart would lose itself in prayer that everyone of us do just that.

Think of it, Rosa, lV["ggie, Theresa: all your powers in doing the Master's will! The whole of yourself an offering to bim! This is consecration, and you who are the daughters want to get farther than its alphabet. I am sure you would like to give the full service which delights in keeping noth-

back, letting all your life praise his name. A vocation and a calling are the same thing. They imply a place and a purpose, a sphere

and a definite preparation for filling it. A calling, dear girls, may be to the easel or the piano,

the queen's throne or the writer's desk, the teacher's chair or the dmwing-rooDl. One girl is called to the laboratory and another to the

Whatever our meretricious distinctions, all honest work well done is noble, and she who serves diligently in the kitchen is as much of as she who pictures or writes poems. The main thing is to be found faithful. Great mistakes are made here, The object should be clearly understood. Nobody should think that business or trade a vocation, which8he has chosen for any except the highest end. My should eall me so constantly and persistently that I could not bnt obey its summons. You remember the voices which haunted Joan of Arc as she went about her peaceful rural work; voices which never gave her rest until she rode at the head of the French army. In just that way the first young woman who dared to breast the tide of prejudice and study medicine was called to be a doctor, and she "made way for liberty," so that now nothing is more honorable than for women to be doctors.

My calling should not be chosen merely because it is one in which I can make money, or one in which I can up a Bocial prestige, or one which will afford me frequent holidays. There are hundreds of standing behind


492 UNDER THE LAMP-LIGHT.

counters who have no calling there whatever, but whose calling is rather to the womanly field of domestic helpfulness.

Grandly said old Socrates when urged not to go on in a certain course, which he felt to be his path of duty, because it was beset by dangers.

"You say not well, my friend, if you think that a man who is good for anything at all ought to take into account the chances of living or dying, and not rather when undertaking anything to consider only whether it be right or wrong, and whether the work of a good man or a bad man."

I want to make myself clearly understood about this point, for I believe that we all have a divine call to do something in the world, but that we are not all called to do the same thing. Do you remember, in Christiana and her Children, that when the little company of pilgrims were in the house of Mr. Interpreter he carried them to a garden and bade them look at the flowers there? Some were beautiful and stately and some were small and sweet; but, says Bunyan, "where the gardener puts them there they stand."

A girl has gone through a long course of study, passing from one grade to another, finally winning her diploma. She has grown fond of her books, of the atmosphere of study, and analyzing, and solving hard problems. Now she finds herself confronted with a harder problem than any she ever met in Euclid.

To what use shall her education be applied? If she is in society shall she be simply a gay girl, flying from one pleasure to another, or shall she find some work of charity which needs her light touch, some helpful endeavor which she can forward? What is her vocation here? If her mother is and overburdened, her voca-tion may be found in with the young~ er children or lightening mother's cares. But it may be that she has no special taste for society, and that her home .does not need her in the sense of needing another hand on anv of its machinery. Mother is quite able to c;rry on her own housekeeping, and prefers to do so.

I have seen girls drift into a perfectly aimless existence; playing the piano in a desultory way, idling over fancy-work, lounging in the morning with a story-book-the type, by the way, in my house of the most excessive indolence---doing not one single thing to make the people about them better or happier. Such girls v,ant

.shaking into energy. They should look about for a vocation.

It is every girl's duty to make herself completely the mistress of' some useful bread-winning art. The dnty of doing this is as impera-

tive upon the daughter of the millionaire as on' the child of the poorest laborer. The day may' come, you do not know how soon, when you will have to depend upon your own brain or hands, upon your own trained facility in some· direction for your support, and prudence dictates that you find out what you would like to do, and learn to do it well.

"How may I determine what my vocation shall be?" says Edith, pensiveh. "I have no· special aptitude for any accomplishment. r dislike practicing. My drawing was the despair of my teachers. I care for nothing like fancyworle"

I have always hopes of a girl who knows her limitations. A great deal is gained when one can say definitely, "There is this thing or theother that I can not do." Yon have narrowed the field so that you may begin to see what there is which yon can attempt with a reasonable' prospect of success.

In the times which your mothers recall there' were very few occupations open to a lady who· had to earn her own living. Teaching, sewing, and keeping a boarding-house were the three avocations which attracted reduced gentlewomen. We have made a decided advance in this direction,and now it is very commonly found that women, without losing caste, may do anything they please, so long as it is honest work well done.

r want to emphasize that, D)l' a girl should be above claiming any indulgence on account of her sex. If she undertake a business she should put all her strength, force, and talent into it; not slighting or slurring any part, but showing how thorough has been her discipline and how sensitjve is her conscience.

If the Lord has not endowed you with talents for the ornamental, then thank Him that you may learn to be useful. A girl who knows how to mend half-worn elothing-setting patches exquisitely, darning with smoothness and finish, renovating an old gown or cutting and making

it over for a child's a boon -to her own household. She saves a great many donars which may go for other uses; for adding to the beauty of the home, or sending bounty to the poor. Why should not such a extend h~r lines and do the mending of a half dozen families, receiving payment for her work? Another who has learned that daintiest of arts, lace-Iaundrying, "doing up" fine laces and ironing the pretty sheer baby garments which careful mothers hesitate to trust in the ordinary household wash to the rough usage of the ordinary wash woman, make a comfortable support by undertaking such work as this. A


OUR BOYS AND GIRLS. 493

girl who can make nice muffins or biscuits or good bread, might easily supply a dozen falnilies who would be glad to have their "light housekeeping" lightened yet more in this way.

There is no necessary contest between redecraft and hand-craft. Education ought never to unfit one for plain homely duties. If it does so it has been miseducation. Education should never make one a poorer, rather a better, more economical housekeeper, because it ,.'ill bring brains to the home management.

Education, dear should only increase your calling to be the natural helpers of all with whom you come in contact.

"Doe the next thynge" is a very s!tfe motto for anyone who is doubtful what course to take. 'The next thing may be very obscure; possibly only the reading a chapter to the grandmother whose eyes are growing dim, the telling a story ~to children in the hour before bed-time, the ,:metening of seams so they will not ravel. 'IVhat-

ever little thing it may be do it with all your heart, as unto the Lord, and it will be your vocation for the moment as trulv as if it were that which the world calls great ..

I never pass a group of girls without wondering what their lives are to be. Of one can predict more certainly-this one will follow in his father's steps and be an upright man of business; or t,hat thoughtful fellow will stndy medicine, or this one will be a clever lawyer. Girls are more puzzling. Few of them are set upon being something, as their brothers are. Yet girls have before them a mission ofloye, of comfort, of which the value can not be exaggerated.

Louise, .Mabel, \vhat is yonI' vocation? Have you thought about it? Have you begun to for it, and put yourself into training? D,) not let the hours. glide away unimproved. "The 1\1.a8te1' has come, and ca110th for thee," Do I hear yon each answer, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do 'I"

l'llargaret E. Sangster, in Our Youth.

OUR BOYS AND GIRLS.

BY WILLIAlIl STREET.

mHE .July number of AUTUMN LEAVES J l' has just come to hand, and it does not express all my joys and desires only when I say I am proud of its contents. "With the Chul'ch in an Early Day," "Incidents in the Life of One of Earth's Pilgrims,'l and "Leaves from Palestine," -are grand and instructive. Our boys and girls (I mean those who are young in the household of faith) have a great deal to be thankful for. And, I hope and trust they never will go away from home or do anything but what they will ask God's blessing on. If they will do this, the naIf of the battle will be won.

I am glad that the Lord is remembering Zion and caring for his people in the Holy Land.

,\Ve are living in a day and generation that demands us to be on our guard and "to be watchful and prayerful. The church could get along without me; but the question is, Could I get along without the church? K 0, indeed; I must get the iIope, Herald and AUTUMN LEAVES. I must try and be faithful.

"When will the nations be like the Bereans, and search the Holy Scriptures to find the truth; or like Lydia, open their hearts to it; or like the apostle Paul, be willing to learn it?

Observation confirms me that the most damaging influence to boys and girls at the day is a coaxing to do all kinds of evil, to lie, to cheat, to refrain from doing good; to ungovernable use of temper, &c. professional fruit grower knows that there are on all kinds of fruit trees two kinds of branches, one that comes from the heart of the tree and bears fruit, and another that comes from the bark and bears none. "I am the true vine, l:md my father is the hushandman," says the great teacher; and if the boys and girls want to live and bear fruit, let them abide in the vine.

No duty is harder at the present and none more generally ignored, than of controlling the temper. Sin in this line is so universal that it is clouding itself into suicide, murder, wrong-doing and divorce. Our responsibility is for the management


494 OUR BOYS AND GIRLS.

of temper; our fiullt is in the fa.ilure to manage it welL The trouble is that we do not perceive the magnitude and importance of this matter. Sins of temper are classed among minor offenses; and the persons who do not cheat, lie, steal or live riotously reproach themselves but in a mild form when they have snarled, growled or scolded. Under provocation, I know, it is hard to hold one's tongue; but the apostle James says, "If any man offend not in word the same is a perfect man, and able to bridle the whole body." Is it not beautiful for a mother or a father lmder the severe tests of life's duties, perhaps in spite of an aching head, or twingeing nerves, to remember to speak to the romping boy or girl a gentle reminder· instead of getting into an angry passion? Those who can do this possess a heroism worthy of a king

Boys and girls, the path of duty is the path of safety, and you can not abide in the path of duty without asking God's blessing and grace; and then the termination will be in your favor against the evil one. There are two courses open to you -virtue or vice. I hope and trust the inward monitor may guide you, and convince you of wrong doing, and that through all your trials and tribulations you will have the pleasure of putting your trust in God. Attend, if possible, all the means of grace. Pay attention to the word of God in the church books. Pray in secret, and your Father, who seeth in secret, shall reward you openly. Shun tobacco, and drinks that will intoxicate, as you would a viper. Be ye clean and pure. Zechariah in a vision saw the high-priestly representative of the nation standing before the Lord in "filthy garments," and heard the command to strip them off him, and clothe him in festival robes, in token that God had caused his iniquity to pass from him.

Stern November drives a-field, And his train-band bugles' call Sweeps the forest's hall; All his bannered hosts of air Charge across the meadow bare, HUngering in their angered mood Over many a barren rood.

JAMES RILEY,

Christ spoke of a ma,n at a wedding feast, without a garment; and of a prodigal who was stripped of his ragsstained with the filth of the swine trough, and clothed afterwards with the best 1'0 bes. St. Paul in his ringing exhortations, in many places sounds his notes lik& a morning bugle for Christ's soldiers g,nd followers to put off their night gear,-the works of darkness,-alld put on the armor of light that shines like the morning sunrise. Defilement is of the heart, and not of the hands, and yet what boy Or

girl would ever think of coming to the table to eat with dirty face and hands? :Men are diseased to the heart with sin, and thousands are ready to die and pass to the judgment; but it is only those who, are tired of sin, and those wh0 wish to continue in sin, and those who are busy with vain ceremonies and led away by false teachers.

and girls, obey your parents in all thing, for this is right. There is a commandment with a promise, and that is, those who honor their father and mother, God will prolong their lives here, and reward them hereafter. There are thous. ands or children growing np in this COllntry who, if a better spirit does not control them, will be soon ready to turn their pareuts out of doors. Pride is also working its way amongst the youths and maidens of our land, and its effects are damaging, in the extreme. In the city of Philadelphia you can pass thousands of women whose dresses al0ne 'have each cost twenty donars. And there are six hundred secret societies in the United States alone, ready to spoil the rising generation and work all kinds of evil under the disguise of, "Weare your friends; come and join us."

:May the blessing of God rest and abid.e with yon all is my prayer.

Who said November's face was grim 1 Who said her voice was harsh and sad l'

I heard her in wood-paths dim, I met her on the shore, so glad,

So smiling, I could kiss her feet 1 There never was a month so sweet.

LuCY LARCOM.


"LORD, WHA.T WILT THOU HAVE JHE DO?"

Dear Lord, what wilt Thou have me do? In this greRt vineyard is there work for me

Some task which I can better than another do-, Some service rendered to Thy cause me?

Dear Lord, what wilt Thon have me do? Fain would I linger in Thy pastures green,

And in the calm, still waters bathe my heated brow,

01' rest beneRth some sha,de tree's leafy sheen.

But Thou no idler in Thy vineyard wilt; Go work, the Master says, while it is called

to-dRY, For soon the shRdes of will 'round

thy patn, And darkness be about thy way.

Then, Lord, what wilt Thou have me do? My feet are weary and tJie way seems rough;

Still me strength to bear and do Until the Master says it is enough.

Then, oh! my Father, when this life oftoi! is o'er, May I but h€'lll' from Thee this kind behest:

Come in, my dRughter, to go out no more, Enter thy Father's rest.

Selected.

"OlJR FATHER IS ALWAYS RIGHT."

['1'he following little incident took pIRce on a lonely country road one day last summer. The night was coming on, when three little children were Seel} going alone down the road. On being asked if .they knew they were on the 9"ight Toad, the oldest one said: "Yes, we know where futher said he would be. He said take (his one, and fat.her is always right."]

"Our father is always right." What faith in the lisping child.

As she sturdily went on her chosen way Through the country road so wild!

Though the it was coming on Three children, all robed in white,

steadily down that lonely way "For jo;ther was always right!'

And when at their journey's end They met him with loving kiss,

What joy to that anxious father's heart, What a season of untold bliss.

To feel that his babes so fair, That gave him so much delight,

Had the faith to believe that he knew bes~ A.nd that father was always right.

What a lesson we get from this, This faith of the trusting child,

As we pass on our way on the road oflife That is sometimes dark and wild.

If we feel that our Father's hand Will guide us to pathways bright,

And though clouds may gather, and ways· seem dark.

"Our FatHer is always right."

Then teach it unto your child, \Vhen you have him upon your knee,

That pretty babe w.ith the' sunny hair; Who looks up so trustingly,

To have faith in a Father's love, clouds may obscure the light,

And to feeJ as he passes along through life· His Father is ahvays right.

Selected.

THE OTHER SIDE.

We gn our ways in life too much alone, We hold ourselves too far from all our kind;

Too often we are dead to sigh and moan; Too often to the weak and helpless blind:

Too often, where distress and want abide, We turn, and pass upon the other side.

The other side is trodden smooth, and worn By footsteps passing idly all the day.

Where lie the bruised ones that faint and mourn .Is seldom more than an untrodden way;

Our selfish hearts are for OUf teet the guide, They lead us upon the other side.

It should be ours the oil and wine to pour Into the bleeding wounds of strickenonesj

To take the smitten and the sick and sore, And bear them where a stream ofblessingr\lns ..

Instead, we look about, the way is wide; And so we pass upon the other side.

o friends and brothers, gliding down the years,. Humanity is calling each and all,

In tender accents, born of grief and tears! I pray you listen to the thrillng call:

You can not, in your cold and selfish pride, Pass guiltlessly by on the other side.

Selected:.


WHY ARE WE TEMPTED?

BY ELDER H. L. HOLT.

mHIS ls a qUBstlonoftenasked: vYhy J 1 ' are those who love the Lord, so often afflicted and tried? We answer, For the same reason Christ was. It is written that he was made through suffer-ing.--lieb.2:10; that in all points he was tempted as we yet without sin. In poverty, and contempt,-all t;his that he obtain power to do 'us the good he came to do. It was gfter all this suffering, that all pbwer was given him; he was not until he had pass-ed through these for it is said that them (even to Father's hiding his face from him) he was made perfect. No wonder that bitter cry escaped his lips: "My God, God, why hast thou forsaken me?" apostles and those whom he had instructed and done so much could not watch one hour at "this the most trying time of ,his life; and afterwards, when his Father seemed to hide his it is no wonder that even from the Son of God was wrung that sad and bitter cry, "Why hast thou forsaken me?"

How many suffering human hearts have uttered this same wail when apparently forsaken by all! Truly our great Captain suffered as we. He was to be an example uuto us; and there are few indeed, if any, of his followers whose lips have Dot uttered the same But as his Father bore him up, so he and as he gave him his

after he had passed this of his faith, (and who

that it was not a trial of his faj th), us. Let us bear in mind that his were like ours, and of

must have been a test of his faith. these thoughts in mind, we begin to realize that he was indeed a Brother.

If all this was that he might be made perfect, so are our sufferings~ Not that God desires to test our faith, for he already knows, but that we may be benefitted thereby. And how benefitted? As follows: Man is just what he makes himself; ignorant or wise, good or evil, just as he chooses; and will take into the next world the disposition he forms here. The

transition from this life to the not ehange his nature in the 'will be removed from hindering UU'l""H,"."",

and be where he will be able to do the good he forms a desire to do here. As he formed, or was a party to, the disposition he brought here, so will he there.

Every organ of the body is made strong by being used; and the the test, if in i'eason, the more are de-veloped. Equally true is of the spir-itual organs, those nec-essary for our advancement. If no one should ever injure we could never de-velop that most virtue, forgive-ness. If knowledge were within our reach, our minds would never be train-ed to think; our faculties would remain dormant. never came, we would never learn to overcome obstacles and to trust in God. All these trials tend. to help us form a proper character; and it argues a future life of usefulness where we will deal with beings much the same as here. It is possible;e

T01rO'ivp. Wl'Ougs there, as here; . among others;

for it will be borne in that those of the Celestial world will minister to those of the Terrestrial, where it is likely all these virtues will be required, as well as among ourselves. We arc here building a character which will be necessary in the

work of the future; we are here (if patient in these trials) stepping up into a of power, where we will be to do much that we desire to do but can not for lack of power. The

Ohrist prompts men to do good to their follow-men. 'When will this end?

not at death, when, if faithful, we just merged into a condition of

From what we see and can learn of there will be ample opportunity

and if we have attained unto the of conditions-to be able to love our neighbors as ourselves, we will be per~itted to labor in their behalf~which we will always desire to do, as long as we have the Spirit of Christ. Those bright beings that come delegated


A ]'REE SEA.T. 49'l

,to this earth 'on misions of love to us poor mortality, whose presence such unspeakable joy, were once, no doubt, like us, and toiled up the same ,veary and have gained the better world, are now sent back to help us thorny path. See Rev. 22: gand Evidently this angeJ that came to had been here and had the

.reason of which he was sent to "'LU"""U'O'" to him. Keeping the law both power and a disposition These beings having once been of the earth, it is not that their love should be for those the whose sufferings they have felt. Surely must,

be a joy for them to return! Let us remember more joyful duties are in store for the faithful than sitting on clouds and singing songs, or walking on streets of gold and playing harps. vVe will

grander anthems than mortals ever sang, but such will be the experiences of hearts overflowing with gratitude for the good we have been permitted to do to those that we love; and as we tread those pearly streets, it will be with our dearest friends; and if some loved one is missing, may it not he our llappy lot to bring them there, in the same manner we bring them to Christ here. Something in my inmost soul answers, Yes.

A FREE SEAT.

He was old, and POOl', and a stranger In the great mn.'wmn

As he bent his steps thitherward, To a edifice;

Outside he inquires: "What church is this?" "Church of he hears them say.

"Ah, just! he place I am looking for, I trust he is here to-day."

He JYd;8sed the sP,WiOU8 columned door, And up the car'oel,ca aisle;

And as he He ,mw and a smile.

From pew to pew up one whole side, Then across the broad front space;

From pew to pew down the other side, He walked with the same slow pace.

Not a friendly voice had bid him sit To listen to gospel truth;

Not a sign of deference had been paid To the aged one by youth.

No door was opened by generous hand; The pews were paid for-rented,

And he was a stranger, old and poor; Not a heart to him relented.

He paused a moment outside to think, Then passed into the street;

Up to his shoulder he lifted a stone That lay in the dust at his feet,

And bore it up the broad In front of the ranks

aisle,

Choosing a place to see and hear, He made a seat for his use.

Calmly sitting upon the stone Folding his hands on his knees,

Slowly reviewing the worshipers A great confusion he sees.

Many a cheek is crimsoned with shame; Some

And wish To the stmnger, old and poor.

As doors Open instantaneoulsly

And as many seat~ and books and hands _'\.1"e t)!()1i,"rerl

Changing his stone for a crimsoned pew And wiping a tear away,

He thinks it was a mistake after all And that Christ came late that day.

The preacher's discourse was eloquent; The organ in finest tone,

But the most impressive sermon heard "Was preached by an humble stone.

'Twas a lesson of lowliness and worth That lodged in many a heart;

And the church preserves that sacred stone, That the truth may not depart.

Selected.


WITH THE CHURCH IN AN EARLY DAY.

BY "FRANCES."

MARGERY'S father did not come immeJ 01 diately to the house, but going to the barn attended to putting up his team, and when he came in he appeared to be absorbed in his own thoughts so deeply that little was said concerning the events of the clay; and her parents remaining silent, l\1argery's thoughts became absorbed in her own affairs, and most of the conversation was left to the younger members of the family; consequently the subject upon which she most anxiously desired an expression of opinion was not broached, 'and after the evening meal was cleared away she retired to her own room, wishing to be alone with her thoughts. Once there, she reviewed carefully the subject of the morning'S sermon, and taking her Bible, sat down to read. Turning to the 16th cbapter of lYIark, she read it very slowly, between long pauses of thought, from the beginning to the end. Her heart was deeply touched as there rose before 11er mental vision the picture of the weeping women, as in the dim light of that first day morning they hastened to the sepulcher, bearing sweet spices to embalm the body of Jesus. Long before the sun bad risen they had started upon their lonely way, and when his beams first feU upon the hillside, they were standing in front of the sepulcher, questioning with themselves, "1Vho shall roll us away the stone from the door?"

Margery found herself in thought stand· ing beside the women in the garden beneath the bending olive trees, upon the topmost branches of which the rays of sunlight were resting, but penetrating scarcely half the distance to the dense shade in front of the tomb. "Whom do they seek?" was the mental question tbat rose in her mind.

"A man who lately was crucified by the Romans, upon a cross, between two thieves," was the answer.

"Who was this man, and why did these women love him so?"

"He was a malefactor, an impostor, condemned to death by Pilate the governor, but this rich man, being a friend of

brought his body, and, after wrapping it inclean linen, laid it in his own new tomb. In life they knew him, and love is stronger than death."

"But what is this; what means that open sepulcher? Do you see the women entering in? And now they come forth quickly, and, trembling in every limb, hasten from the garden. What have they seen,. and whither do they flee so swiftly?"

"It is. known that this impostor told his; followers that he would rise from thedead, therefore the Jews demanded from the governor to set a guard over the tomb, and he gave them a band of soldiers, and sealed the rock in front of the tomb with his own seal; but during the night these soldiers slept, and while they slept his disciples came and stole his body. They made haste away with it, for death is thepenalty of what they have done, as no one can with impunity break the governor's seal. But these women say they have seen two sitting upon the stone, who bade them hasten to his disciples and tell them that this man has risen. Of course this is a delusion, but they believe their fancy to be a reality, and for this cause they are hastening away, poor dupes of an impostor and a deluded fancy!

Thus spake the voice of infidelity and doubt to the heart of Margery, and she shuddered as the cold, calculating thoughts entered her mind. "What if this should be true'?" she questioned. "It is believed unto this day by the Jews, aDd may it not be true? 'What indeed if Christ be not risen? 'Then is our preaching vain, and your faith is also vain; you are yet in your sins.'" • But Infidelity vanished, and Faith stood by her side, and this was the soul-inspiring answer she brought: "'But the angels said unto them, Be not affrighted; ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified; he is risen, he is not here; behold the place w here they laid him, and way; tell his disciples and Peter, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall you see him as he said unto you.' See them enter the sepulcher, and mark how


WI1'Fl: THE OHUROH IN AN EARLY DAY. 499

gaze upon the place where Jesus had lain. They find him not: and now their feet are winged with joy, ~nd they hasten to his disciples with their message, for they know they shall see him. He told them that he would go before them into Galilee; he never deceived them, and they know they shall see him there, and hail him as their King, their Redeemer."

"If he was indeed they ever have doubted?" er.

how could the Tempt-

"But his disciples did doubt, and they believed not the women," said Faith; "afterward he appeared unto two others, and when they told it unto the rest,they would not believe, and did not believe until he appeared unto them."

"I do not wonder," thought Margery, "that Jesus upbraided them with their hardness of heart and unbelief; and yet, had he not promised them when he spake unto the women and sent word for them to go into Galilee saying, 'There shall they see me?' Certainly he had, and therefore they expected it, a~d had a to look fo"r its fulfillment; but because of this they ought not to have doubted the witness of those who had seen him. This truly was unbelief, and deprived them of much comfort."

But all thought of the perplexity and unbelief of the disciples, vanished from "Margery's mind as her whole attention became absorbed with the similar condition in which she found herself: "I have but the testimollV of others to the truth of these strange things. This record, this sacred book which I hold in my hand, was written by men long since dead, men whom. I never saw, and how can I know of a certain tv that there is no mistake about, it? They did not believe the women, neither the two who first saw Jesus, can thev then enter into with me, and condemn me because I not believe them? \Vhat was it "Mr. Clark said about the witness of God being greater than the witness of men. The disciples who knew Jesus, who saw him die on the cross, alld knew that his dead body was laid in· the sepulcher, never could doubt faqt of his being alive-his resurrection from the dead-after they saw him and talked with him, therefore it was not only good for them to see but it was good also for the unborn. Was it enough? It was not enough for

them to depend upon the testimony of others; is it enough for me?

"Perhaps such thought,s never would have come into my mind," she rather impatiently, "if I had not Mr. Clark this but then I ought not to blame anyone for presenting to the cOIlsideration of that whic.h is contained in God's word. Bible which I hold in my hand is the sanle book that I have used from childhood, and here, even in this chapter, is the authorized message of life and salvation to man, 'He that l)elieveth and is shall be but he that shall be condemned.' as the color rose in her here also a promise for me, even as he promised the disciples that they should see him, and this is: 'These shall follow them that believe;' and Mark savs that the Lord worked with them cOl;firming the word with fol

'Confirming it with signs,'" she slowly; "this word which .Jesus

the gospel, and which the angels de-clared wa.s, oll.earth, good will to men,' this which the 1'1sen Savior sent them to he promised should be accompanied, or followed, by signs, and it was the believer in the gospel whom these signs were to .follow, or be with. Do I believe that gospel? I fear I do not even know what the gospel isdo not know what I am to believe. Truly there is need that I sea,rch th(~ t~ues, and from this da.y I am that I wilL \Vhen the risen Redeemer

unto Thomas, and held forth wounded hands, and'took the hand of

the doubting one and it in his immediatelv he called out l.Jord and" Godl'. It

sba.H be 111

but in and I

closed the the bec1sic1 € offered

for be into

error. ""Vhen she arose the were in th~ heav-ens, and through her came the hum of insect life, and mingling 'with

the notes of the whip-poor-will a branch close

. she started as the low howl


500 WITH THE CHURCH IN ANEA.Rr;Y DAY.

wolf from a neighboring thicket came borne upon the breeze. Then there came over her the memory of what Daniel had that day told her, ai,d she knew why thi:,; matter was olle of paramount i11ter~st to her, for her heart told her that her future happiness, hoth for time and eternity, ,vas at stake, and dependent upon the way in which she answered it. From the first she had intuitively known that unless her faith assimilated to his, she could never be his wife. There was that in her earnest nature, whieh responded to the earnestness of his, and she knew that it was only it matte!' of c011viotion upon her part and she would be a" earnest, as zealous in the faith, as he himself was; hut,

anomaly! strange eontradiction of human nature, and one hard to understand! she resolved to eontend the more earnestly this eonviction, and not to yield' an inch of ground until certain that she was yielding to the convictions of conscienee,<and not to the persuasions of love. If the words of Ruth were ever

by her, would but echo the convieton that his God was the God of ' Abraham, Isaac and .Tacob, that his people were a eho~en people of the lowly .Te-

'sus, and a people who could say with .T oh, '1 know that my Redeemer liveth.' "

It is not our intention at thig time to follow the mental struggle of in her effort to arrive at a solution of the problem present t() her mind; but, having glanced at the commencement of the struggle, leave her alone to battle with her own heart, and the opposition met with from her parents~whose silenee upon that evening she conjectured did not have its origin acquiescence or in-difference. The fact of her having refrained from inqniring what the opinon of her parents was, led them to suspeet that hers was favorable. and entrenched them more closely in their previous silence. They had long guessed that Daniel had a preference for Margery, but had no clue to them with reference to her feelings. That she was warmly attached to Mary they knew; bu t had not the slightest idea in what light she regarded him. As the future chapters of our story will lead us away from these quiet forest scenes, and will constrain us to follow the events of Daniel's life in rapid transition, our readers will pardon us for lingering to delineate the scenes recorded in the,

next chapters before bidding them farewell forever. It will he at' the quiet sun· set which precedes a night of tempest and storm.

It is related of Epietetus, the heathen philosopher, whose own is said to have been an example of modera-tion other virtnes, that he and again reminded his disciples, we might have many, if not all, the advantages the world has, if we were willing to pay the price by which they are obtained. But if that priee be a mean or wicked one, and if we should have to scorn ourselves were we ever indueed to pay it, then we must not even cast one longing look of regret towards things whieh can only be got by that which we deliberately refuse to give."

"Every good and just man," says Areh· deacon ]i'arrar, "may gain, if not happiness, then something higher than happiness. Let no one regard this as a mere phrase, for it is capable of a most distinct and definite meaning. There are eertain

which all men desire, and whieh all men ,,:'onlcl gladly, if they could law· fully and innocently, obtain. These things are health, wealth, ease, comfort, influence, honor, freedom from opposition and pain; and yet if you were to place all these blessings on one side, and on the other side to place poverty and disease and trouble and· eontempt, yet, if on this side also yon were to place truth and justice and a sense that however densely the clouds may gather about onr life, the light of God will be yisible beyond them, all the noblest men who ever lived would ehoose, as without hesitation they always have ehosen, the latter destiny.

"It is not that any like failure, but they preferfai1ul'e to falsity; it is not that they love persecution, but they prefer perseeution to meanness; it is not that they relish opposition, but they welcome opposition, rather than guilty acquiescence; it is not that they do .not shrink from agony, but they would not escape. agony by crime. The selfishness of Dives in his purple is to them less enviable than the innocence of Lazarus in rags. They wonld be chained' with .T ohn in prison rather than loll with Herod at the feast; they would fight the wild beast wit,h Paul in the arena, rather than be steeped in the foul luxury of Nero on the throne. It is not happiness, hut it is something higher than happiness; it is stillness, it is assurance, i


'fHE STORY OF THE BOOK OF MORMON, 601

is satisfaction, it is peace; the world call neither understand it, nor give nor take it away-it is indescribable-it the gift of God."

We earnestly trust our young friends who have thus far followed the fortunes of Daniel, will read witb attentive care the above paragraph; for we wish to impress upon the minds of our young readers that happil1e!'s is not the cbief good, neither the higbest aim to be striven for by man; and in a false estimate of the importance which should be attached thereto lies one of the most objectionahle features of modern fiction in general. In it the good are always rewarded and happy, while the bad are always punished and miserable. This is true as a finale, but the unale it not a],,-avs reached in this life. It is true as a but not when measured by the false standard miRed for our approvaL Truth, honor and virtue are their own reward; bnt truth often goes clothed in rags, while falseh09d rides in a chariot: honol' sits in sackcloth and

while wears the pnrple robe of kings; virtue begs for a crust to sustain life, while vice riots in wanton luxury and fares sumptuously every day. Can you afford to buy the chariot and

trappings of falsehood, by giving truth in exchange? Can you afford to barter honor for the purple robes of villainy; or would you exchange the crust eaten by virtue, for the sumptuous fare of vice? Never! never! l,et your highest aspiratiOlls be for the right; let, your strong right arm be palsied rather than it should ever be lifted in defense of wrong, and let your tongue cleave to the roof of your mouth rather than be smeared by the vile slime of falsehood!

If our story lead you through and storm; if it to you scenes of

and sorrow endured for the truth's sake, let it make that truth more precious to your soul; and .let it cause you to resolve anew to love and cherish the gospel of J eSlls Christ, to manifest in your own life its pure and life-giving power, and to be faithful unto God even if it lead YOll into the valley and the shadow of death. The Christian is doubly rewarded; for he has, every day, every hour of his life, that which is dearer than life, the peace w hieh comes from a conscience void of and-when faithful unto the end-lif., everlasting, "an inheritance incol'l'uptible, undefiled and that not away."

THE STORY OF E BOOK OF MORMON.

BY I-I. A. STEBBINS.

CHA PTER IX.

BOOKS 01;' ENOS, JAROM AND O~1Nl. Enos and' His Work.-The Idolatry of the Lamanites.'

Prosperity of the N ephites.~Jarom tells of Righteousness and Justice.-Lamnnite Invasjons.~'Mosiah and his Oompany go North to find Another reL"Jle.~~ Learn of the Jaredite8.~The Ruins of

, late Land.

WHEN Enos reeeived the plates from Jacob he gave a statement of his own

conversion and of his joy in having a knowledge of God and of the truth of his word. rrhen he prayed fervently and coutiu nally for his brethren, the N ephites, and received answer that according to the degree in w hioh they kept the command· ments of God so should they receive the

blessings of heaven, without fail; and only iniquity would they forfeit the promises and bring evil upon themselves. To him also was the promise confirmed that the record shOlIld be preserved in safety, and that it should come to the knowledge of the Lamanites in the latter days, To the N ephites of his time Enos taught these and he preached that right-eousness godliness were requisites to t.heir happiness and prosperity. Then he an.1 some of his brethren visited the Lamanites and tried to teaeh and bring them to the true faith. But it was all vain, for they were too wild and fierce. They seemed wholly given over to darkness of


THE STORY OF THE BOOK OF MORMON.

mind and to a spirit of idolatry so far as coneerned their ideas of the world beyond and its inhabitants and powers. They did not till the ground, but lived by hunting, and clothed themselves with the skins of the animals they killed.

The N ephites continued to labor at their agricultural affairs and to prosper and grow rich. They raised abundance of grain and fruit; and Enos says that they also had horses, cattle, and goats, while J arom wrote that they increased in wealth, not only having gold and silver, but also buildings and machinery,-working in iron, copper, steel and brass, manufacturing implements to work with, and weapons of war. [w]

When Enos had passed away his son Jarom engraved upon the plates a brief account of events, saying that thA main portion of the N ephites kept the law of Moses, observed the Sabbath day to keep it holy, and were neither blasphemous nor profane. Their rulers, good men, taught the true faith, and were strict in their government and in executing ~Phose who were obedient to the commandments had the Holy Spirit to aid and comfort them, and many were thus blessed. Two hundred had passed, says Jarom, since their left Jeru-salem, and the N ephites had become a numerous people upon the land. As related above, they had all that was necessary and useful for their comfort and happiness. Therefore was the word of the Lord fulfilled wherein he had said that ina8much as they kept his commandments they should prosper.

The prophets and labored faith-fully in teaching the unto the people, at the same time inspiring them to look forward in faith to the "Messiah's coming, ani! to believe in him as if he had already oome.'l'hus were they kept alive in the truth,and largely free from darkness and sIn.

Jarom says that the Lamanites came against them many times, but the N ephites -strongly fortified their cities in defense, and finally dl'ove them entirely out of their land and its borders. Jarom lived till two hundred and thirty-eight years had gone by and then delivered the plates to .his son.

And Omni wrote that the N ephites enjoyed many seasons of peace and much prosperity, notwithstanding numerous La-

manite invasions of their country. The. death of Onmi occurred in the two hundred and eighty-second year from their leaving Jerusalem.

And Amaron, the son of Omni, took the plates. He wrote that some were wicked in his time, which caused judgments to come upon such, but the righteous were, saved and their posterity were blessed. So three hundred and twenty years had passed. Then Chemish wrote a few words and gave the record to his son Abinadom. He wrote that many were the conflicts in his time between 'the two peoples, but thul'\ far the N ephites had, to a great degree, kept the commandments of God, and they were still prospered. After the death of Abinadom his son Amaleki took llP the history of that people and kept the record. He wrote chiefly concerning a wise and good man called }\:[osiah. It appears that some time before Amaleki wrote, Mosiah and a company of the N epbites had gone out from the main body into the region north of their land, being commanded by the Lord so to do; and they came into a region that was inhabited by those who called themselves the people of Zarahemla, whose fathers had left J ernsalem ten years after l~ehi

at the time that N ebuchadnezzar took .J erusalem and carried King Hezekiah and his people to Babylon. They also had been guided by the Lord through the wilderness and across the great waters, and for over three hundred years had dwelt there, till found by the N ephites. They had brought no records, and to a degree had departed from the law Moses and its preeepts, even so far as to deny the existence of the Rupreme Being. And their language varied from the original Hebrew so that Mosiah could hardly uni.lerstand them until the N ephites had taught them the more perfeet language.

An engraved tablet was brought to :Mosiah, and he, having the gift of interpre. tation from the Lord, found that the people of Zarahemla had come to the land in time to find alive the last one of the Jaredite8, even King Coriantumr, whose history, and that of his people, was given as related in chapters one and two of this Story. The people of Zarahemla learned from Coriantumr that his fathers came out from the Towel' of Babel at the time of the confusion of languages, and that through their wars, and because of their wicked-


THE STORY OF THE BOOK OF MORMON. 503

ness, they had perished as a people. Also he learned that their bones and the ruins of their cities and villages were scattered throughout the land northward.

tw) Concerning the wealth of the ancient. inhabitants of South America. and their numerous cities and extensive settlements, we find a .great amount ofinformation and evidence in the books of explorers and historians. The testimony is conclusive and. overwhelming that great wealth and accumulatIOns belonged to the former inhabitants of those regions that the Book (If Mormon gi ves account of in its history of the Nephites. For instance, Bl'Ownell in his "Indian Ra<:es" ~ays that the ruins and great space over WhICh thev extend

"Indicate the existence for many ages of a people possessing all the power which government, settled institutions. and an lished national chara~~t<or can give."

Bradford in his "Origin of the Red Race" writ.es 0' t.heir greatness and the extensiveness of their remains, and says:

"Weare surprised to discover a continuous, unbroken chain of these relics; and, reverting to the epoch of their construction, we twe pre'sented with the astonishing spectacle of a great race cultivating the earth, possessing of the and diffused through an ritorv thousand miles in

The following quotations are Baldwin: "re existing monuments of an Ameri

can history which invite study, and most of which might, doubtless, have been studied more successfully in the first part of the sixteenth century, before nearly all the old books of Central Americ,a had been destroyed by Spanish fanaticism, thau at present.. 'Remains of ancient civilizations, differing to some extent in degree and character, are found in three great sections of the American continent:, the west side of South America. bAtween Chili and the first or second degree of north latitude; Central America and ylexico; and the vaneys of the Mississippi and the Ohio. These regions have all been explored to some extent-not completely, but sufficiently to show the ~igni:(icance and importance of their arehooological remains, most of which were already mysteri{lUS antiquities when the eontinent was di~eov-ered by Columblls."-Ancient America. page 14.

"The uniform and constant report of Peruvian tradition plaees the beginning of this old dvili.zation in the Valley of Cuzeo, near Lake Titicaea. There appeared the first civilizers and the first civilized communities. Thi" beautiful valley is the most elevated table-land on the continent, Lake Titicaca being 12,846 feet above the sea level."-Ancient A.merica.page 236"

According to the Book of }'[ormon the coast of Peru was the one upon whieh the origiual settlers, the N ephites, landed, though at the time the book was published learned men had uot studied and explored enough to arrive at the conclusion that the people upon the Americ,an continent had a common origin, and that its beginnincr was in Peru. Now, howevf'r, we see that the testimony of the book is eminently true and that the discoveries of Bcienee demonstrates

its truth, while itself bears witness that scientific men have not been at fault in their decisions upon this point. Of the people and their civilization Baldwin writes:

"The ruins of Ancient Peru are found chiefly on the elevated table-lands of the Andes, between Quito and Lake Titicaca; but they can be traced five hundred miles farther south, to Chili, and throughout the region connecting these high plateaus with the Pacific coast. The great district to whieh they belong extends north and south about two thousand miles. When the marauding Spaniards arrived in the country, this whole region was the seat of a populous and prosperous empire, complete in its civil or~anization, supported by an efficient system ofll1dustry, and presenting a very notable development of some of the more important arts of civilized life. These ruins differ from those in Mexico and Central America. No inscriptions are fonnd in, Peru; there is no longer a 'marvelous abundance nf decorations;' nothing is seen like the monoliths of Oopan or the basreliefs of Palenque. The method of bnilding is different; the Peruvian temples were not high truncated pyramids, and the great edifices were not erected on pyramidal foundations. The Pel'llvian ruins show us remains of cities, temples, palaces, other edifices of various kinds, fortresses, aqueducts (one of them four hundred and fifty miles long), great roads (ehencling through the whole length of the empire), and terraces on the sides of mountains. For all these constructions the builders used eut laid in mortar or cement, and their \vork was ad-mirably, but it is everywhere seen that the masonry, although sometimes ornamented, was generally plain in style and alwavs massive. The antiquities in this region have "not been as much explored and described as those north of the isthmus, but their general charadeI' is known, and particular descriptions of some of them have been published.

"The Spanish conquest of Peru furnishes one of the most remarkable chapters in the history of audacious villainv. It was the work of successful buc,caneers as unscrupulous as any crew of pirates that ever rohbed and murdered 011 the ocean. After their settlements began on the islands and the Atlantic coast, rumors came to them of a wonderful countrv somewhere at a distance in the west. They knew nothing of another ocean between them and the Indies; the western side of the ('ontinent was a veiled land of mystery, but the rumors, constantly repeated, assured them that there was a count!'v in that unknown region where gold was more abundant than iron among themselvf's. rrheir strongest

were moved; greed for the precious and thi1':<t for adventures.

"Balboa was hunting for Peru when he discovered the Pacific, about 1511, A. D. He was guided across the isthmus by a young native chief. who told him of that ocean, saying it was the best way to the conntry where all the common household utf'Tlsils were made of gold" At the Bay of Panama Balboa heard more of Peru, and went down the coast to find it. but did not go south much beyond the eighth degree of north latitude. In 'his company of adventurers at this time was Francisco Pizarro, by whom Peru was found, subjngated, robbed, and ruined,


504 THE STORY OF THE BOOK OF MORMON.

some fifteen or twenty years later."-Ancient America, page.~ 222-224 ..

During sevel'al hundred years the Nephites remained in South America, and from ·the book we should judge that they led a more quiet and simple life than they did period. They were more inclined to matters and to plainness than they they de-parted from the ways of the When they went into Central America JYIexico doubt-less their tastes were more for ornamentation in their buildings and sculptures. From Baldwin we quote further upon this interesting Bub-

of ancient historv: "In 1531 Pizarro entered Tumbez with

his buccaneers, and marched into the country, sending to the Inca that he came to aid him enemies .... ~<U a citv called Caxamalr~, contrived, by means of most atrocious trea,cher~', to seize the Inca ma.~sacre SOnle ten thousand of the Peruvians, who his 'camp

friendlv visit. the whole confusion, and made the (>(yniTllPi.t.

Inca filled a room with gold as priee of his ransom; the Spaniards took the gold, broke their promise, and put him to death."-Ancient America, pages 225, 226.

Of the ruins throughout Peru, he says: "It is now agreed that the Peruvian

ties represent two distinct periods in the history of the country, one being mueh than the other. ::VII'. Pre-cott accepts and repeats the opinion that 'there existed in the country a race advanced in civilization before the time of the Incas,' and ruins on the shores of Lake Titicaca are the reign of the first Inca. In the work of Rivero and Von Tschudi, it is stated that a critical cxami

of the monuments 'indicates two very epochs in Peruvian art, at lea.st so far

as concerns architecture one before and the other after the arrival first Inca.' Among the ruins which belong to older civilization are those at Lake Titicaca, old Huanuco, Tiahuanaco, and Gran·Chimu, and it probably originated the roads and aqueducts .. At Cuzco and other places are remains of buildings which represent the later time; but Cuzco of the Incas appears to have occupied the Hide of a ruined city of the older period."-Ancient America, pages 226, 227.

Montesinos, a Spanish scholar in .Peru in the time of the Conquest, believed that the city of Cuzco was built on the ruins of a still older city. Baldwin further oithat civilization:

"At Lake some of the most important remains on the islands. On Titicaca Island are the of a great edific.e described as 'a palace or temple.' Remain;;; of other structures

but their ruins are old, much older than the of the Incas. They were all built of hewn Etone, and had doors and windows, with posts, sills, and thresholds of the door-ways being above than On the island of there The largest here palace or temple,' something else. It in exten t. It parallelogram, with struetion connected

Making" allowance for the absence of the pyramidal foundations, it has more resemblance to' some oft.he great constructions in Central America than anvthingpeeuliar to the later period· of architecture. The antiquities on the and shores of this lake need to be more completely explored and described, and probably interesting discoveries c<?uld be made' at some points by means of well-dIrected exca-· vations.

A few miles from Lake Titicaca, at Tiahuana-co, are which were imposing when first seen the Spaniards tirne of Pizar-ro. It is usual to speak of them as the oldest ruins in Pern, which may not be correct. They must, however, be with those at the lake. Not much now remains of -fices, which were in a very ruinous three hundred and fortv years ago. were described bv Cieca de Leon. who acccompanied Pizarro, aud also by Diego d' Alcobaea. Ciem de mentions 'great edifices' that were in ruins. Ameri,:a. pages 227-232.

"Of a remarkable whose founda-tions traced near statues, noth·· jng remained 'but a well-built wall,·which must. have been for ages. the being

. very much worn and crumbled.' de I"eon's description

'''In this place, so large; and so overgrown onr is incited, it being incomprehensible how the power of man could have placed them where we see them. They are, variously wrought, and some of having the form of men, must have been

the walls are caves and fl~nn"o+i the earth, hut ano'he1' place, farther'

west, are other and greater monuments, such as large gateways with hinges, platforms, and porches, each made of a single stone. It surpriEed me to see these enormous gateways made· of great of stone. some of which were-thirty feet fifteen high, and six thick.'

"Manvof 8tom) monuments at TiahuanacO' have been removed, some forbuiJding, "ome for other purposes_ In one ease, 'large of sculptured stone ten yards in length six in width' were used to make grinding stones for a chocolate mill. The principalmonnments now seen on this field of ruinA are a vast mound covering several acres, there seems to. have a great edifice, of columns, erect of "tonE' W 11ic11 formed parts of bulld-ing~. and several of the monolithic /2ateways, the largest of which was ma(le of a single stone ten feet high and thirteen broad. The doorway.

six feet four inche~ high, and three feet two· wide, Above it, a.long tbe whole length

of the stone, which is now broken, if' a. cornice covered with sculptured figures. 'The whole neig-hborhood,' says Mr. Squier, 'is strewn with imnwl1se bloeks of stone elabomtely wrought, equal i ng, if not surpassing in size, any known to> exif't in Egypt or India.'

H .. 'd Cnzco, two or more degrees north of Lake there are ruins of huildings that were

oC'CU],H€'(\ until the rule of the Incas was overthrown. Remains of the old structures are seeu· in yarious parts of the present some of' thew into new built bv the Cyclopean remains of walls of' the of the Sun now eOllstitute a portioD:


WHY I OAME TO INDEPENDENOE.

of the of St. Domingo. In t,he davs of the Incas, . temple stood ia circuit of . than four hundred. paces,' and was <:mM"onncl

by a great wall built of cut stone. the old fortifications are seen; and is an extensive ruin here which shows is sup-posed to be all that remains of the palace of the Incas. Occasionally there is search at (Juzco, by means of excavation, for antiquities. With-in a few an important discovery has been made; calendar the Incas, made of gold, has At first it was scribed "8 'a gold or sun" but Ham Bollaert, who aecount'of it, finds that it is acalendar, discovered in. Peru. Many others, probably, went to the melting pot at the time ofthe.Oonquest. This is not quite circular. The outer ring is five and three tenths in diameter, and the inner inches. It was made to be fa~tened to the breast of Inca or priest. The were stamped on and there 'seem to twentv-fonr

large and including three the bottom spaces;

or n:laY not have been there, but it looks as if they had been worn a\vay.' It was found about the year 1859."--Ancient America.,page8 232-236

Montesinos said that the native tradition concerning this civilization was that it orioinated with b

"A people led by four hrothel's, the valley of Ouzco and developed

in a very hl1lllan way. The these brothers assumed supreme became the first of a long line.of O()1JA7'AiD"TIR "-_.

Ancient Amer'ica. ilaue 264. This looks '. much like the preservation of

the sons of Lehi, Nephi being the youngest and yet the ruler the other as this tradition also has it. It a remarkable coincidence if it be nothing more than that. But it has the appearance of being more than tbat. Undoubtedly Nephi and his snecessors were originators of the civilization that so long on the soil Peru, such as is told Baldwin, Prescott, Squier, Orton and' others whose testimony we shall quote more· hereafter.

To be continued .

'vV .I CAME TO IN E NDENC

BY DANIEL S. BOWEN.

'ZJBOUT ten o'clock one Sunday mornl.l ing, in the latter part of February, some years ago, I was sitting with my face towards the west, reading the Book of Doctrine and Covenants, when I heard a voice over head, but did not fnlly understand it. I looked up, and as I did so, the voice again said, "Look South." I turned my head and looked in the direction named, but saw nor heard no more at that time.\Vondering wl1at it oould mean, I went to my wife and related the experience I had had, asking her if she could explain it. I~ike myself she was unable to do so. I then began to enquire of the Lord regarding the matter, but received no ans,ver, notwithstanding it was almost constantly before my mind, and I was extremely anxious to know its purport.

After the lapse of a long time I was one day, early in November, at work without, and, as usual, st,udying upon this matter, when, suddenly, I heard the same voice again, and also these words: "There is a piece of land in Independence for

you." 1 was also told to go to Independence at once.

Obedient to the counsel given, I instantly quit my work, entered the. house and told mv wife that I had learned the intent of the "forIner strange experience, giving her a statement of what had been told

I matters and left home, days, for Independence.

that town I went to a real estate agent, named Sea, and told him I thought of buying some property. He kindly took me into his buggy and in driving along showed me several pieces of property which he had for sale.

While driving around I silently prayed and waited for the Spirit to me an intimation that would enable me to settle on the proper place. When passing by the Temple lot, and talking with the agent about a piece of land across the road north

A"L.-f,.,~·.m the Spirit witnessed to me that I should purchase there. I did so, and felt satisfied that God had a purpose in directing me; but what that purpose was I did not then know, though it was a


LIFE OF ONE OF EARTH'S PILGRIMS.

beautiful piece of land, upon which you could stand and see Kansas City, ten miles :away.

A couple of years ago it began to dawn upon me what was the object of that sel,ectiOIl. A new church site was needed, :and the same Spirit led me to give a lot for that purpose; and now with a handsome stone chllrch in course of erection, and a railroad running right by the lot, we can see something of the intention of the voice which first spoke to me. Surely eGod moves in a mysterious way to accom-

plish his work. Thousands of people pass by and express their admiration of the beautiful structure, and the zeal and devotion of the Saints. I rejoice in God, who is remembering Zion, and is beautifying her. Soon her towers shall rise, if we are faithful. God is giving us opportunity to help beautify this land, and our works will show the measure of our faith. May the Lord bless all who help with means, and all who have no means, but are aiding by their prayers.

INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF ONE OF EARTH'S PILGRIMS.

BY EDWIN STAFFORD.

I well remember the first time my brother and myself attended Sabbath

'School at Nauvoo,' from the fact that this was the first time we had ever done so lIince becoming members of the church; there existing' in the minds of the Saints with whom we had asociated before goinO' 'there, a prejudice against Sunday School~, styling them sectarian institutions. It was held in the grove just west or south 'of west of where the temple was in process 'of erection; and it seemed as if the grove was filled. with the difrerent classes of which such schools consist. 'rhe Superintendent was Bro. VV m. Marks, President .of the Stake of Nauvoo.

Brother Marks was a man I learned <to love and respect, and there will always be a warm spot in IllY heart for him, and it is a source of great comfort to the writer in contemplating that ere long, if faithful to his trust, he will strike glad hands with him and many other faithful ones whose spirits have entered the paradise of God and are awaiting the Lord's time to inaugurate that day of righteousness that Enoch and his city are looking for, togeth,er with all the sanctified ones that have ;gone before- a day when the sealed por·tion of the plates delivered to the Seer will be read and understood, and all things shall be revealed which have been ;among the £hildren of men, or ever will

be, even to the end of the earth; a day when the following song will be sung by all the ransomed ones having part in the first resurrection, or quickened at the coming of the Savior to reign: "The Lord hath brought again Zion; The Lord hath redeemed his people Israel. According to the election of graee, Which was brought to pass by the faith And covenant of their father.'!. The Lord hath redeemed his people, And Satan is bound, and time is no longer. The Lord hath gathered all things in one. The Lord hath brought down Zion from above; The Lord hath brought up Zion from beneath; The earth hath travailed and brought forth

her strength; And truth is established in her bowels; And the heavens have smiled upon her; And she is clothed with the glory of her God; For he stands in the midst of his people; Glorv and honor and power and might Be ascribed unto our God, for he is full of

mercy Jnstice, ir~ce and truth and peace, For ever and ever, Amen."

Returning to the subject of the Sabbath School, we were placed in the 'restament. Class, and each member of the class was. given the task to memorize the Scriptures as he could the following week, commen(}ing at the second chapter of Mathew; "N ow when .T esus was born in Bethlehem of Judea," &c. I had then commenced to learn the trade and was laboring tolerably hard all day long and had only time each Ul.oruing by rising about an hour earlier! to


lLIFE OFON~] OF I<]ARTH'S PILGRIMS. 50'1'

eommit to memory what I could of those scriptures. I .memorized a chapter each morning, Sunday mornin g included, which chap tel'S were repeated without any prompting. The Lord blessed me with a strong memory; it was very' tenacious in my youth, hut is failing me very much now.

The preaching meetings were held in the grove, a stand for the speaker being planted on the lower side, so that when he stood up each individual of the congregation was discernable. There was no house in the city large enough to hold the congregations. The temple walls were just even with the top of the ground, and what were called the lower bulPs eves, or basement windows, were about half formed when we first landed there. When the first storv walls above the basement of the temple were about half laid, the joists were laid, boards fora temporary floor laid thereon, upon which temporary seats were placed, a stand erected at the east end, and meetings were held in it.

Sometimes the conferences, and large meetings on special occasions, were held in a grove half a mile east of the temple, tbe northern edge of whicb bordered on Young Street. There is where we heard the last sermon preached by the martyr, {Jommonly called King Follet's funeral sermon, wherein the speaker established, to the mind.s of thinking men and women, that our spirits formed within us, or in ;()ther words, intelligences, never were, and nevercouid he, created. It was estimated that ten tbousand persons were un the ground listening, or trying to listen, to the discourRe. One little incident whieh to my youthful mind was somewhat amusing, occurred while Joseph was speaking on this occasion, which I thougbt then I never should forget; and our aged 'Sister Landers told the writflr recently that she was sitting clORe by and witnessed the same. The speaker was standing at the west end of the platform, and the writer. then about sixteen years old, was standing about four feet from the end of it. On the end of the board made to hold the books of the speaker-which was ten or twelve inches wide, running the whole length of tbe stand- was a pitcher -of water and a tumbler. The speaker having a fashion, when about demonstrating a point, of bringing his hand down on • he board quite heavily, did so on this

occasion. The pitcher trembled for an instant and fell over at the wrIter's feet, spIaslling the water over them and his lower limbs. The speaker, hearing the noise of the breaking of the pitcher, turned half round and looked down over his right shoulder at the fragments, all the time keeping up the thread of his disconrse in a high key of voiee,-:whieh he had to do to make that congregation hear,--and said, without any parenthetical sign whatever, "And I have broken the pitcher." 'Vhat amused the writer was the wonder· ment he thought would take possession of the minds of tbe great numbers listening, and who knew nothing of tIle breaking of the pitcher, as to what connection that sentence bad with his subject.

It was at the last mentioned pbee that we heard Elder S. Rigdon, when he came from Pittsburgh, immediatply after the death of Joseph and Hyrum, to try to establish his claims to the leadership of the church, make his defpnse of the position taken by him on that question. He claimed, by virtue of his being Senior Counselor to the prophet,-and to our minds it looked plansibJe,-that it was his right to lead the church until the time that the Lord should appoint a successor to the prophet. I should have acceded to his proposition on my own part, had I not thought th:1t he was under COlldemnation for'-the open violation of the revelations of God to him, one of which was that he should not remove his. family to Pittsburgh, but let them remain in Nauvoo; and that for a wise purpose in the liord, who promised to heal his family of their sickness if this was acceded to. Yf e were at the trial of Elder Rigdon when Joseph preferred a charge against him for

. neglecting to act in his offioe and oalling of Counselor to the President of the Church; and the President gave as his reasons for preferring the charge, that Elder Rigdon had been very det'elict in his duty as Counselor and had not acted in that eapacity for some time, and that he did not want a Counselor to him in name only, but tbat he wanted the benefit of the counsel of a man set apart to that calling, which he had not received from Elder Rigdon. And for these reasons he thought it high time to shake him off from such position. Brethren Hyrum Smith, William Marks and Almon Babbit plead. ~d for mercy in behalf of Brother Sidney .


508 LrFE OF ONIl1 OF EARTH'S PILGRIMS.

Sidney arose and while the tears ~olled down his checks, that he had not been as faithful as he oug-ht to have been in his calling, and pl~aded, as a partial extenuation, sickness in his family; and he asked and promised to be more the discharge of his du-tv in the futul'(". He stated that it had been reported that he was about to apostatize, that he was his former testimony concerning the of the prophet Jo-seph, but instead be bad in bis own family an additional evidence of the calling of the man hlessed and ordained of God to open this last dispensation of the gospel. The evidence refArred to was in substance as follows: His daughter Nancy had a very severe spell of sickness, was reduced very low, and finally, to the judgment of all who witnessed oeeurrenee, died; alld, through the of faith, aud the ad-ministration ordinance of the house of God her life had been restored. So instead of he was more ly rooted in the faith than ever. The conclusion was, that Joseph said that he was to stilI retaiu him, if he would act in his office; and it was voted to sustain Sidnev nnder said conditions. But he remo~ed his family to Pittsburg some time before the prophet's death. I remember the steamboat's coming to the foot of Main Street, south of the Mansion House, "W here Joseph lived"which was not common for steam boats to do, those of very light draft, or in a high of waterj-and that a number Saint" were in attendanee, conspicuous among whom were Joseph and Hyrum Smith and their families, who walked down with Sidney and family to the steamboat's gang plank, and then shakiIlg hands bade them adieu.

There was a remark made by Young when Sidney eame fro~ to claim the leadership of the church, that was characteristie of the man, although at that time it was a revealment to myself, I

formed a better opinion of him. After Rigdon had made his three or four of the Twelve spoke, Pratt taking the lead. Their remarks were principally made in favor of the claims of the Twelve to ' and in try-

to lower the character of . Marks spoke, rather

don's claim, and the story

Yarks had apostatized. Brigham Young arose, and after speaking a few words sar

referring to Sidney, said, "I have been lying low for dueks." I shall

the tboughts suggested by HOlI1i1.r1'c. ahd the feeling of disgust en

the same. The thoughts. had bee]] premeditating and

the leadership, and had been in secret for it, and

came in sight, or his unholy conllect~d

as revealed, justify the v~"U",~" vVell might the Seer have

"If Brigham Young ever lead .. he will lead it to hell."

at the [I think] Semi-annual in the fall of when Elders Addison Pratt, I3. F. and Hanks were set for their mission to the Society and re-member how my boyish was en-listed in their behalf. of their

80 far from home w.ith all its> ende:uments, to be gone so as the mission would indicate, and to be "10,)<1"<1"1"_

ed from the society of the I thought, these men show their their works! Some of the love that actu~ ated their Master to leave the glory he had with the Father and take him our nature to aecomplish the of the fallen race of Adam, must have actuated them, to leave all they held dear. and go so far to teach the benighted sons, of men of that Savior's love manifested toward them in his sufferings and death; and to tell them the plan of that redemp· tion established by him by obedience to' which they might secure their salvation.

There was preaching Sunday tbat the weather was favorable out-door services, but I have not the re-c"llection of the subjects 01' effects of the preaching, only on exceptionaloeeasions. The principal occasions were when B. Young, H. C. Kimball, or others of the Twelve, would harangue the people on the subject of building the temple~scoring the poor laborers and mechanics, who sometimes eould enough to" eat to have strength to they uttered a word of sometimes ad-monish the Saints to in tlleir tithes and offerings into the that the 1ab01'ers might have snfficient to per-form their work, all of what


LEA Vl<:S FROM PALESTINE 5&9

was pending, viz., that the Lord had de-creed a time f6r the to be finished, and if not finished at time that the church would be with tileir dead; and again try to them by tell-ing the great were in store for them if all was completed according to the mind of the I,ord. One sermon J heard preached Amasa Lyman, I think in the spring of 1843, the gen-eral run of which was enstamped on my memory, and is as fresh to-day as then; and I suppose why is becau8e it was new to I could not but endorse it, for reasonable. It was as follows: the Lord never had a people upon the earth at anyone time since the creation of man but what he revealed his will to them, and they were not dependent upon revelations given to a former people; that the revelations to each people were more binding upon them than those given to other of former generations; that in of judgment each would be the wonl given speeially to rather than by that given to oth-'ors; that aU would be judged by the pel, for that was the revealed will of to all, for it was the groundwork of salvation to all generations in all dispensations; that tllere were local circumstances in one dispensation, differing from those of another, which required local laws dif-

to the circulllstances, and the revealed will, of

those laws, as he is the All instances: Noah was

placed a' people who had so corrupted their lvay before God that he conchided to • all flesh of man except Noah and his family, whom he had found righteous in hi~ sight, and commanded Noah to build an ark, that he and his fam-ily not be destroyed with the rest of If N o all had refused to do as the Lord had commanded him he would not only have been destroyed in the flood, bU1; would have been condemned in j udgment hi" God as a rebel to'his cause. Abraham was commanded to go out from the house of his father into a land, and told that thel'e the Lord make of him a nation. Had he refused to go according to the command of the Lord, we 'would have had no history of the Ismelitish race contnining the dealings of God with that people, and Abraham would have been judged as a rebel to God's law revealed to him. In short, he said that those to whom the revelations in the Bible were given, would be judged

them more particularly; the inhabitants of America to whom the word of God came, as contained in the Book of Mormall, would be judged more particularly by that, and tl1eLatter Saints by the revealed word given to them.

To be eontinued~

LEAVES FROM PALESTINE.--No. IV.

JAFFA, Palestine,

MRs. 1\:1. WALKER; July 17th, 18::;8.

Dear SiI5fer in the Faith:

IN compliance with the promise made you some time since, we find ourselves

this lovely summer morning en route for Jerusalem, the city of the Great , and as we remember whose feet have passed over this same route in the centuries

vanished and almost unwritten of, there comes over us a feeling of solemnity, almost of awe, as though we should loose our shoes from off onr feet, for the ground is holy. This is subdued, however, as we take in the sights and sounds

flO common to the dwellers in modern Palestine, and we ourselves to take in fully every of interest which shall meet us upon the way, and to the best of our ability the readers of "Autumn Leaves" pen of the same.

As we ride through the orange groves of Jaffa the tl'ees are hanging full of delicious oranges, and also full of blossoms, which Bcent the air with their perfume for miles. At evening, just after sunset, even in the city of Jaffa, the aroma is borne on the air and reaches us in our dwellings in the heart of the city. From this you can


510 LEAVES JmO~r PALESTINE.

imagine how powerful it must he when riding through the midst of whieh line some two miles of the road. As you go to Jerusalem, on the left of the road is a fountain with several large sycamore trees in front, and a few cypress trees behind. This is pointed out as the Tomb of Dorcas, or the house where she was raised from the dead.

Emerging from the the Plain of Sharon is entered; it extends from Jaffa to Cresarea, and from the central hills to the Mediterranean, and is the northern extremity of the Sephela. In Bible days it was eelebrated for its fertility aHd its fine pasturage; and now it produees grass and flowers in profusion, and is capahle of much better cultivation than it gets at the present time. The wheat that I saw growing on the plain was at least two feet high, and nearly ripe. It is interesting to remember that this has heen the thoroughfare to Jerusalem in all age;;. The materials for the temple were all carried along this Toad; prophets and apostles have ridden across this flowery plain, and the feet of myriad Crusaders have trodden it. It has heen sung in the poetry of sorrow and joy; the voice of despair has eried: "The earth mourneth and languisheth; Lebanon is ashamed and hewn down; Sharon is like a wilderness." But the voice of hope has been heard, saying: "The wilderness and the solitary places shall be glad, ... the excellencv of Carmel and Sharon. thev shall see the" glory of the Lord and th~ excellency of our God." '1'he Rose of Sharon is said to grow on this plain, but I fail to find that particular rose that King Solomon spoke about in his song The is covered in winter with all kinds of flowers,-sucl1 as the narcissus, meadow saffron, anemone, lilly, aspho-del, Savior's blood etc.; it is also sprinkled with the wild tulip, and mallow. The greatest l)rofusion of flowers is seen in April or May, but in autumn the whole plain is like a wilderness.

Soon after entering the plain a small will be seen on the l'ight, owned

by a Jewish Agricultural School ]'Vlr. Charles a French J evv, it. He has been dea,a now six veal's. I once lived there four montbs.· It is most heautifully ; each kind of fruit is separate from the other kinds. There is an artesian well there, and the houses are

all built in tbe latest styl'e. Bcautiful' walks are arranged so that one can always; find shade in the hottest day. These al'ff made by India eane being planted on each side of the walks. This cane grows very fast. The street that leads up from the' Jerusalem road is planted 011 - each side with acacia trees, and between all the trees are rose bushes. Just to walk up· that road yon would think you were entering Paradise.

In le8s than half an hour from this spot Yawl', an old. village, is passed. It is the old sigbt of Hazor. Near this village is a well; some say it is Abraham's fountain. Here the road to I,idda branches off.

Proceeding on the direct road, fields and low hills are passed, and in about twenty milmtes Beit Dejan is passed on the left hand. It was doubtless one of the houses of Dagon, the god of the Phil~ istines.

Half an hour before we reach Ramleh., we pass a village on the hand, called Surafend, surrounded by cactus hedges; and on the left the' olive trees surround-, jng Lidda-Ramleh (this name means sand). It is wen built, with a population of five thousand, of whom nearly a third are Christians. 'I'here is a tradition that Randeh eOl'responds with the Arimathrea

,of the New Testament, where dwelt tha.t disciple who gave the grave wherein never man lay, for the burial of Our Lord, and that the La,tin Convent is on the site of the bouse of Nicodemus. There does not" however, appear to be any historical evidence for these traditions. It was here that in ancient times the great caravan route from Damascus to Egypt crossed the route from Jaffa to Jerusalem. The· town was probably of Saracenic origin,.

attributed to Solyman of the eighth century. It was a halting place of the Crusaders; and it suffered in the wars between the Franks and Saladin. In the time of the French invasion Napoleon made tbis town his headquarters. Round about Ramleh the senses are gratified with the loveliness and fragrance of gardens and orchards; but the sights and smells encountered on the narrow streets take away the pleasure of alL Opthalmic

caused partly from the sand that sweeps the narrow lanes and paTtly from filthy habits of the peo-ple, rage among the inhabitants. There are a few soap factories in Ramleh, hut


r,gA YES FROM P ALE:lTINK 511

the people do not seem to patronize them. There are churches, convents, mosques, and minarets; and the sisters of the Latin Convent have built a nice school-house for orphans, which is almost the first building you come to as you are entering into the town. The old tower just outside of the village, is quite interesting. It withstands all the ravages of time. No one knows bv whom it or the ruined buildings ar01{nd it were built. Some say that it was a mosque built by the founder of the village; others, that it was a khan; and others, that it was a Christian church built hy the Crusaders. l'he architecture is clearly Saracenic, and an inscription assigns its origin to a :Moslem chieftain; but this insoription no doubt was put on bv the Moslems, ani! the tower is not their ,york. rrhe tower is square, and of great beauty. I went to the top, one hundred and twenty well worn but safe steps. The view from the top is very fine. The whole plain of Sharon, from the mountains of Judea and Samaria to the sea, and from the foot of Cannel to the sandy deserts of lies out like all illuminated map; heautiful and as vast and diversified as beautiful, the eye is fascinated, the imagination enchanted; especially when the last rays of the setting sun light up the white villages which sit or hang upon the many-shaped declivities of the mountains. You can. see Ashdod, Askelon, Gath, also Gaza in the south, and to Cffisarea in the north, and from the Mediterranean on the west to the mountains of Samaria on the east. When I camc down from the tower I went into the underground houses, which I call the cave-dwellers' houses, as they have a hole at the top of each room that shuts with a stone, so that one would hardly notice it at a little distance; but having read some time ago about them I saw that these were the same the description of them. I went into rooms all in a row, the doors all opening from one into the other. It. was interesting to think of, as they are yet so perfect after so many long years-; even the niches in the wallg for the lamps are there yet. No vandal hands have marred only their doors are all gone, like the people who once inhabited them. There are more at Gaza, and

I may get a chanee to see them hut I left those at Ramleh with regret.

A few minutes after Ramleh a

burial ground is crossed, and away to the left is seen Gimzu, the ancient Gimzo, taken from the Israelites hv the Philis-

in the time of Ahaz. I~ about three quarters of an hour from Ramleh a small village is passed 011 the named Bareh; and beyond this, in about an hour,. a viilage near the road on the left, calledEI-Cubab, with a Moslem population of about four hundred. Like many of the villages here about it is on a hill and is surrounded with a cactus hedge.

A few rods beyond the village, and before descending the hill, we stop to take a view over the valley of Ajalon, where that wondrous 80ene occurred (Joshua 10: 12) when Joshua eommanded the sun to stand still np<m Gibeon and the moon in the Valley of Ajalon-"and the sun stood still, and the moon staid until they were avenged of their enemies." Ajalon, (Yalo,) was a citv of the tribe of Dan.

From "this spot can he seen the two Betldlorons to the left, in a north westerly direction; and the site of Gezer on the right. There are extensive ruins of this place, which was a Canaallitish royal city on the south-west horder of Ephraim.

In addition to these two places is the~ route which the Amorite kings took to Makkedah, and the cave whr:lre they were hid.

After descending the hill, the valley of A'jalon is crossed on the way to the village Latrun, (or robber as the name means), ahout three quarters of an hour from Kubab. It is OIl a hill to the right of the road. There are a few ruins and eisterns of very recent date. It is the traditional native place of Dimas, the penitent thief. The legend says that Jesus was in early life associated with the imc

penitent thief; and when :Mary and Joseph fled into Egypt with the Holy ehild, and passed this way, the two thieves fell upon them and demanded a heavy baeksheesh for ransom. But Dimas, touched with the grace of the divine child, protected him from the brutality of his accomplice. This incident, it is said, was remembered on the crOSEl, when the thief threw himself on the protection of the Savior. There seems reason to believe tbat Latrun may be identified with Modin of Maccabees, so often referred to in the Apocraphal book recording the struggles of that renowned Here the deputy of Antiochus set up the idol altar,


LEAVES FROM PALESTINE

.and called upon the Jews to come and worship, when old Mattathias and, his five sons hurst upon the scene, scattered the idolators, and fied to the hills. On this mound wm'e buried Mattathias 11nd his son, the renowned Judas Maceabeus, the Lion of ,Judah, and other~ of the As .. monean hmilv.

Near Latrui't is the village of Limwas, or Emmaus, (not the Emmaus of St. Luke's gospel), with the ruins of a ehurch, and a fountain which is said to have had almost miraculous propcrties for healing all manner pf diseases. This small was an important town in ancient times. Here .T UdM Maccabeus gained a victory .over Gorgias, The Roman genera! Varus burned the eity in A. D. 4. It was rebuilt. ;in A. D. 220, by .Tulius Afrieanus, and bv him named Nicopolis. It is utterly in~'p.ossible to reconoile this Amwas. or Emmaus, with the town of tl1at name in the gospel, although curiously enough it was regarded as that site for nearly ten centuries. This town and Beit Nuba, a little ,to the north, are p1'Ominent in the story ',of Richard Coeur De Leon's last weeks in 'Palestine, before coneluding a peace with Saladin.

One hour from Latrun, passing Bir Eyyuh (.Job's well), and DeiI' Eyyub (Job's Convent), we arrive at the foot of the mountains at a place eaned Bab-elwady, (the cloor or elltraJ;lCe to the valley).

After stopping two hours we went on toward Jerusalem. We pursue our eourse along the vVady Alley, a narrow, steep, winding defiie, where on every hand hill rises upon hill, gray, bald, and rugged, Furze and heath, aud a profusion of wild flowers grow among the rocks; but trees are stunted and spare. In other part~ adjacent, desolation reigns supreme. Not a blade of grass or a leaf of tree to be seen. A wild region such as you might look for in Iceland; so desolate that one wraps their clothes close around them as if it ought to be cold; so desolate that one feels lonely-not a sign of life in view. At the top of this mountain, the first of the mountains of Judea, there is a fine view of the sea, J arra, Ramleh, the Plain of Sharon, and the sandhills of the coast. Near. this on the right, in a large olive grove, is the small village of Saris.

In an hour from Saris we came to the village of Abou-gosch, :named after a

notorious robber, who, with his relations equally robbers with himself, were the terror of the neighborhood, and especially of travellers. On one oecasioll it is said they fell upon a band of Franciscan Monks, and stifled them to death in an oyen. They were transported about forty years ago; but their descendants are 11\ the land, as although the government of Turkey has sold the village to a Christian Jew, named Berghime, one of his sons was murdered only two years ago; no doubt one of the descendants of the robbers. The former name of this village was a much pleasanter one. It was Kury et-el-Euab, or the town of grapes; and this is comparatively a recent IULme for it, as in the far away time it was Kirjathjearim, the city of woods. Kirjath-jearim was one of the four oities of the Gibeonites on the north boundary of Judah, and the ,southern one of Benjamin. U rijah the prophet was born here. After the exile this was one of the ancient cities again inhabited. The prineiple event narrated in Scripture about Kirjath-jearim will be remembered with interest here, It was here that David brought the ark of God. "And it came to pass that while the ark of God abode in Kirjath-jearim, that the time was long; for it was twenty years, and all the house of Israel lamented after the Lord." A t the end of that time, "David gathered all Israel together, from 8ihor or Egypt even unto the entering of Hamath to bring the ark of God to IGrjath-jearirn. "

As one approache8 the village he must settle in his mind on some house in the hills as the starting plaee. N eve:r was there such a day in the picturesque village before. It was a day to he remembered; for it waH the beginning of Israel's glory. No wonder therefore that David and all Israel played before t.he Lord, and DaVId daneed and sang psalms, and all kinds of music. Perhaps as the vast proeession moved down the steep hill the refrain of this song might have been heard, Ps. 132: 6-8:--"Lo we heard it at Ephrata, we found it in the fields of the woods. We will go into his tabernacles, we will worship at his footstooL Arise, 0 Lord, into thy rest; thou and the ark of thy strength."

ABIGAIL YORK ALLEY. To be Continued,


PAPA'S LETTER.

I was sitting in my study, writing letters, when I heard: «Please, dear mamma, Mary told me mamma mustn't be 'stnrbed,

But I'se tired of de Kitty; want some ozzer to do. 'W ritin' letters, is 'on, mamma? tan't I write a letter too?"

"Not now, darling, mamma's busy; run and play with Kitty, now." "No, no, mamma; me wite letters-tan if'ou will thow me how." I would paint my darling's portrait as his blue eyes searched my mce; Hair of gold, and eyes of beauty, form of childish, witching grace.

But the eager face was clouded, as I slowly shook my head, Till I said, "I'll make a letter of you, darling boy, instead." So I parted back the tresses, from his forehead, high and white: And a stamp, for sport I pasted, 'mid the waves of golden light.

Then I said, "Now little letter, go away and beal' good news;" And I smiled, as down the staircase clattered bud the litt'le shoes. Leaving me, the darling, hurried down to Mary, in his glee.

'''Mamma writin' lots oflettersj-I'se a letter,

Noone he9~Td the little pI'attler, as he once more climbed the stairs; Reached his little cap and tippet, standing on the entry chair. No one heard the front door open; no OIle saw the golden hail' As it floated o'er his shoulders, in the crisp October air.

Down the street the baby hastened till he reached the office door. "1'8e a letter, Mr. Postman, is there room for any more? Cause dis letter's doin' to papa-papa lives with God you knowlYiamma sent me for a letter; does 'ou fink at I tan doe I"

But the clerk in wonder answered: "Not to-day, my little man." "Den I'll find an ozzer office, tause I must doe if I tan." Fain the clerk would have detained him, bnt the wistful Hwe was gone, And the little feet were hast'lling, by the busy crowd swept on.

Suddenly the crowd was parted; people fled OIl left and right, As a of maddened horses at that moment dashed in No one saw the baby no one saw the golden hair; Till a voice of frightened sweetness Tang out on the Autumn air.

'Twas too late! A moment only stood the beauteous vision there; Then the little mce lay lifeless, covered o'er with golden hail'. Reverently they raised my darling; brushed away the curls of gold; Saw the sta,mp upon the forehead, growing now so cold.

And a smile played o'er his features-was his errand then complete? Had the letter gone to papa, on the oilove so fleet? Not a mark the face disfigured, showing where a foot had trod, But the little life was ended -"papa's letter.' was with God.

Next, November, limping, battered, Blinded in a whirl ofleaf;

Worn of want, and travel-tattered, Next, November, limping, battered; Now the goodly ships are shattered,

Far at sea, on rock and reef. HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON.

Selected.


The meal unshared is food unblest: Thou hoard'st in vain what love should spend;

Self-ease is pain; thy only re~t Is labor for a worthy end.- Whittier.

SISTER WALKER:-I send a good receipt for milk bUBcuits.

4 pounds of 2 ounces cream of tartar, ounce of soda, 8 ounces of butter and lard mixed, and a spoon full of salt, a tomato can full of milk.

The flour can be prepared and laid away, one pound used at a time. This should be mixed well and rolled about one and a half inches thick and cut into round cakes. Bake 20 minntes. The cutter should open at both ends, as the suction effects the dongh. I use a tin box with the end out. Yours,

SISTER HARRISON.

FRAZEE, April 14th. DEAR SrSTERS :-As hORSe-cleaning time has

arrived, and therefore quilt,'! and comforts, also many other needs to be I will tell you of a very easy way to wash them. Fill your boiler half full of cold water ; shave up nearly half a bar of soap;' then put the dry clothes into this and put it on the stove and let them boil hard for 15 or 20 minutes. While boiling stir often with a stick. Have cold water in your tub; take out, suds up and down withlyour hands to get the dirty boiling suds out, then rinse in a clean bluing water and they are to hang up to dry. I have washed my white clothes this way and they look very nice. If we learn all the easy methods of work we will have more time to read and and instruct our children. Try this plan' of wa.shing,,:an,d I know you will be delighted with the result. Your sister,

ELLEN ALBEHTSON.

~~A~"L>r.,+ of snch an amount of labor sav-ed as method offers, certainly entitles it to a trial.-ED.

Sister J. Wood wishes to tell the sisters that in much labor can be saved by kerosene in the proportion of one tablespoon full to each bucket of water t1)l' both the rub-

and boiling suds, adding to the latter a litShe also recommends a

nraceta and white wax, each about the size of a pea, added to starch while boiling.

CLEANIXCl ,VALL PAPER.

Cut into portions a loaf of bread twO' days old; must neither be newer or staler. With one of those pieces, after having blown off" all the dust from the paper to be cleaned means of a pail' of bellows, at the top of the room, holding the crust in the hand, and lightly downward with the about half a yard at each stroke, until the upper part of the paper is completly cleaned all around. Then go round again, with the like

stroke downward, always commenceach successive stroke a little higher than

the upper stroke extended, till the bottom be This operation, if carefully perform-

will frequently make very old paper look almost equal to new. Great caution must be' used not any means to ruh the paper nor to attempt cleaning in the cross or horizontal way. The dirty part of the bread, too, must be continually cut away, and the renewed as soon as may become necessary.

To take grease stains out of wall paper, mix day with water to the consist€ncy

laying it onlthe spot and Jetting it remain until the following day, when it may be removed with a pen-knife or brush.

CREAM AS FOOD AND lVIEDICINE.

Persons consumptively inclined, those with feeble digestion) aged people and those inclined to chilliness and cold are ,,~!),,<.;uu· ly benefited by a liberal use of sweet cream. No other article of food or medicine will give them results equally satisfactory, and either as' a food or medieine it is not bad to take., As an antidote for a tendency to it acts like a charm, and serves all the purposes intended to be served by cod-liver oil with much greater certainty and effect. Where sweet cream can be had, cod-liver oil is never needed.

Ordinary newspapers are very impervious to cold. If apples are to be during winter, line the barrel with two thicknesses of paper, and the rarely fi'eeze if properly protected.


BY LOSS COMES GAIN.

BY RU'l.'E:.

"God gave thee life to use For His IlTeat not thine: And, if the cup bitter wine, Shrink not nor dare He k!lOWS thy thy pain-Sad hfe! Thou not vain."

QFTEK, when the trials of life are many G and hard to be borne; when care comes to sup with us and be our guest, when the heart aches with longing and the eyes fail with watching for the things that never corne, we questiou our sadness, "vVhy am I thus chastened? Why must I live in the shadow when others are basking in the sunlight of prosperity? Why must I go my way in loneliness, and others in light-hearted companies, their lives lighted and warmed by friendship and love?"

But the answer comes to us, when we remember that life is granted to us for the of the desig:ns of a loying who purgeth the ~ frnitful branch that it may bring forth more fruit.

back to the days of childyouth, and cdntrasts our

present station in life, our friends and pleasures, our aspirations with the apparent ones of some of the comp~nions of those days, and we seareh for the little hinges on which have turned the gates that ushered us into such widely different fields; for

"Simple and lowly have a part in Nature's plan."

The little things we meet eaeh clay, the little we faithfully perform or care-

are the great causes whose ,Ye see, later, in the character of

each individuaL As the stone on the mountain-side may turn the course of the

stream that afterward becomes a for strength, so the influences that,

childhood and youth, may seem but weak and trifling, will prove in after years to be the power that shaped the course of human lives. We refer here to the influence of early principles. "Even a child· is known by his doings" is true, and to "Remember thy Creator in the days of t outh" is a wise command.

v is it that some lives seem to be all sun"shine, and others all shadow? Why are some full of ease and comfort, ancl

others full of care? Is it because the same the same opportunities, the same causes for joy or pain do not meet all? To some extent, surrounding circumstances may be the cause of the difference; but, in character lies the prime difference. There are those who leave the line of

when the path becomes rough, and a smoother way for their feet. Some

do not take care to themselves, do not deny themselves anything that will

at the present time. the things that gratify

8e8. there are those who themselves of many things which,

a selfish happiness for a not be productive of real

good to others. There are those for the Spirit's deep wisdom, are to endure the scorn of men, and their secret souls they may wear the rose of they wear in man's the crown of thorns. The e1' has a merrY, careless chooses such i life, and the earnest toiler for others has the cares and weariness of lahor because he chooses it. The difference is in character.

Since God gave us life to use for His let us look carefully at our

and see if our principles are such as are calculated to urge us on to our

vYhen we accept ty, great or small, let us be discharge of it; for by so we make faithfulness· one of our attributes. It hecomes a part of the character, and when this life with its and gayety, its griefs, its cares its joys have passed away, there remains to us the only thillg we shall have from earth-life-the characters we formed.

Then, if we have loved virtue and gain-ed know if we have practiced tem-

and clothed ourselves for all men, if

such are the characters we developed, we shall go forth to meet the future richly dowered; if the opposite he the case, though earth has laid her richest treasures at our feet, though we may have revelled in "all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave," we shall fjnd ourselves stripped


516 BY LOSS COMES GAIN.

of our pride, om power and our glory, and we shall with remorse, our own lack of principle and weakness of character.

We all love the springtime; the youth o~ the year and the springing grass, buddmg tree and sweet-scented blossom, bring us many all earnest thought, while they "speak to the soul from out Nature's heart." \Ve think of young lives now in their spring-young lives that are like the pure blossoms that are just opening their delicate petals,-the blossoms that whiten the tree, scent the air, please the eye, and hold the germs of the fruit thai; shall be. And these young lives, these vigorous, happy young lives that gladden the homes and soften the hearts, they hold within themselves the germs of the characters that shall be.

lf sun and showers and warm south wind be not withheld, we gather in time the perfeot fruit; but how often, when it is just forming, there comes a frost-olear, beautiful, sparkling but blighting frost, and when the time of is come and the tree that gave such promise in blossoming yields us no fruit, we say the frost killed it.

Sin has entered ou]' beautiful world and longs to his icy hand upon our fairest. flowers. comes to the young, when their feet have but entered upon the jour-

we all must go, while the pages of reeord are fair and unspot,ted. He

'comes often in deceitful beauty saying, "See. I am not sin. 1'he1'e is no harm in yielding t,o this or that pleasure." As we think of the allurements that lie in wait for the innocent and inexperienced Oiles about us, we long to warn them ere the frosts of sin have blighted one leaf of the blossom, and we breath again the wish so beautifull expressed by vVm. Cullen Bryant in the following:

Innoeent ehild and snow-white flower, Well are ye paired in your opening hour; Thus should the pure and lovely meet, Stainless with stainless and sweet with sweet. White as those, leayes, just blown apart, Are the folds of thme own young heart; Guilty passion and cankering care Never have left their traces there. Artless one! though thou gazest now On the white blossom with earnest brow, Soon win it tire thy childish eye, Fair as it is thou wilt throw it, by. Throw it asIde in thy weary hour, Throw to the ground the fair white flower; Yet, as the changing years depart, Keep that white and mnoeent heart.

How many pleasures come before us, pleading their innocence. To decide this let us first ask, "Do those things tend to lead us to or from God," keeping in mind that God gave us life to use for His great

and we shall never he truly happy when we use it, for any other.

There are enjoyments that possess wonderful fascination for those who indulge, and the only safe thing to do is to soberly and quietly consider whether indulgence in these things will help us to be more like the One whose character we are to emulate if we would be fit to enter into the rest and partake of the joys prepared for those who are like Him.

Of Jesus it is written, "Though he were a son yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered." "He humbled himself and became obedient to death, even the death of the eros1'." Then must we not learn obedience if we are his followers and he our elder brother? We must choose the pure paths where He walked, and be ever studious in avoiding the things that would us from them; for, though we may be in straight and narrow way, we are not walled in, we cau at anv time leave it and wander in the dark~ess of the by-paths.

A short time since, I stood on the platform as a train, gaily decorated with flags, iiowers and green boughs, moved out from the station amid the flutter of fans, the waving of handkerchiefs, merry adieus and strains of music. At an obscure village, the j unction of two roads, I had by chance met this merry party, and among them Wei'e many who had been the playmates of my early days, the childl'en with whom I went to school. We danced about the same bonfires and played "Little Sally 'Vashman" in the same The memory of those times, the days of Auld Lang Syne, touched them as well as myself, and with smiles and extended hands we met; but, when we parted, they went t.heir way, in happy excitement, to spend God's holy Sabbath in a round of pleasure, and as I went. my own quiet way I tried to look back and find the time and place when our paths first began to diverge. As I sent memory back over the past, I found, here and there, a difference in the principles that governed us as childrensome would say a trifling difference, hut in matters of principle there are no trifles.


LATE AUTUMN. 517

'Tis little things, aye things, That the sum of "

A little girl asks another to jump rope on the Sabbath, and that she refuses on the ground that it is Sunday may be a trifling act, but the principle underlying it is momentous. It is the principle of respectful obedience to law, as the child understands it. These two children pass along together, meeting the same lurements, and if adhering to their original principles, one will accept the Sunday promenade, the Sunday drive, the Sunday picnic, and the other as steadily refuse. Time develops them into women as different in character as the principles actuating them. "His servant ye are to whom ye obey."

The ]\faster calls us now, in the mornof our day and the dew of youth, and

to each one plain duty, at least to work out in patience for himself a clean pure character. We need to look well to our footst,eps, for evil is all about us and often in most beautiful disguise. "Rome was not built in a day," "Heaven is not gained at a single bound," and we must renew each day the conflict with evil, whether we meet it in the way or find it in our own hearts. How watchful, how persevering we need be!

To the thoughtful, the earnest, who seek first to establish the kingdom of God contentment and peace will come, while those mistaken ones who have "drank often, deeply drank" at the fountain of this world's pleasure, at the close of life will be still unsatisfied, destined to long and thirst until they obey the of the Son of God and give to the boul the only thing that can give perfect peace and rest, the means designed by the Creator

to make happy the beings he has created. To obey the gospel does not mean as

some seem to think that we are to be obedient to the extent that we comply with the law so far as to be numbered among the Saints on earth. "I will have a tried people." There were thorns for the Savior's brow; there are thorns for each and all of us. He had a life-work; you and I may not be idlers. Some of us doubt as to what we are called to do, but there is a field of labor open to us, one that calls for attention and one that we may not neglect with impunity. It is the conquest of self, the greatest work of all, the subjugation of our own hearts that are so prone to evil. "We must fight out the battles of life; we must press onward though we be weary, we must suffer if we would We must drink the cup the Father's shallcfill for us, and though the wine may be bitter, through obedience we shall learn 'twas sent in love. Then shrink not nor da.l'e refuse; fear to rebel against infinite love and infil1ite wisdom. There come times when the idols our ignorant hands have set up are thrown down, but while we mourn let us remember,

'''Tis not with angry stroke but kind The sculptor hews the marble stone; His blows, their scars, if we but mind, But the angel there confined An from the shapeless stone."

So bv our trust in God, our faith in his love, o{u patience and obedience, let us work with Him to "loose the angel" in these stony hearts. I,et us bear the blows and their scars when H{' in his wisdom sees they are necessary, for "the gem can not be polished without friction, nor man perfected without adversj,ty."

LATE AUTUJYIN.

The yellow leave" are falling fast, The sunshine of the year is pas~, And gentle autumn to brmg God's time of rest to

The woodbine-wreaths, no gay, Droop idly from the hedges gray; The fern hath laid his withered plume Above the violet's mossy tomb.

But where the fuithful ivy clings, Hark how the cheery robin sings

His welcome to thc winter-tide, Though all the birds are mute beside!

Our Life's bright pa~ses, tDO, With dreams like of every hue, 'With woodland song whose music sweet Returning springs can ne'er repeat.

But still joys for us remain; I~ife's work not been done in vain, Though oft its burden sorely prestAnd autumn is God's time of rest.-Sel.


D~IF1Jll-WOOD.

The threads our hands in blindness spin, No self-determined plan weaves in; The shuttle of the unseen powers Works out a pattern not as OUl'S.- Whittier.

UNCLE POMPEY'S SLIDE DOWN

THE ROOF.

"Ha, ha, ha! Go 'way dar! J es' look! Ha, ha,ha!"

"As Aunty Flora in partial uniform, down toward the quarters of the hands on the old sugar plantation, she rested her hands on her hips, tipped back her head, and vigomusly.

"rse jined de rae a cur-det! I'sea cur-det!" sang out this hopping youth. "1'se jined de pledge!"

"Ha, ha, hal" laughed Aunty Flora again. "Dat am good!"

Uncle Pompey came out of the family cabin, and stared suilenly at his and shook his head

"Tem-p'rance!" he groaned. "Dunno 'bout dis yer!"

The new member of the Cadets of Temper-ance was so elated by the reception that Aunty Flora gave he did not notice Uncle Pompey's gloomy mce. The bump of approbativeness may be to be as large, when found on a head that inhabits a sugar plantation, as desire for applause was only Aunty Flora's cordial appreciation of his temperance stand,1tnd finally he turned to Uncle Pompey. He only saw a frown, just a sullen face. Abe could not understand it. Such reception was like the experience of a young mariner making his first voyage, who starts in the golden "Sunshine, and run~intoagray, chilling fog-bank.

"Dunno what dat fur I" reflected Abe. He did not know, though, his uncle's habits

very thoroughly, as he had recently come to live on the sugar plantation. 'He soon found (lut the reason for that frown. Uncle P~~y,~n was not a soldier in the temperance armv. He belonged to the sad, dark army of Drink. He was not a cadet in those ranks, a young ner, but an old campaigner.

"Dnnno!" exclaimed the Cadet of ance. "'Pears to me I ought to say suffin to him."

What to say, 'when to say it, was a puzzle to the young cadet. That a temperance boy ought ill the right way to express his opinion, seemed to be the proper thing; but how and when?

One day, Abe saw Uncle Pompey on the roof of his cabin. The roof needed mending. At Aunty Flora's urgent reqllest, Uncle Pompey had gone up to the roof, not by any means to mend it, but to make a careless examination.

"I'll look roun' sort ob easy. Dat will be nuff," was Uncle Pompey's thoqght. He had just been a of whiskey, and it had confused his ideas of duty. Whiskey is equal to any amount of moral confusion. Abe saw Uncle Pompey lift glass.

"I'll take Uncle on de ruff," was the stern resolution of the cadet.

"Uncle Pomp, don'--don' ye want to jine de pledge?" said an voice behind Uncle Pompey's broad shoulders. Such a look of scorn as that now his features!

"Boy I" growled the fond uncle. "De pledge am fur dose who hasn't 'nuffsense to stop, but I-I-ken stop! Don' need a pledge."

"\Vii! ye stop?" was the cadet's bold interro-gation. "Folks dat a-goin' hab a hard time a-lea bin' off. Like down dis yere ruff!"

"Dis yere ruff!" said Uncle in dis-dain, "When I down dis ruff an' can't stop, I'll take it as a an' jine yer pledge, not afore! Dis yere ruff!" he said again in contempt.

That roof with its slight did not seem formidable, and was the drink habit to be dreaded?

Uncle Pompey fumed like a soda-fountain. "Jes' wish," he mumbled, "dose temp'rance folks would leab fus'-class people alone. Let 'ern talk to de rice han's."

Uncle Pompey, being a hand on a sugar plantation, looked down on everybody who no higher than the low rice-fields. A cold water pledge might do for such moist latitudes.

"Down dis yere ruff!" he growled again. "Who am ateared ?"

He triumphantly glared down on the bold cadet now trundling a wheelbarrow before the cabin. He rolled round his big eyes and asked

"\\Tho am afeared?" "One night, though, a cold wave rolled over

the "Sunny South," and it left on the cabin roof a little of its white surf, a deposit of frost.

.Flora insisted now that the roof must be mended.


GOD)J:.ADE TRIS REST. 519

"Men' dat now, Pompey'l" !echoed!lherlclear -voicelin the moming. "Cole wedder am a-comin'l We'11 be shilled to def!"

Uncle Pompey, fat and heavy, .climbed upon 'the lroof, first taking a little to offset the disagreeable effects of his labor. The frosted roof of course was slippery. soon Aunty Flora and Abe heard an awful racket above them. Were the sky and the cabin roof .and the chimney, everything, mightily tumhling down upon their heads? They rushed out of 'the cabin, eyes rolling, arms voices 'Screaming. They looked up, and there waS Uncle Pompey sliding down the roof!

"Help! help! helpl" he yelled. Then he groaned, "Ugh 1 ugh J ugh I" He was coming down feet foremost, as

a boy in a toboggan slide, but in a far diflerent frame of mind. What if he slid off upon the hard ground? It might be a fatal fall. Luckily, just as his big feet reached the eaves, they

in a slight projection, which stayed his {le'SCenL, and for a moment he was safe. What ,about the moment after?

Now the excitement was still more intBnse. Uncle Pompey could not possibly climb back; it would not do to let him tumble.

Ahe I" screamed .Aunty Flora. "Fotch from de bed ! We will hold it under

him I" sheet? Better, a blanket, thought .Abe. But where would they hold it and inter-<cept Uncle fall? What if he came down the roof? Then the blanket must be held inside. Somebody please say

where those two panic stricken souls should hold that blanket. First :flew into the cabin and then out of it, Uncle Pompey looking as though his last hour had come.

They finally concluded to hold the blanket outside the cabin and try to intercept that rolling aerolite on its way to the ground.

But who was it that rushed up, ladder in hand?

"0 Dan, Dan I" screamed Aunty Flora. "Sabe him!"

Daniel, a hand from the rice by, had seen Uncle Pompey's a ladder, and now rushed forward.

was ncar had seized

It was here that the Cadet of Temperance had a thought and voiced it. "0, Uncle Pomp! Yer said when ye got a-goin' down dat ruff and coulden' stop, ye take it as a an' jine de

'" "What?" asked Dan, a fierce cold water man

from the rice fields and who knew Uncle inflrmity. "Did yer promise? Can't hab

dis ladder until ye say ye'll jine I" Unhappy Uncle Pompey! what could he do? "Jine!" shouted Dan. "Jine!" pleaded .Aunty Flora. "Jine I" piped Abe. And Uncle Pompey said, "I'll jine!" "Now come down de ladder," said Dan. Be assured that Uncle Pompey, though a fat

man, came down that ladder in unusually quick time; and before the frost melted from the roof he had "jined de pledge."

Edward A, Rand, in Sunday School Times,

GOD MADE THIS REST.

mHE celebrated Mrs. Craik, recently de-J 1 ' ceased, is said to have had inscribed 'on the walls of her favorite room the motto, Deus base ottn fecit-"God made this rest." How beautifully expressive the words! God made the home, and it is for a place of rest.. We go forth in the morning to meet the duties of the day; we take our place in these "struggling tides· of humanity" that crowd our cities, cover 'our prairies and people the valleys of our mountains. vVherever we dwell and what<Bver our lot,-we love, we suffer, we toil, we rejoice, we mourn; for the waves of 3.ife's stream are sometimes dark and Some-

times bright. Let the day be what it may, a day of pleasure or a day of toil; a day of success, or one in which the heart has suffered from "ruined hopes and friends unkind," when the shadows of night gather, when the 11irds of the air have sought their nests and the foxes, their holes, the heart of man turns to his home, if he has one, or longs for it, if he has !lot-

"As the bird cometh back from the wild waves To her home by the shore of the sea!'

Home should be a place of is it alwavs such? Home should be a shelter fro~ the storms of life; on the contrary, is it not sometimes a place where the


520 GOD MADE THIS REST.

fiercest storms of human passion break forth? .Ab, the young and tender plants coming up in such homes, how they suffer from the blighting influences surrounding them! . \Vhat woman worthy of the name, would not be a thousand times happier alone in the world, without a home of her own than to be the mother in a home where might rules instead of right, a home where when she would "do good, evil is present." And yet, how many such homes there are where one, the mother, or it may be the father, earnestly desires to implant and cultivate certain principles in the minds of the children, while the one who should labor to the same end is either indifferent or directly opposed.

Marriage is a serious step to contemplate,but many apparently fail to see it in its serious aspect. Too many things are left for after consideration which should be considered previous to marriage. The question often arising is, Is it right to marry outside of the church? It is not forbidden we know, bnt we are told that such are considered weak in the faith. It would not matter so much what is thought of such action; but can we be strong and active in the work; can 0UI'

whole might, mind and strength be given in the service of the Lord; can we be seeking to establish the kinkdom of God in the world,-and find comfort and pleasure with those who are cold or at best but lukewarm? "If one likes the shade and another the sun; if one likes to walk, and another to run," how shall they enjoy a journey together? If one loves the gospel with all his or her heart, and the other careS for it not at all or only a little, what unity can exist there? There can not be the perfect harmony that should exist.

These things are easy to say when we are called to answer the question for another, but when we are called to act under such circumstances, how the loving heart pleads, unwilling to yield that which it holds dear.-

"Sad he.art! too tightly round thee The magic chain is coiled, And the uses of thy life are foiled,

Since this deep spell hath bound thee."

Oh that every Latter Day Saint might so love the work, be so keenlv sensitive to the "uses of life," and so a~xious to take an active part in the army of workers who are preparing for the coming King,

that he would allow nothing to tempt him from his allegiance, would not allow the love of one, to foil the uses of a life that might be a blessing to many!

vVe tell ourselves, and allow others to tell us, extravagant things sometimes. And so some one has written, and others have read and repeated it: "The light of the whole world dies when love is done." How can this be unless we are very selfish? Shall we pass by all the sweet flowers of life because one we loved has faded? Shall all the music of life fall on dull ears because one strain we loved is ended? Shall alI the love and friendship of life fall on cold hearts because we miss the love of one?

Let us turn our hearts from ourselves and think more of the welfare of those about us. There are little ones needing the tender watch care of loving hearts. TIJere are the aged too, who need the help, of the strong; and the young people, who. need kind words and encouragement and advice; and, above all, there are those "sitting in darkness," ignorant of the great light of the latter days. }fany are the duties "straight lying in our path," and, though there may be times when all seems dark, pressing forward in the right way we shall find that-

"In soothing other's pain The light of life will shine again."

In considering the advisability of marrying one not of the Faith, it would seem that we should considel' also the reasons for his being out, of the chul'ch. Why is he out of it? If it is because he does not understand the position and claims of the church, he may understand them if hewishes to investigate the matter. If he be too careless and indifferent to do so, or if upon investigation he opposes the work. his own conduct would answer the quesion of marriage in the negative.

If there are any to whom the iujunctionr "Be of one mind," may be applied, it is: to the father and mother of a family. "If the house be divided against itself," if the family government be "partly strong and partly broken," the results are soon apparent. Ina certain family of Latter Day Saints were two sons and three daughters. These all married out of the' church, and to day, of an extensive family' circle only two are in the church. If any to day are debating this question in their minds, let them remember the invitation~


FROM MALACHI TO MATTHEW 521

"If any man lack wisdo~, let him ask of God, who g~veth liberally and upbraideth not." May they seek the Lord in faith,

and so follow his guidance that in after years they may say of their homes, with grateful hearts, "God made this rest."

R-.

FROM MALAC I TO MATTHE\V.-No. VII..

BY W. R. HOUGHTON, IN "THE CURRENT."

'1J.FTER the parting of Judas and Nican/ lor, the latter exerted all his ellergies in behalf of the apostates, with th!;l view, it is thought, of proving his loyalty to the king. The capture of Judas was his lead-

object. The general, commanding the royal troops, marched against the Maccabman and engagedhattle at Capharsalama in the plain of Sharon. Nicallor was defeated and compelled to retreat to Jerusalem with a loss of five thousand men. He quartered his tI'OOPS in the citadel on Mount Acra, and soon succeeded in reoccupying the temple-mountain. Standing in the outer court of the holy place where he could observe the acts of public worship, he demanded that Judas be delivered into his hands. The trembling priests and leaders of the people protested tllat they did not know where Judas was, and, as a manifestation of their loyalty, pointed to the sacrifices daily offered in the temple for the welfare of the Syrian king. All efforts at propitiation were in vain. Nicanor stretched out his right hand to the temple and threatened that, if Judas and his adherants were not delivered up to him, he would level the building, pull down the altar, and erect on its site a temple to the Grecian Bacchus. The terrified priests, as in times gone by, took up their position between the temple and altar and invoked the aid of heaven, that the house of God should remain forever undefiled, and. that unrighteous words should never be spoken against it.

The departure of Nicanor from the temple was soon followed by an attack on a fortress held by Rhazis, a zealous patriot and elder of Jerusalem, concerning whom reports were so excellent that he was called the father of the Jews. Accusation against him having been brought to Nicanor, the Syrian, wishing to SilOW the illwill he cherished against the Judeans,

sent a detachment of troops to capture th& fortification. The enemy broke through the gates and were preparing to set tire to the tower, when Rhazis, determining toavoid the insults he would have to endUl~e at the hands of Nicanor, fell upon his sword, "choosing to die manfully;" but failing in this to effect his death, he sprang from the tower to the ground into the midst of the enemy, and rushing to some jutting rocks near by, threw himself headlong from the top of a precipice. '1'hus. did the memory of Nicanor receive an additional stamp of horror.

On hearing that ,Judas and his men were occupying the strong places near the Samaritan border the haughty Syrian resolved to fall upon them on the Sabbath day, and,. accordingly, retired to Beth-horon, northwest of Jerusalem, to await the arrival of reinforcements then on the way from the north. Judas camped at a little village called, Adasa between Beth-horon and Mizpe! on the way to .J erusalem. He was among his native hills at the foot of the pass, and knew that the occasion was one of the critical times of his life. He addressed his little army of three thousand men with strong and fitting words that marked his character. He rejoiced all by the narration of a dream in which he had seen Onias, the last blameless high-priest before the evils of the times began, whose denunciation of taking treasures from the temple, had rendered him a victim to the sacreligious jealousy of his rival in the laurel groves of Daphne. The venerable priest had appeared as il1 life,. reverend in demeanor, gentle in manners, gracious in' utterance, a model of virtuous training, and a true Judeanl1obleman. He seemed to be standing in the temple as of old, and praying for the Hebrew army and aIr the Jewish people. Suddenly in answer to his supplications there started into'


FROM MALACHI TO MATTHEW.

view the form of a majestic man, hoaryheaded, and of lofty stature; magnificent was the grandeur about the apparition. "This," said Onias, "is a lover of our 'brethren, who prayeth much for om people and our holy city. This is Jeremiah the prophet of God." The welcome visitor, as if pledging sUPl)ort, stretched forth his right hand and gave to Judas a golden sword; and in the act of presentation, added, "Take this holy sword as a gift from God, with which thou shalt wound the adversaries." The weapon was the huge broadsword of the Macedonian phalanxes, and different from that which he had taken from the dead hand of Apollonius, his . earliest foe. To the thoughts of the devout and sleeping warrior, in that silent age of expectation, well might there have appeared this vision of the "suffering servant of the Etcrnal, who had come to be regarded almost as the Patron Saint of Palestine." Fear was upon the people and anxiety upon the army on the eve of the battle, for the temple was in danger of ·8.nother defilement, and defeat would undo ap the labor and joy of the recent dedicatIOn. Intense was the agony at Jerusalem as its inhabitants gazed npon the hills ·of Beth-horon where the contending forces were making ready for decisive strokes. With his small but trusty band the intrepid Judas saw the Syrian host advance. Huge and variegated were the masses, the furious elephants snorting in the center, the horsemen hovering on the wings. ·Standing on tho memorable spot where the Assyrian host had been destroyed, where Joshua defeated the kings of Ca"naan, and where the Maccabman had gained his first victory, the irrepressible chief raised his hands toward heaven and called thus on the wonder-working God: "Thou, '0 Lord, didst send thine angel in the reign of Hezekiah, and didst destroy from the eamp of Sennacherib an hundred and four score and five thousand. Now, 0 Ruler -of the Heavens, send a good angel before us and strike terror and trembling, and with thy mighty arm may they be struck down, who have come with blasphemy against thy holy temple." The Syrian army advanced, the Pass of Beth-horon echoing with their triumphal war-songs -and the loud trumpets sounding in unison with the vocal strains. The army of Judas, on the contrary, encountered the enemy with invocation, "fighting with their

hands and praying with their hearts." The rout was complete. Nicanor fell at the beginning of the battle. When his soldiers saw that he had fallen, they threw down their arms and fied in disorder. The trumpet-call of the victorious Judas warned the people of the neighboring villages and surrounding hills to join in the pursuit, blockade the passes and cut off the fugitives. Returning to the battle-field in joy the army discovered that Nicanor had fallen in his armor. Loud was the shout and wild the exultation with which this intelligence was received, and with which, in their native tongue, they blessed the God >rho gave them the victory. The army went forth to Jerusalem in triumph, bearing amongst their spoils, as the most conspicuous trophy, the head of Nicanor and his right hand and arm, which the chief defender of his people had ordered severed from the body as it lay on the field of battle. At a convocation of the priests and people, the head and arm of Nicanor were held up before the soldiers garrisoned in the Syrian castle. Upon the fortress the head of this blaspheming general was fastened, while the hand which had been stretched in defiance "'~"HH"" the temple was nailed to the main

of the inner court on the east, known long after as the Gate Beautiful, and also, from this reminiscence, as the Gate of Nicanor. The tongue with which the insults had been uttered was taken from the head of the Syrian, and, being cut into small pieces, was thrown for the birds to devour. The battle took place on the thirteenth of the month Adar, on the day before the feast of Purim or Mordecai's Day, when the deliverance of the Jews under Esther was annually commemorated. The anniversary of "the battle was called Nicanor's Day, and thenceforth the two deliverances were remem· bered together.

After the victory of Beth-horon the Jews enjoyed a season of tranquility, during which the leaders engaged somewhat in diplomacy. Althongh Judas had been victorious in every contest with the Syrians, Save one, for seven years, and had now just achieved the crowning success of his life, yet he knew that Syria could bring army after army against his smaJl band of patriots, whom he could never render secure against further attack. The shadow of Rome had roached to Asia, aud it was


FROM MA.LA.CHI TO MAT1'HEW. 523

·deemed expedient for Israel to follow the example of other small na tions and seek >the aid of that' strong and patient enemy of Syria. It was the time when Rome was uncorrupted by empire, and great in her love of law and country. The reports that came to Judas, informed him that the Romans brought under their dominion all 'opposing isles and kingdoms; that all feared them who heard their name, for ·they had conquered kingdoms both near and far; that they displaced whom they would, and helped to a kingdom whom they might desire; that they kept amity with their friends, and had made for themselves a senate wherein many sat in ,council consulting always for the people; and that these were greatly exalted, yet none of them eVe!' wore a crown, or was ,clothed in purple .. Under the circumstauces it seemed that the most practical thing f01' Judas was to effect an alliance with Rome,since that government was fovorably disposed to every' enemy of the 'Syrian king. The ambassadors employed to conduct the negotiation were Jason, the son of Eleazar, and Eupolemus, who had previounly obtained permission of :8eleucus Eupater for the Jews to live ac.cording to their own customs. The senate received the r~presentatives in full ~assembly, and readily entered into an alli:ance, offensive and defensive, the terms of which were inscribed on two sets of brazen tablets. One set was carried to Jerusalem, ;and the other deposited among the archives at Rome. At the same time the sen;ate sent inRtructions to Demetrius Sotor, requiring that he refrain from making ,encroachments npon Judea. The farreaching policy of Rome rendered alliances with other nations the meallS of their ultimate subjugation, and with this hidden thought the senate concluded a treaty which could do no injury to them'selves, and yet might be of some advantage to the Jews. The overthrow of Syria was ;an ohject kept steadily in view hy the Iron Kingdom, and anything that would weaken Demetrius, would enhance the interests of Rome, whose enemies, her patri,otic citizens wished, never he at peace among themselves.

'Vhile the Embassadors were absent from Judea on their important mission, :and before the inRtructions of the senate had reached Antioch, the Syrian king un-

expectedly sent forward a force of twenty thousand infantry and two thousand horse, the whole of the southern army, under Bacehides and Alcimus. Marehing southward from the Samaritan boundary, they succeeded in effecting a bloody passage to the eapital of Judea, and in the month of Nisan, B. C. 163, encamped beneath the walls of Jerusalem. The people were celebrating the Passover and were necessarily unpreJ)ared for so swift a campaign. Judas hastily mustered a force of three thousand men at Eleasa, north of J'erusalem, and confronted Bacchides at BeerZath, in the Benjamite hills, the Syrian army having marched tbither from Jerusalem. The soldiers of ,Judas, lacking the patriotism of those who had won his former victories, had no desire to contend against such overwhelming forces, and all, save eight hundred, abandoned his standard. This desertion is said to have been the result of the position taken by the Pious, who opposed the liberal spirit of Judas in rela,tion to his alliance with a

power. The faithful remnant of troops in vain urged Judas to avoid the desparate encounter, bnt he encouraged them to the unequal conflict, firmly detm'mined to conquer or die. Bacchides commanding the right of his army, had drawn up his forces ill regular battle arrav. The famous trumnet of the Maccaba:;an sounded for the la;t time. The battle raged the whole day long, one wing of the Syrian army fleeing to the neighboring mountain of Azoth; but as the Judeans followed in purflllH, the other of the opposing army wheeled round opportunely, and attacked the victors in the rear. Thus beset, and the odds ~"'~L<WU him, Judas cherished as his latest utterance bis watchword before the battle, "God forbid that I should flee from them; ifonr time be come, let us die manfully for our brethren, and let us not leave behind a stain upon our honor." In the sore encounter Judas lost his life, and his men fled away; but .Jonathan amfSimon, his worthiest brothers, rescued his body from the heaps of slain, and buried the hero in the ancestral sepulcher at :l\1odin. For him there was mourning many days, all Israel lamenting and joining in the dirge that went up like that of David over Saul and Jonathan, "How is the valiant man fallen, the deliverer of IsraeL"

To be continued.


ELIJAH BANTA.

(See Frontispiece.)

ELIJAH BANTA, present counselor to Bisbop G. A. Blakeslee, and the sub

ject of this sketch, was born in Shelby county, Kentucky, on the 5th of January, 1823. His father, Peter A. Banta, who was by occupation a farmer, removed with his family to Johnson county, Indiana, in the year 1829, thus casting the fortunes of the little Elijah upon soil dedicated to freedom, and severing forever the links which might have bound him to that tem of oppression to which his native was wedded. Thus the providence of God prepared the way, making both civil and religious liberty possible. As the Veal'S advanced and choice became neces~ary, he threw off all allegiance to the creeds of men with as little reluctance as he had the ethics of slavery. Though not himself connected with any church, it was his father's custom with his family to at· tend the Presbyterian service. buring the early yeats of his life, his experiences were much like those of other boys raised on a large farm-hard work with little leisure; and sllch an amount of instruction as was to be obtained from the village schoolmaster during the late fall and winter months. In time this did not satisfy the boy, who, verging towards manhood, felt the movings of an ambition for something better, at least, if not better, something more intellectual than this. As his father was a well-to-do farmer, cuI· tivating several hundred acres of his own land, it entered the mind of Elijah that he would much rather have an education than money. Accordingly he proposed to his father that he be allowed to fit himself for the practice of law by giving him time, furnishing him means to defray his expenses, ll,nd deducting the same from his share of the estate (or that which would be his share upon his father's death). The old gentleman not being willing to grant this, the ambitious boy resolved to leave home and try his fortunes in the far west. Whittier says:

"The threads our hands in blindness No Relf~deterrnined plan weave in;"

and in the case of Elijah this found a remarkable fulfillment.

Leaving home for the purpose of better-

ing his fortunes, especially for the obtaining of a better education, he never from that day was under the instruction of any man; and the only education he received ther'eafter was obtained in the school of experience, and from that teacher whom Jesus promised to send to confirm, lead,

and direct those who obeyed his gospel, and by doing the Father's will became his disciples indeed. But to return.

'With a family who were moving to Iowa, Elijah started upon his journey, finally stopping in IJouisa county of that state; and there for the first time he heard the gospel preached. We say gospel, for' why should we call it the restored gospel, since it is the same eternal truth, co-existent with God, who is its author, and whose course is one eternal round? In this part of Iowa, George M. Hinkle was located with a small band of followers; and, upon invitation of some neighbors with whom he had formed an acquaintance, Elijah attended their meeting. Faith, repentance, baptism forthe remission of sins, and laying on of hands for t'he gift of the Holy Ghost, were the principles set forth. The earnest sermons preached by Mr. Hinkle' so moved upon his heart that he was led to search the Scriptures as he had never done before, and while thus engaged, the Spirit of God strove with him, and by means of dreams and visions, led him to humility. After being fully convinced that what he had heard preached was the truth, he resolved to obey and test the matter, whether indeed God would give him :1 knowledge for himself in reference' thereto. In accordance with this resolution, sometime in the fall of· 1844, he presented himilelf for baptism, and was led into the water by Philip Maskell. "Ve give the results in his own words:

"At this time I was weighed down with a sense of own sinfulness to such an extent that seemed a burden, and with Paul I could have cried out: 'Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me?' The most terrible and gloomy forbodings oppressed me, up to the very moment of my being buried beneath the liquid wave; bnt eyer after my rising from that burial I have been able to, and do now, testify


ELIJAH BANTA.

to all men that I know baptism is for the remission of sins. Had I no evidence but my own experience I could never doubt this, and this I shall never fear to bear, either before men or angels; also that upon the laying on of the hands of the elders I received the gift of the Holy Ghost, confirming the truth of the gospel of ,Christ, even as he promised that it should, and baptizing me anew from the .crown of my head even unto the soles of my feet. At the same time the promise was made me, that when faithful my stammeriug tongue should be loosed, and be no impediment in the way of my preaching the gospeL This promise has been literally fulfilled times innumerable, as many who have heard me preach can testify; as they can also testify that when not blessed by the Spirit I have stammered through a few sentences and been, to my own mortification, compelled to sit down.

Up to this time I had never heard of the Book of Mormon. of the rise of the church; but h~d heard the gospel preached, with the promise, 'the signs should follow the believer.'

"Not long after my uniting with the <church Elder Hinkle wcnt east; and upon his return he informed us that he had united with the faction of the original church, which llad followed the fortun8S of Sidney Rigdon. Elder James Blakeslee came with him, and from his preaching I first learned of the existence of the Book of Mormon, and found that I with the rest was expected to believe it and accept it as it revelatiqn from God. This I was not prepared to do; for never having heard of the book, I had not accepted it as a part 'of my faith when I was baptized; and I was resolved that I would not accept it upon the testimony of any man, unsupported by the testimony of God. In this difficulty I took the book and retil'ed to a hazel thicket, where, kneeling down, I placed the book open, on the ground, and closing my eyes prayed earnestly to God, asking him that if the book was inspired and was what it purported to be, that when I opened my eyes I might find it ,closed; but upon opening my eyes the

book lay before me, open as I had left it. I then closed the book and again prayed, that if it was of God, when I looked at it I might find it open; but upon looking, it was closed just as I had left it. Greatly distressed and perplexed I took the book up and started for the house. Upon the way the Spirit rested upon me and said: ,y ou asked amiss?' I then left the book at the house and returned to the thicket of hazel brush, where, kneeling before the Lord I asked him, that if the book was what it was represented to be and of divine origin, that he would give me a manjfestation of the Spirit. In answer to this prayer the of God's Spirit rest-ed upon me, baptizing me, even as in confirmation; and from that hour I have never for one moment doubted the truthfulness nor divinitv of the Book of Mormon. I had not b~lieved in the divine calling of Joseph Smith, nor that he was a prophet; hut reasoning from this witness received to the Book of Mormon, I knew that if the Book was true and had been translated by the gift a~ld power of God, then Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. And for myself I never needed any other testimony of his being a prophet; for the witness which pronounced the Book of divine origin and just what it was represented to be, to my mind endorsed the divine calling of the man chosen of God to translate it, and through whom the original gospel plan of salvation was restored to the earth, accompanied by the gifts, blessings and also the testimony of the Spirit.

"In the summer of in company with Bro. Cowles I started the East, he stopping at Kirtland and I gOIng on to Pittshurg, where I arrived just after the great fire of that year. Not obtaining employment here, I went up the Allegheny River to the salt works, where failing again to obtain employment, I went on to the ir.on works and worked in them for some time; also in the lumber business or logging camps. Later in the season I came down to the coal mines at the tow;n of West Elizabeth, where I met Mrs. Emeline Campbell, to whom I was married, December 6th, 1846.

To be continued.g


OUGHT SAIN'l'S TO MARRY O1;T OF 'l'HE CHRUCH.

THIS question has often been asked us, and at times we have been pressed for a reply; and while our own views are very definite upon the subject" ,not even a shadow of doubt being mingled therewith, we do not feel like setting up a standard for anyone. It is a subject of importance so grave, results so and serious in their con8equences depend upon it, that the pen ofinspiration only could do justice to it.

If we believed the declaration of Paul to have been inspired when he said, "Be ye not llnequally yoked together with unbelievers," though fully persuaded in our own mind, we would not

, wish our opinion to be of weight with anyone any further than the reasons therefor commend themselves to the judgment of those interested. These reasons Paul has given most fhlly in a series of questions following' his plain exhortation to those whom he calls children in the gospel. They were those, whom he had begotten in the gospel and oyer whom the bowels of his love yearned.

"For what fellowship hath righteo11sness with unrighteousness? and what commuion hath light with darkness? and what concord hath Christ with Belial'? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel ?"

Dare we publish the letters which have come to us in our editorial capacity, laying bare the bleeding, festering wounds which have been inflicted by .a disregard of the futherly warning contained in this one exhortation of the apostle, we doubt if anyone would for one moment question its wisdom, not to say its inspiration, or be willing to risk the consequence~ of disregarding it. But these have come to us from crushed and bleeding hearts-hearts seeking the one word of sympathy in an extremity when it seemed to them if it came not the very stones would ery ont with a word of comfort for them in their anguish.

We do not forget that we are writing this for the young-the young whose hearts are filled with hope and loving confidence. To them the future seems so replete with sunshine and love, that there is found no room for a single thought qf doubt or distrust. Are there not however, among those same trusting ones, some at least who will be wise enough to realize that the

hearts now crushed and bleeding, once bounded with hope as vigorons and throbbed with joy as complete in its fulness, as that which chants peans of in their own souls. Kay, more than this, it was the very extent of their confidence which led them astray. Trust isgood, is God-given; but ah! .how necessary it becomes for us to know the object upon whom our trust is placed to be worthy of that trust, especially when the most important, most sac-, red covenant of life between mortals is to be entered into.

"\Ii.'bat fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness?" Even in the first step towards the consummation of such a result, is a strange mystery hinted at. How can a Saint firm in the faith of the gospel find fellowship with one opposed to it, or who, if not actually opposed". is perfectly indifferent, taking not the slightest interest in those things which should be most "ugn)C~.'H;':' to the mind and heart of a child of

the stage of fe1Iowship, there· comes communion. How can one who walks in the light, seeing things with clear eye!" find' happiness in constant communion with one walking in darkness? Will concord and harmony he the result'? or ought we not rather to expect discord to follow? Hll,rmony there can not be, and discord there must be, unless one be converted to the faith or belief of the other.

Last, bnt not least of the solem11 questions, "What part hath he that believeth with an infidel?" Did ever true love exist in the human heart without the desire that the fellowship and communion of spirit enjoyed in this world extend to the life beyond '? If' this be so, then let this question come home to your heart for an answer. There is a day and a time coming in which there will be a separation between the righteous and the wicked, between those who walk in the light of the true faith and those who walk in the darkness of unbelief. It may be objected by some, that unhappy marriages have resulted when both parties were in the church. We grant you this, for there are many things necessary beside this one of unity of faith to constitute a happy married life. All that we claim is that the advice of Paul is good, and if dieregarded, in nine cases ont of ten one of two results will follow; either the party belonging to the church will gradually assimilate to the unbeliever, OJ: will, when it


ROUND TABLE.

is too late, regret in silence and with tears of bitter penitence that he or she had not in time heeded the warning given.

'Vrra "Leaves from Palestine" we this issue begin our journey from Jaffa t.o Jerusalem, and those who will carefully read the same will obtain from these letters much information with reference to the Holy Land as it is to-day. This

. jOUTney was undertaken entirely in behalf of the readers of A1JTU~IN LEAv'"ES.

WE place with pleasure to a strong testimony from Bro. D. S. Bowen, of Independence,

Missouri, and would be glad to have more of the Same kind sent us.

WILL our friends please read the notice on inEide pages of cover. This is the last numbel' but one of the present volume.

OWING to a pressure of other matter the beginning of Sr. Eleanor's Serial has been unavoidably crowded out from this issue, but will, with-· out fail appear in our next.

WE insert in this number an article from the· pen of Sister R., and bespeak for it a careful reading.

~OlJND <9ABLE. EDITED BY SALOME.

HOur common mother rests and sings, J~ike ltuth among her garnered shea-ves i

Her lap is full of goodly things. Her brow is bright with autumn leaves.

o 'favors e~e:ry year made new! o gifts with rain and sunshine sent!

The bounty overruns our duet The fulness shames our dlscontent~

And let these altars. wreathed with Jlowers And piled with frl1its~ awake again

Thanksgivings for the golden hours, The early and the latter rain,"

It is nearing Thanksgiving, and amid all the bright and happy thoughts that corne to us at this festival, there one that seems to persistently suggest itself, and that is, girls and boys, young men and maidens, just abont the same one we spoke of when you went NIaying. While thinking over the numerous blessings the all bountiful Father has crowned you with, think a1'30 of those who are less fortunate, and after thinking, act. Suppose several of you should club together t{) make a happy Th~nksgiving for some aged cC:llple 0.1' lonely gIrl or boy, would not the chimes rmg louder that seem to peal in Thanksgiving-day all over the land? Would not your heart be happier, your step lighter for having remembered the w~dow and orphan? lTV it and . see J There 18 no plaudit so great as this, "Servant of God, well done." So let us do it "in His name" and "till lIe €lomes!'

The Studeut's Society of Lamoni have formed into bands of tens to do good, each band selecting their own leader and working under their instruction. One ten to visit, help and comfort the aged. This was suggested by a plea in our

local paper from an aged sister who spoke of· lonely hours that might be cheered bv fresh, bright though.ts. of those who were younger. Another, to V1Slt and care for the sick-and still another, to act as a relief ten, and be ready, when r~lled upon to do any kind of work that. wonld help those who were needy. We think perhaps this latter ten may make Thanksgiving pleasant for some one, OT all together could do It very effectively. The field is open for others· to "go and do likewise."

NUTTING PARTIES. O~ they go with bright, langhing eyes and

glowmg cheeks, each one carrying a light little basket or fancy bag slung carelessly on her arm. The girls are full of life and spirits as they walk briskly along toward the woods in the delightful fall weatlw1", talking and laughing in a happy, thoughtless fashion, now telling where the best nuts are to be found, the shortest route to take, or where the prettiest walks lead, and again lingering or stopping to admire the many wonderfill beauties of autumn.

Arriving at the selected spot about noon, all bring forward their baskets and bags to contribute the contents to their "nutting dinner." Soon the white cloth is laid and the tempting feast spread, when the huugry hut merry maidens gather around to relish their repast in the forest, where, all about, are sure signs of coming' winter.

Now and then the sound of falling nuts is heard as they drop from the trees. This is music in the ears of the girls, and they hurry through their lunch, collect the empty baskets and are soon busy gathering the ripe nuts. It does not take long to fill their bags, and the one who first succeeds in the feat receives the


~28 ROUND TABLE

title of "Little Brown Squirrel." Then all the 'others, for the rest of the day, obey her wishes. Nor is this difficult, for their Little Browu Squir-

· reI is blithe and gay, generous and kind, and does all in her power to render her subjects happy.

The badge given to the successful competitor may consist of fall leaves or nuts tied with a brown ribbon. This she keeps in remcIl1brance of a deUghtful day spent in the woods when she was a Little Brown Squirrel.

The nut harvest in the north of Italy lasts over three weeks, ami is a very important one to the dark-eyed peasants, who dry the nuIs and grind them to flour, which is usei:l for bread and cakes during the balTen season. The harvest in the Apennines is quite an event, as the trees are plentiful, the fruit is good, and the people gladly celebrate the season.

ALL-HALLOW EVE.

Radiant and beautiful October, whose changcolor heralds the approach of winter, gives

us our first holiday, if Halloween can now be .called a holidav.

Before the Christian in the days of the ancient Celt~ and their the Druids, the eve of the first of November was the time for one the three principal festivals of the year. 'l'he of May was celebrated for the sowing; the solstice on the twenty-first of June for the ripening, and the eve of the first of November for the harvesting. At each of these festivals great fires were built Gill the hill-tops in honor of the sun, which the people worshiped. Christianity took the place of the heathen gion, the Church, instead of forbidding the bration of these days, gave them different mean~ 1ngs, and in this way the ancient harvest festi~ val of the Celts became All-Hallow Eve, or the ·eve of All Saints Day, the first day of November being dedicated to all of the saints.

For a long while most of the old customs of the holidays wt're retained; then, although new ceremonies were gradually introduced, HallowEve remained the night of the year for wild,

· mysterious, and superstitious rites. Fairies and all supernatural beings were believed to be abroad at this time. It was considered the best evening of the season for the practice of magic, and the customs observed on this night became mostly those of divination, by the aid 'of whieh it was thought the future might be read.

We are far from wishing to encourage any superstitious belief in the powcr. of charms to forecast futUre events. We regard all fortunetelling as nonsense, pure and simple, and only insert it as we would any other game for the

· sake of the amusement it affords. One of these games sacred to the evening is

NUTSHELL BOATS.

Split an English walnut directly in halfl re<move the kernel and clean away the partitions which remain in the shell; then place a short

:piece of heavy cotton string in the shell and

pour around it melted beeswax. Mould the wax into a cone shape, allowin"" the end of the string to come out at the top. The tapers being, lighted the boat" are launched on the sea of life, or in other words a tub of water.

When a light burns steadily until the wax is all melted and the frail bark safelv rides the. waves (which are occasioned by shaking the tub) a happy life is predicted and a long one.

"When two boats come in contact, it Uleans that their owners will meet and mutual interests some time in their lives. one boat crosses another's path, it denotes that their owners will do the same. If two boats come together and continue to sail side by side, their owners will in some way pass much of their lives together.

Roasting nuts side by side, making cakes with rings in, the fortunate person getting the ring being the first one to marry, bobbing for apples-trying for ~aisins, etc., .are among the many games practIced at such tIme.

A very ornamental wall pocket can be made with a bright colored Japanese fan. Take the rivet from'the handle, so the sticks can separate, and fasten t()gether the opposite side of the fan, as this forms the lower part of the pocket. Weave bright ribbons through the sticks to within an inch of the ends and fasten in the hole at the end of each stick a little tassel made of bright-hued crewels. The fan thus arranged is tacked on a board covered with any ma'erial ; that whi(lh comes around tea boxes very suitable, and should be drawn over the of the board and neatly' tacked to the Rings should be screwed to three

the board to fasten it to the wall.

INFANTS' KNITTED ilHTTENS.

These dainty little mittens are knit of white Saxonv yarn; one-half an ounce will make one pair ..

Cast on forty-eight stitches, sixteen on each needle. For the first row, put the thread over, slip one stitch and knit one plain. This will make seven tv-two stitches. Then brioche stitch for eight rows. 'fhis is done by. putting the thread forward, slip one stitch and knit two together. Then narrow for six alternate rows by knitting the two stitches as one and seaming the loop; then knit one and purl one. After six rows make a row of holes by putting the thread forward and knitting two Knit six rows and then widen by p e thread for-ward as in the first row. it brioche stitch for sixteen rows. Take off eighteen stitches on a cord for the thumb, and continue the brioche stitch for twentv rows more, then narrow three rows and draw up with 'yarn, Knit ten rows for the thumb, narrow three ro.ws and draw up with varn in the same manner as the end of the mitten has been done. Run a narrow white ribbon through the row of holes and tie in a small bow on the top of the wrist.


Documents

Autumn Leaves - Volume 1 (1888)