Observer, Oct. 1, 72.

TEST YOUR FAITH.

THE actions of professed Christians being the test of their faith (and this is the true test; for Christ taught that we should know a tree by its fruits); it hence becomes necessary to apply this test often to ourselves. We can try others by the same rule, and it becomes necessary sometimes to do it, but the necessity of self-examination is much more important. If we do not test our faith we are doing ourselves injustice. If we have not this faith when we think we have it, we are cheating ourselves out of immortality. It is impossible to reach heaven without Christian faith, and it is foolish to make a profession of having it when we have it not. The sacrifice we make for any object is a very sure test of the affection we have for it. It is the fruit of the tree by which the tree is to be judged. Almost every man will make any sacrifice for those he loves, or to gratify any ambition. The battle field shows what a man will do for his country. Incessant labour shows what he will do for political distinction. Patient, untiring toil shows what will be done to become rich. What should we do in the way of sacrifice to show our love for Christ, and to gain immortality? The Christian is a labourer, and his life is a warfare. To what extent are we labourers as servants of God, and how valiantly do we fight the warfare of faith? These are serious questions, and upon their proper answer and its practical application depends our hope of salvation. Cold, indifferent eye-service is not the service we would give to an object dear to our hearts; it is not the service God will accept at our hands. Cowardice on the battle field we would not show when patriotism has placed us there; neither will we show cowardice in the Christian warfare if our faith is right; nor will Christ acknowledge cowards in His army.

The excuses men offer for doing things not exactly right for Christians to do are frivolous and show that those who offer them have not Christian faith. A man will engage in questionable pursuits to make money; his excuse is that he has himself to support, and probably a family. He cannot bear the thought of depriving himself of the pleasures and comforts money will buy, or that his family should not have as much as his neighbour's; so he does these things. He is sacrificing his Christian faith for fleshly gratifications. He is making no sacrifice for Christ. Honest Christian labour will earn any man a support for himself and family, but he is not willing to labour and live as his poor neighbour, that the smell of fire may be kept from his garments. It is but a poor sacrifice to give up a splendid and well-appointed establishment in exchange for a hovel, when we remember what Christ sacrificed for us; still bow few will do it. Some men, perhaps many, will do this, but still this is not enough if more is required. In our country, at this time, more is, probably, not required; but we should so cultivate our faith that it may be intense enough to justify us in saying that we would do more. We should earnestly pray God not to lead us into temptation, that is, into occasions that will severely test our faith; but we should strive to be ready for the occasion. I fear we have not many Abrahams now-men who would stand the test of sacrificing a son for their faith: and probably we have fewer Daniels, who would risk the lions' den, trusting in God for deliverance, or be willing to jeopardize their lives for their faith. Centuries ago we had a host of martyrs who

Observer, Oct. 1, '72.

suffered death for their faith; how many such have we now? In the last few years one instance is recorded. Barth, the African explorer, faced death and risked it, rather than abjure his religion. This is the only instance of this test having been successfully endured for many years, but many instances of abjuration have been recorded. Are we ready to stand this test? Is our faith sufficiently strong to make us, deep in our hearts, believe that we would yield our lives rather than our Christian faith? If it is not that strong, it is not strong enough to save us; we are in danger. This test, the crucial test, may never be applied to us, but other tests of like kind, but in milder forms, are being daily applied to us. Are we meeting them as Christians should?

There is no possibility of deceiving God; we may deceive ourselves, the world and our brethren. It would be better for us if we fully realized this fact; it might induce us to live different lives. We should be honest with ourselves if we intend to be Christians; we should fully understand what that means, and then do it; and if we do not intend to do it all, then let us make no pretensions that way, but give all our energies to the world. No man can serve two masters. E. W. H.

"SUNDAY DINNERS."

IS THE Lord's day a day of feasting or a day of fasting is a question that is little regarded in these days of "bountiful store." The times and seasons seem to regulate the appetite in the ratio of much or little. As our harvests are abundant, our ideas of dependence decrease, and as they are "lean we are brought to a realization of necessity. The idea that God is under obligation to supply our wants, that He cannot withold His mercies, but must be considerate for the dependence of poor mortals, does not engender the proper spirit of submission to His decrees.

Self abnegation from responsibility is incompatible with that wisdom which teaches better things. Nature is a fixture, and likewise the laws which regulate it. Violation of these laws brings affliction; observance, blessings.

Wisdom submits, selfishness suffers; wisdom judiciously uses, selfishness unwittingly abuses; wisdom willingly bears the cross, selfishness is cross to have anything to bear; wisdom is willing to accept what each day provides with thanks for the same, selfishness would have a large "store house," that ease may follow the interim of devouring; wisdom has praise for the Beneficent Donor, selfishness only for self. Thus, between wisdom and selfishness is a striking contrast. They are extremes. As much opposites as wisdom and ignorance, or vice and virtue. In fact, selfishness and vice are twin sisters-are constant companions.

"But what has all this to do with Sunday dinners? It is hoped that we will see ere we part company.

When I speak of a "Sunday dinner," I do not mean an ordinary meal, but a meal in which the whole "larder" is ransacked in order to laden the "festal board" with all the little delicacies of the season. This is what I call selfishness. The six days are ours by a God-given right, and we may use them, only not to abuse. The one day is God's. That He demands. It is His, for He never gave it to us. When we take it, of all others, to

Observer, Oct. 1, 72.

make a feast, not of reason, and a flow, not of soul, then we make a display of that worst of all selfishness, expressed by-"give an inch and lose a mile." If God demanded but one day of the seven, it was for a purpose. That purpose is evidently legitimate and clearly defined. An encroachment upon its sacredness is as the violation of any other institution, either in nature or grace. Not to be satisfied with the six, but to appropriate the seventh is where the trouble lies, and the reason for this article.

The Jews had their institutions. They were typical of the Christian. "Whatsoever was written aforetime, was written for our learning." The Pagans rejoiced in their idiosyncrasy. They were purely epicurianized. They are typical of modern gluttony." "Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow we die." Who said it? Not the Christian! His faith looks beyond the vale. Not he who has hope in a blissful immortality; but he who slumbers in Sadducean darkness, with no ray of light beyond the "Jordan of death."

Sunday, or Lord's day as we have it in the Christian's age, is a divine institution. Consequently, it was ordained to honour its divine author. How is it done? Certainly not by "big" dinners, which stupify the sensibilities and beget a mental torpor, and prepare the worshipper for sweet somnolence while the "chimes" of the Gospel echo softly by. I argue that these dinners are wrong, physically, mentally and spiritually. They are injurious. That which injures is wrong. Wrong physically, because the labour of the week has been of an active character, and the diet of the ordinary. On Sunday there is a cessation from manual labour, and relaxation follows. In this condition mild esculents would be far more conducive to health than to surcharge the stomach with a superabundance of labour. While the body rests, all its parts should rest. If the stomach could talk, how it would cry out against these unconscionable "Sunday dinners." The health of the person demands that the habits should be uniform, the food regular. This is verified by the beasts of the field. They have no headache, no nervousness, no tremors, no neuralgia, no sour stomach and no sour temper, no restlessness, no blue Mondays, no doctor's bills, etc. Why should the human family suffer so many ills? This would not be so, were we more observant of the laws of hygiene. Wrong mentally, because that which injures the body is felt in debility of mind. Wrong spiritually. This I conceive the greatest of all wrongs. The Lord's day is a day set apart for worship. To renew the "heart of the soul," "the man of God" hence should be guarded carefully, that nothing should interfere with the hallowed usages of that day. To trample upon these principles is attended with as many spiritual or soul ills, as the abuse of the physical produces bodily ills. It is really suicidal, and in that abnormal condition the "spirit man" falls from the pedestal of God-likeness to indulgences wholly unknown to the true moral status of the new man in Christ Jesus. If these Sunday indulgences affected those only who rejoice in the rich "viands" set before them, the error would be less alarming. But when considered in the light of the connoisseur of the "spit," whose limbs are tired and whose mind is perplexed in the preparation of the luscious edibles; "oh, how should we cry aloud and spare not!"

A sister once said to me that she almost dreaded to see Sunday come, for with it came work, work from morning till church time, then from her return from church to church time again. Why is this so? Why per

Observer, Oct. 1, '72.

petuate a custom so detrimental to the happiness and spiritual growth of our Martha's and Mary's? Do we infringe upon good nature so, and not only that, but the sanctity of Christian privileges? The Lord's day has a two-fold object. First, the worshsip of God; second, the interim of labour, the time for reflection, the season for communing with our spirit, and the posting of the debit and credit account of the past week. It is the niche that God made in time, that Luman life might not be one continuous monotonous scene without here and there an oasis to brighten the remainder of the journey.

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Sunday dinners" are the result of much labour. It is equally as wrong for the sister to labour in the kitchen on the Lord's-day, as for the brother to labour on his farm. I see no difference. They are the same. course, I mean this extra culinary effort.

Of

This extra labour is, generally, the result of another evil, which I hope to notice in a future article: I mean "Sunday visiting." Permit me before I take my leave of you to suggest a remedy for this Sunday work, and the sisters' benefit. Let all the needed preparations for the Lord's day be the labour of the day preceding, and teach the guests that the provisions of the day are "life vigour" instead of "appetite enticer." The preparation for the day of rest was an edict of God. The manna of the Sabbath was the labour of the sixth day. This was written for our learning. This is right. Let good substantial nourishment be prepared, and let all enjoy it, with thanks to the Father of blessings, with the cheering presence of the good dame of the house while we partake of her hospitality, instead of seeing her flushed face, her agitated mind, and her sorrowful look as the result of a too close proximity to a heated oven.

Let the time soon come when all can look forward with fond anticipations to the coming of the Lord's day, with no regrets lest they be overtaxed with work, but with singleness of heart, unity of purpose and liberty of mind. Then we can spend that sacred day as becometh those who love to honour Him for whom the day is now named.

May God help us so to do.

SPIRITUAL DEVELOPMENT.*

J. B. BLOUNT.

"He that hath wrought us for this selfsame thing is God."-2 Cor. v. 5. THE word “wrought" does not mean that God so constructed the body and mind of man that he may be adapted to a higher and better state of existence. It is true, undeniably true, that the Eternal One made man purposely to live with, and enjoy Himself. The higher faculties of man's soul are to us an unmistakable evidence that the Divine Artificer created man for a sunny, sinless, supreme state of intelligent service. True as this is, it is not the idea conveyed here.

The word "wrought" occurs in the Septuagint, where it has not the meaning of creation, but of fashioning, polishing, chiseling or moulding a thing that does exist, but exists in a rude condition. In that sense we prefer to accept it here, as alluding to the various dealings of God's provi dence and grace, by which our naturally hard, crooked, rough dispositions and wills are moulded for glory. It suggests that naturally we are like

* From a Sermon, by J. HILBS HITCHENS.

Observer, Oct. 1, '7%.

quarry stones, shapeless and rude, and that before we can be built into the walls of the spiritual temple we must be sculptured and decorated; or that we are like gold in the ore, and that before we can ornament the King's crown we must be subjected to the furnace fires, and moulded and polished by the divine hand. There is in us an inherent vileness, and we must be wrought" up to a point of meekness for the inheritance of the saints in light.

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But, oh, this work of preparation, how much it may include! How many of our idols must be utterly demolished! How many of our dear relatives must be removed from our gaze! How many days, weeks, months, perhaps years, may find us inmates of the darkened chamber! How metamorphosed must be our prospects! How plentiful and painful must be our tears! How much must be endured that is perplexing to the mind, harassing, to the heart, paralysing to the hope, blighting to the prospects and desolating in the home! Truly, from such experiences some may be exempt, as Salem's Temple of old rose without the sound of the axe; but in the process of our preparation there are no instruments more commonly employed than the rod, the hammer, the chisel and the furnace. Nor need we be a moment surprised at this. When we call to remembrance our original guilt, our practical transgressions, our repeated opposition to God and our absorbing attachment to the earthly, we must see that a thorough remodelling within us is needed in order to prepare us for the privileges and pursuits of the redeemed. There are vain and valueless parasites which must be removed. There are predominant sins-sins of worldliness, covetousness, impatience and pride-that must be exorcised. There is a thick layer of selfishness that must be chipped off. There are latent, dormant excellencies which must be developed. There must also be generated within our hearts tastes and inclinations which shall accord with the pleasures and duties of the better country. We must learn the thorough worthlessness of all human enjoyments and occupations. Our minds must be entirely detached from them, and linked to and thrown in love with that which is within the veil. There is, then, nothing more likely to produce these effects than that which overturns the fabric of mortal hope, and breaks down the time-born object of mortal desires. This the apostle himself intimated when he said, in a verse anterior to this: "Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." There is no doubt but that Paul regarded his trials as the instruments, in the hand of the infinitely wise Father, whereby he was fitted for the glorious things of immortality. We also must try to realise that

"Each care, each ill of mortal birth

Is sent in pitying love,

To light the lingering heart from earth,

And speed its flight above.

And every pang that wrings the breast,

And every joy that dies,

Tells us to seek a purer rest,

And trust to holier ties."

Oh, ye who are looking forward to that place and that state here embraced in the phrase, "the selfsame thing," do not already prepared! Do not think the work is done!

regard yourselves as You have yet to be