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INTO MAmiOUS LIQHT
UST as upon a time of other days, once
again John Marsden sat as one paral
yzed, but this time from holy emotions.
All these years he had thought Julian
Deveaux had ended his life in suicide
by drowning. All these years he had
been a heartbroken man, blaming himself
for the untimely death of not only the
one whom he had almost idolized, but
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also of the one whom he had failed to do his best to
save. He could but think of the $2,000,000
willed to him as blood money; and he felt himself
utterly unworthy to be the guardian of their child.
But Dr. Gordon, Mis. Wayland and other friends
would not release him from this sacred trust; and
he found his broken heart soothed by the wealth of
childish affection almost identically as that of James
Douglass had been by the little Christiana.
And he felt himself so unworthy it was some
time before he could enter as of old into his
work. He was never fully restored to his former
power in preaching, until his soul was reawakened
by that marvelous unknown writer whose articles
never failed, no matter what the subject, to end
with the phrase, “ECCE DEUS!” Regardless of
the subject of these articles, they invariably made
his soul burn within him, a responsive chord was
always awakened, and he would go forth with re
newed power to uplift men to behold God.
Thus he became reconciled to the obligations plac
ed upon him in Julian Deveaux’s will; and through
the co-operation of the Board of Trustees of “The
Christian Mission,” a great institutional work called
“The People’s Temple,” was built up, which not
only supplied spiritual food to the soul-hungry, but,
as the Lord did when upon earth, the diseased were
healed, the hungry were fed and the naked were
clothed.
And through these years so closely in the Mas
ter’s footsteps, he found none fallen so low, that
his soul did not tenderly and forgivingly yearn to
lift them up into a better way; for, had not his own
sou] once looked into the very abyss of hell itself?
So, in this hour of such wonderful insight into
God’s mysterious ways, when the dead were found
to be alive, when tire worst had become the best,
and when night had become day, he realized as
never before what it means to see “Him who is in
visible. ’’
He went at once to his desk to pen the article
requested by Julian Deveaux, and his thoughts
crowded so rapidly upon his pen, his fear was that
they might be lost while blossoming into words.
The following editorial appeared in the June
number of “Into Marvelous Light
It is easy to propound a question to the world at
large, and decide in our own minds what the ans
wer to that question should be. Ft is easy for the
Protestants of New York to speak enthusiastically
of what the Protestant world at large should arise
and do at once for the support and upbuilding of
struggling Protestantism in France at this critical
hour. But have we, even of New York—the city
whose streets are trodden by our fellow man from
every quarter of the globe—had our hearts and
minds freed wholly from provincialism/ Alien the
cry from Macedonia, “Come over and he!]) us,” is
heard, too often we answer, “Yes, Lord, I will,
when I have more than I need to help carry on thy
work at home.” We are apt to forget that in the
20th centurv, home means the entire world, for
are we not daily in touch with the whole
world? Bid this week, in our own church, was a
most striking example of this fact, when we re
ceived into our membership a woman from Persia,
a man from Spain, another from Cuba, still
another from South America and two young
men of German parentage. After the baptismal
service, I noticed a Japanese reporter taking down
CHAPTER XLIV.
The Golden Age for September 20, 1906.
By LLEWELYN ST EP HENS.
the sermon; and at the close of the services I was
greeted by a young woman born in Sweden, educated
in Leipsic and who spent some years in Paris be
fore coming to New York. There is now no real
distinction between home and foreign missions—
they are in truth one and the same. We may be
preparing the man, to whom we send the gospel in
Japan, India, Persia, Russia, Italy or France, for
a loyal citizen of the United States of America and
a true follower of our beloved Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ. Every institution of our beloved land
is affected to a greater degree than it is possible for
the average mind to conceive, by its adopted citi
zens. And, unless we awake to the situation, en
dow our churches at home, and go into all the world
and preach the gospel to every creature, none of
our institutions will feel the demoralizing effects
of immigration more sadly than will our churches.
By what means does the Roman Catholic Church
in the United States receive its largest increase in
membership? By immigration.
I do not know when my interest has been more
aroused than it has been recently by the history
of Father Gordinia, a young converted Catholic
priest, who left Italy two years ago, because his
whole soul revolted against the debasing servitude
of the priesthood in the land whose god is the pope
and whose mediator between man and the true God
is the Holy Church of Rome. Young Gordinia
thought to find in America—the land of the brave*
and the free—a less servile system, one founded
upon a higher plane of practical Christianity as
taught in God’s Word, a system which would per
mit greater liberty of private judgment and broader
soul development. But, alas, when he reached the
land of his dreams, the heavenly vision was dark
ened by the same clouded system of Romanism in
America as in every other country, and hi* did not
come into the marvelous light of Truth which illu
mines the way—the only way—to the throne of
God and His mercy seat through Jesus Christ, the
Way, the Truth and the Life, until he had renounced
allegiance to the Roman Church, and accepted the
leachings of God’s Word.
As it has been pointedly expressed, the trend of
modern Americanism is leading us to apathy toward
modern wrongs, a cowardly spirit apparent in pub
lic investigations, and a concentrated effort every
where visible, tending to reconcile divergence of
thought in religious, political ami other questions.
Does the seed of this spirit spring from the Ameri
can soil, from our Revolutionary fathers who fought
so valiantly for the principles of justice, of freedom
and of religious liberty—the right to worship God
according to the dictates of the individual under
standing? No! A thousand times, no ! This spir
it springs from its root in foreign lands, and is
transplanted within American soil. It springs from
nations whose crushed and oppressed men and wom
en arc deserting ami fleeing from their native land
in search of a Canaan. But, though they find a free
country, they do not find freedom of the soul from
sin and freedom of the mind from ignorance, until
the blessed gospel of Jesus Christ is shed abroad in
their hearts ami minds. Bid, should every effort
be made immediately upon the landing of such as
these upon American soil,-to meet them with open
I’ihiifs, with open churches and with open schools,
it'is not possible for babes to digest strong meat,
for the crocked and gnarled old oak to be straight
ened as a young twig, or for the tares instantly to
be uprooted from the wheat. Consequently, the*
influx of the evils of infidelity, of ignorance, of su
perstition, of the spirit of envy, of hatred ami re
venge lurking in the breast of the anarchist, and in
the hand of the assassin, are gnawing at the very
heart of true Americanism and of true Christ ism.
We have but to look at those countries which have
had' and have now an open Bible, and tlu se which
have not. to discover the reason for the pall of dark
ness which hangs over Catholic countries.
But God promises to those who believe on Him,
that what is dark shall be illumined, what is secret
shall be revealed, and what is low shall be lifted
up. When a soul has been born anew and is pos-
‘ ... J
sessed by Christ, that soul is willing to suffer all
things for Christ’s sake; to renounce the man-made
creeds of family or of friends, of priest or of
preacher, to follow in the footsteps of his Lord and
Master; to bravely face persecutions, taunts and
jeers for the sake of blessing and power which come
from being buried with Christ henceforth to be res
urrected and walk with Him in newness of life; is
willing, yea, to suffer death itself, if thereby man
kind may be brought to the foot of the cross of
Christ for eternal life. And when the spirit of
Christ so poscsses a man, whether he he in the land
of Calvin, of Luther, of Knox, of Spurgeon, of
Whitefield or Moody, that man will awake the na
tion to sing, “The morning light is breaking.” God
may raise up such a man in France today!
Had France during the past thirty years 100
Robert McAlls, instead of one such man and his
consecrated wife; had tin* various Brotestant denom
inations in France and their supporters abroad hut
done their best in proving Io socalled Catholic
France, that giving up Roman Catholicism ami ac
cepting Protestantism, was not falling’ info the de
spair of atheism, but was a blessed release from the
darkness of priest-craft, ignorance and superstition,
and an entrance into the marvelous light of the
pure gospel of the Son of God—if this had been
done—then France, beautiful France, would have
been ready for this, hour, ami would have been as
“a nation horn within a day” into the kingdom of
God.
France is now passing through a period which
will be as vital in its results for her future as was
the French Revolution. The call lias come from
France, “Come over ami help us!” Shall we
turn a deaf ear to the cry of our sister Republic
in this great crisis? Or shall we answer,
“Here am I, Lord, send me”?
CHAPTER XLV.
On the afternoon of June 20th, the New Y'ork
evening papers announced the marriage of Miss May
belle Deveaux and the Reverend John Marsden, the
ceremony having been performed in the home ol
the bride at high noon, immediately alter which the
bridal couple left lor a European tour.
THE END.
Whatever is is Best.
I know as my life grows older
And mine eyes have clearer sight
That under each rank wrong somewhere
There lies the root of right,
That each sorrow lias its purpose,
By the sorrowing oft iiiignesscd,
Bui as sure as the sun brings morning.
Whatever is is best.
1 know that each sinful action.
As sure as the night brings shade,
Is somewhere, some lime punished,
Though the hour be long delayed,
I know that the soul is aided
Sometimes by the heart’s unrest,
Ami to grow means often to suffer,
But whatever is is best.
I know- there are no errors
In the great eternal plan,
And all things work together
For the fimil good of man;
And I know when my soul speeds onward
In its grand eternal quest
I shall say, as I look back earthward,
Whatever is is best.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
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