Various - Golden Days for Boys and Girls, Vol. XII, Jan. 3, 1891
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Various >> Golden Days for Boys and Girls, Vol. XII, Jan. 3, 1891
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It was a very natural course of reasoning, but he should have trusted in
God. In I Kings 11: 38, the promise had been expressly made to him that
on condition of his obedience, he should be protected and his throne
should be firmly established. But he forgets this and goes on in the
foolish fashion of all doubt and unbelief.
FALSE GODS SET UP.
"Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold, and
said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem; behold
thy gods, oh, Israel, which brought thee up out of the land of Egypt,
"And he set the one in Bethel, and the other put he in Dan."
He reasoned that if there were to be two kingdoms, there must also be
two religions: at least, the citizens of one kingdom should not get
their religion from the worship and service held in another kingdom. On
the face of it this looked like the very essence of wisdom. It was
worldly wisdom, but it was religious folly because it was putting policy
above principle.
After he had thought this matter over for some time, Jeroboam took some
of his friends and counselers into the secret of his reflections, and
they agreed with him. Thereupon he proceeded to establish home rule in
religion as in everything else, and his whole course is an exhibition of
great shrewdness. It is a pity that so bright an intellect had not been
united with a better heart.
He set up objects of worship and established shrines for them at two
places in his kingdom, Bethel and Dan.
Bethel was located in the tribe of Benjamin's territory, but had been
taken as part of the land embraced in the revolt of the ten tribes. The
name meant the house of God, and was so called by Jacob at the time of
his vision (Gen. 28: 11-19.)
As long ago as Abraham's time, an altar had been built here (Gen.
12: 8.) Samuel had also judged Israel here (1 Sam. 7: 16.) It was,
therefore, shrewdly selected, for the people of those days were readily
and deeply impressed with the sacred associations of places, especially
old places.
The other place, Dan, was in the extreme northern part of the land, so
that the expression from Dan to Beersheba means from one end of the land
to the other, north to south.
There was no city here at this time, but at a spot about four miles from
where the city of Dan was afterwards located, there is a remarkable cave
in one of the ridges at the base of Mount Hermon. This cave had been a
sanctuary or place of worship from the earliest times (Gen. 14: 14.)
Having thus selected the localities, Jeroboam set up there the objects
for their worship. It was not his intention so much, perhaps, to teach
the people the worship of images--he would hardly have ventured to do
that in its bald form--but it was his intention that these calves or
oxen should be the symbols representing the presence of God just as the
ark and the cherubim did in the temple.
They were made of wood and covered with plates of gold. The ox was an
old object of worship. Aaron had set it up in the wilderness, and
Jeroboam used almost the very words of Aaron so long before (Ex. 32: 4).
The Israelites were made familiar with this image in the decorations of
the temple of Solomon, including colossal cherubim. Also the great
molten sea of brass was supported upon oxen of the same material.
THE DAMAGING RESULTS.
"And this thing became a sin: for the people went to worship before
the one, even unto Dan.
"And he made a house of high places, and made priests of the lowest
of the people, which were not of the sons of Levi."
It was hardly to be expected that any other result than that of sin
would come from this course. It was, to begin with, a violation of the
second commandment, and if Jeroboam did not intend to teach Israel the
worship of false gods, this was the result of it, and repeatedly he is
spoken of in the Scriptures as the one that did cause Israel to sin.
So completely were the people carried away with this bad current, that
they preferred to get as far away from Jerusalem as possible, and went
even to Dan to engage in their idolatrous practices.
At both these places where he had set up the calves, he built houses for
them. Originally and commonly houses of worship were built upon high
places, so that this expression "high places" came to be a description
of the house itself.
It is not a fortunate translation to state that Jeroboam made priests
of the lowest class of the people. It would have been poor policy, and
would have brought his movement into disrepute.
The literal rendering of the Hebrew is "from the ends of the people,"
and means, as in the Revised Version, "from all the people."
Jeroboam would have been glad to have the priestly tribe, Levi, furnish
him his priests, but they were loyal to God and the true worship and
would not assist the king in his schism, so he had to get priests where
he could from all the people and from any tribe.
In 2 Chron. 11: 13 it is said that the Levites in a body went over to
Rehoboam. This greatly strengthened the king of Judah and tended to keep
the religion of that part of the people pure.
NEW FEASTS APPOINTED.
"And Jeroboam ordained a feast in the eighth month, on the fifteenth
day of the month, like unto the feast that is In Judah, and he
offered upon the altar. So did he in Bethel, sacrificing unto the
calves that he had made: and he placed in Bethel the priests of the
high places which he had made.
"So he offered upon the altar which he had made in Bethel the
fifteenth day of the eighth month, even in the month which he had
devised of his own heart; and ordained a feast unto the children of
Israel: and he offered upon the altar, and burnt incense."
Jeroboam was the more anxious to get his religious enterprises
established because the time for the feast of the tabernacles was coming
on and many of his people would be going up to Jerusalem.
He therefore, as a part of his scheme, very shrewdly appointed a counter
feast, putting it on the same day of the month, the fifteenth, because
that was the time of the full moon, but he changed the month.
The right time was the seventh month, corresponding with our October and
November, and it was the most joyous of all the festivals celebrating
the gathering of the harvest.
He could plead a good reason for putting his feast a month later,
because the harvest was slower ripening in the northern part of the
kingdom than in the southern, and the change of time would be an
accommodation. The law fixing the seventh month is given (Lev. 23:
34, 39, 41).
At this feast Jeroboam himself approached the altar and served as a
priest. He did this doubtless for two reasons--1, To give the royal
sanction to the new religion; and 2, To show that he considered himself
the religious as well as the civil head of the nation.
LESSONS.
1. Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. Jeroboam
forgot this rule and put the improvement and fortifying of his kingdom
first--his secular affairs--and as a result made a fatal mistake.
2. How long and far a sin reaches! Solomon's idolatry bears fruit in the
breaking up of the nation and the lapse of half of it into heathenism.
What a disappointment to God, who had done and borne so much for this
people!
3. Jeroboam needed to have no fear about the perpetuity of his kingdom.
He had an express promise from God. (1 Kings 11: 38.) But his faith in
God's word failed, and hence he sinned. Thus sin is always the fruit of
unbelief.
4. Jeroboam also put policy before principle; for the sake of temporary
success he turned aside from the strictly right course. This is always
wrong, and because wrong is unsafe. Fasten the lesson deep in your
heart; never for the sake of any apparent advantage depart in the least
from the truth as conscience and God's Word shall make it known to you.
5. It is said in the lesson that Jeroboam devised of his own heart these
religious departures which he forced upon the people. Here was another
feature of his sin--that he presumed to depart from the explicit
directions that God had laid down as to the times, places and manner of
His worship, and gave the people instead inventions of his own. To say
the least, he had no business to do this, and he exposed himself to the
curse that comes upon those who take from or add to God's Word.
ILLUSTRATIONS.
"On mission ground there was once a prayer meeting held in an idol
temple. A lamp was placed in the hands or lap of each idol around
the room, so that the idols themselves held the light by which the
true God was worshiped. So the sins of Jeroboam may light us to
heaven." --_Peloubet._
"Judge a religion by its god. Judge a people by the kind of god
that will satisfy them. If a calf will do, what must be their
intelligence? If nature will do, what must be their emotion? If
science will do, what must be their moral sense? The Christian
religion pays the highest tribute to human intelligence. It calls
men to a God, infinite in every perfection." --_Joseph Parker._
"It has been remarked that the two tribes in whose inheritance
the calves stood are not found among the number of the sealed in
Revelations. The names of Ephraim and Dan are missing from that
list." --_Waller._
* * * * *
"Oh, God, our strength! to Thee our song,
With grateful hearts we raise;
To Thee, and Thee alone, belong
All worship, love and praise.
"And Thou, Oh, ever gracious Lord!
Wilt keep Thy promise still,
If, meekly hearkening to Thy word,
We seek to do Thy will.
"Led by the light Thy grace imparts,
Ne'er may we bow the knee
To idols, which our wayward hearts
Set up instead of Thee." --_Harriet Auber._
SIDNEY'S GOOD INTENTIONS.
(_A New Year's Story._)
by FLORENCE HALLOWELL.
[Illustration]
"Sidney, did you leave that note at Mrs. Flynn's yesterday?" asked Mrs.
Dent, as her eldest son came hurriedly into the sitting-room to get the
pocket-knife which he had left on the table. "She hasn't come, and I
don't know what I am going to do about the washing. Nora's arm is still
so lame that she must not attempt to use it."
"Oh, mother, I am so sorry!" and Sidney looked mortified and contrite.
"I fully intended to leave the note, but--"
"You forgot all about it," finished his sister Fannie, who was sewing at
one of the front windows. "Of course! Mother ought to have known she
couldn't trust you. Your intentions are always good, but that is as far
as you go."
"It is a great deal easier to _intend_ to do a thing than to do
it--everybody knows that," said Clara, a girl of twelve, who had put
down her book as her brother came in. "I suppose as long as we live
we'll have to hear Sidney say, 'I fully intended.' I don't expect
anything else."
And she laughed.
"I can't help being forgetful," said Sidney.
"Perhaps not," said his mother; "but you could go a long way toward
carrying out your good intentions if you would only do promptly whatever
is given you to do."
"I will go to Mrs. Flynn's now," said Sidney. "She can get here by ten
o'clock, anyway."
"Very well," said his mother. "The sooner you see her, the better it
will be for the washing. This winter sun will not last long."
Sidney went out, and, hurrying on his overcoat and cap, was soon on the
way to the cottage of Mrs. Flynn.
He felt a little depressed, for the remarks of his sisters had hurt his
feelings a good deal.
He wondered, as he walked briskly along, if Fannie and Clara never
forgot anything.
Next to Mrs. Flynn's was a small, brown cottage a good deal in want of
repairs. It had needed a coat of paint for many a year, and some of the
blinds were broken. But at the window was a very pretty little girl,
with golden curls, and Sidney paused a minute to nod and smile at her.
He knew her quite well, for she was sister to one of the junior clerks
in his father's warehouse.
The child smiled in return, and looked into the rear of the room, saying
something Sidney could not hear. But a moment later the head of a pale,
sad-faced woman appeared above that of the little girl.
She bowed to Sidney and then moved quickly away.
"How ill Mrs. Stewart looks!" thought kind-hearted Sidney. "I imagine
Christmas did not bring many good things to _this_ house. I remember now
that I fully intended to send little Mabel a doll; but--"
And then he stopped and blushed hotly. _Another_ good intention never
carried out.
Fortunately, he found Mrs. Flynn in, and she promised to go to his
mother at once. So he walked away, feeling that he had done his best to
repair the neglect of the previous day.
His next stopping-place was his father's office, which was a room built
on to the warehouse, and communicating with it by a single door.
There was another door which opened on to a side alley, and was kept
always locked. It was the door used exclusively by his father for
entrance and exit. But Sidney was a privileged person, and had been
allowed a pass-key. So he entered the office now without having to go
through the busy warehouse.
He was disappointed to find the room empty. His father had promised to
give him some money to buy powder, shot and caps for the new gun he had
received on Christmas Day, and, like all boys, he felt that time was
very precious when he was going to buy anything of that sort.
"Now I suppose I've got to wait," he soliloquized, as he threw himself
into the swivel-chair in front of his father's desk. "It'll be noon
before I get a chance to try the gun, I dare say."
He played with a paper-cutter at first; but soon his attention was
attracted by a letter on the desk, the superscription of which was in a
familiar hand.
He picked it up at once, for his Aunt Susan Dent's letters were always
public property at home. His father never failed to bring them home and
read them aloud at the supper-table. So Sidney drew this letter from the
envelope without hesitation.
He had always received a five-dollar bill every Christmas from his aunt,
but this year the day had come and gone without the customary present,
and he gave an exclamation of joy when, on unfolding the letter, a
five-dollar bill fell out.
"For me, of course. Better late than never," muttered Sidney, as he
hastily glanced over the letter.
Yes, his aunt intended the money for him.
She wrote that she had been too ill to write just before Christmas, but
that Sidney would probably rather have the gift come late than not at
all.
"Well, I should say so!" ejaculated Sidney. "And now I needn't wait for
father. I can use this money to buy my ammunition, and tell him about it
at dinner time."
He restored the letter to its envelope, and then let himself out at the
alley door. In five minutes he was in the nearest hardware store,
bargaining for his shot.
His mind was full of the sport he expected to have that afternoon in the
woods with his gun, and when he reached home he sprang up the steps two
at a time.
He was about to ring, with no gentle hand, when the door was thrown open
by his sister Fannie.
"We've been watching for you, Sidney," she said, in some excitement.
"Uncle Charles is here, and wants you to go home with him for two or
three days. He says he can promise you a splendid time. You'll have to
hurry, though, for the train leaves at twelve o'clock, and it is
half-past eleven now. We were _so_ afraid you wouldn't get back in
time."
"Hurry, Sidney," said his mother, appearing at the parlor door. "Change
your clothes as quickly as possible. I have packed your valise for you."
"No time to waste, my boy," said his uncle, from the dining-room, where
he was snatching a hasty lunch, attended by Clara. "The train won't wait
for us."
Sidney was soon ready, and, with a hasty good-by to his mother and
sisters, hurried off with his uncle.
"And be sure you come back Friday night, Sidney," called out his sister
Fannie, as she followed him to the front gate. "Don't 'fully intend' to
do it, and then come walking in here on Sunday. You know you've got to
make calls on New Year's Day."
"All right," answered Sidney. "I'll be here. You needn't worry."
It was not until he was in the train and half way to his destination
that he thought of the five-dollar bill. He was provoked with himself
that he had not spoken of it to his mother.
"But I'll write as soon as I get to Meadville," he thought; "and they'll
get the letter to-morrow."
But there was a great deal to occupy him when he reached his uncle's
home.
His cousins were fond of fun and were always ready for anything, and he
was so hurried from one place to another and had so many calls on his
time, that it was little wonder that the writing of that letter was
postponed. He fully intended to write it, but it wasn't written.
Only the recollection of Fannie's parting words made him resist an
invitation to a sleighing party and start for home on Friday. He knew
how the girls would talk if he were not there to make those calls on New
Year's Day.
He occupied himself while on the train with thinking on whom he would
call and what he would talk about. His visit to Meadville would give him
one subject, at least, for conversation.
It was nearly eleven o'clock at night when he reached home, but he found
his father and mother and two sisters still up. They were finishing some
preparations for the celebration of the next day.
"So you have actually come!" cried Fannie, as Sidney entered the room
and went to the fire to warm his half-frozen hands and feet. "One good
intention kept, at least. I'll score that to your credit, Sidney."
"It seems as if I had been gone a good deal longer than four days," said
Sidney. "I've been in a perfect whirl of excitement ever since I left
here."
"We've had some excitement, too," said Clara. "Father's discharged Harry
Stuart."
"Yes, just think, Sidney, he stole five dollars," said Fannie.
"We merely _suspected_ him of stealing it, my daughter," said Mr. Dent.
"I did not accuse him of it; but I fear there is no room to doubt that
he is guilty. He was the only one in the office while I was out."
"It is very hard to believe Harry Stuart a thief," said Mrs. Dent. "He
had as open and frank a face as I ever saw, and every one says he is
devoted to his mother; but then of course he was greatly tempted,
needing the money as he did."
"Do you mean the five-dollar bill Aunt Susan sent to me, father?" asked
Sidney.
He had grown very pale and his voice trembled as he spoke.
"Yes; how did you hear of it? The letter came the very day you left."
"Oh, father, I read the letter, and--and it was I who took the money! I
fully intended to tell you, but--"
And there Sidney broke down utterly and could not go on.
"_You_ took it!" repeated his father. "Oh, what trouble and sorrow you
have brought upon an innocent person, Sidney, by not letting me know
that sooner!"
"I intended to write from Meadville," faltered Sidney.
"But, as usual, you did not carry out your good intentions. Sidney, for
the first time in my life I am ashamed of you--heartily ashamed."
By degrees they drew the whole story from Sidney; and, though they
blamed him, they could not but feel sorry for him, so acute was his
remorse.
"I hope this affair will be a lesson to you as long as you live," said
Mr. Dent, as he dismissed the remorseful boy to his room.
Had it not been so late, Sidney would have gone that night to see Harry
Stuart, but as it was, he was up the next morning by six o'clock, and in
the cold, gray light of the first day of the New Year hurried to the
little brown cottage.
He found Mrs. Stuart sitting by the bedside of her son, who, never
strong, had been utterly prostrated by the trouble which had come upon
him, and for two days he had been delirious with fever.
He did not recognize Sidney, and the latter could hardly repress his
tears as he took the young man's hot hand in his own and looked down at
his flushed face and unnaturally bright eyes, and heard him mutter
incoherently his denial of the theft of which he had been suspected.
That was the only call Sidney made that day. All else was forgotten as
he sat by Harry Stuart's bedside hour after hour, trying to atone for
the pain and grief his carelessness had caused.
Harry got well at last and was restored to his former place with an
increase in salary, and he and Sidney were firm friends for the rest of
their lives; but Sidney never forgot the lesson he had learned and the
good resolutions he had made that New Year's Day in the little brown
cottage.
No one ever again heard him say, "I fully intended." To intend was to
_do_ with him at last.
NEW YEAR'S EVE.
Ye bells! peal forth
From south to north,
No longer let your iron tongues be dumb:
Up to the rafters swing,
Make all the country ring
An omen of a Happy Year to come,
[_This Story began in No. 2._]
ANDY FLETCHER,
the Story of a Boy with a Purpose.
by JOHN RUSSELL CORYELL,
Author of "Cast Adrift; or, Ned Carroll's
Promise," etc.
CHAPTER IX.
Police Headquarters.
"Who are you? What are you talking about?" demanded one of the
detectives of Andy, after the latter had stepped forward with his
exclamation that it was not the little boy.
A curiously malevolent expression crossed the face of the man with the
child as he bent his eyes on Andy; but he did not speak to him then, but
rather to the crowd that had quickly gathered,
"What does all this mean? Why am I stopped in this way? Is there a
policeman here? Call a policeman, somebody, please. Upon my word--a
pretty pass this, that a man may be molested in a public place in such a
fashion!"
Mr. Roberts was well dressed and his manner was composed and even
dignified, so that the sympathy of the spectators was with him at once,
until one of the detectives threw back his coat and showed his badge,
when there was a murmur of wonder, and one of them asked:
"What's he done?"
Just at this point the policeman came hurrying up.
The detective in charge saw him and showed him his badge, and then said
to him:
"Collar the kid," pointing to Andy, "and fetch him along to the office
up here. Are you a passenger on the steamer?" he asked of his prisoner.
"No; but I warn you that you will find yourself in trouble if you do not
release me at once. I can easily see that there is a conspiracy among
you to give me trouble. That boy there, whose father is a convict, as I
happen to know, is at the bottom of it, I suppose. As for this child
here, he is the son of a friend, and I have brought him here to see the
departure of the steamer. If, after this explanation, you still persist
in detaining me, it shall be at your peril."
"If I've made a mistake, I'm sorry," said the detective; "but I'm doing
no more than my duty in holding you. I never saw that boy before. I
don't know what he knows of the matter."
"You're looking for Regy Thorne, aren't you?" said Andy, who had
confined himself to listening and thinking until now.
"What if we are?" replied the non-committal detective.
"So am I, that's all," answered Andy, giving his enemy a bold glance of
defiance in return for the black looks cast upon him.
They had reached the wharf office by this time, and were readily
admitted by the wharfinger and given a place at the back end.
"Oho!" said the detective, "so you are after him, too, are you? How do
you come to know anything about it?"
"I live in Lakeville, and I left there last night on purpose to come
here and look for Regy. I was after the reward."
"Do you know this gentleman?"
And he pointed to the man Andy had such good cause to know.
"He knows me," struck in Mr. Roberts, with a sneer, "and bears me no
good will for having exposed him in the village where he lives. I
protest against being held on his evidence. If I am to undergo this
humiliation, send for a carriage immediately and have me taken to
headquarters, so that I may send for this child's parents and for some
of my friends. The charge against me I do not understand yet, excepting
that it has something absurd to do with this little boy."
If Andy had been allowed to speak at once in answer to the question of
the detective, he would have betrayed a great deal of the knowledge he
had of the man, and would have given out a sudden light that had come
to him as he stood there looking at him and listening. But with
consideration came wisdom, or, at the least, caution, and he replied,
briefly:
"I saw him in Lakeville yesterday. He did what he could to injure me,
but I did not know that he had anything to do with this matter."
"You know the boy we are looking for?" asked the detective.
"Yes, sir."
"And you are sure this is not the one?"
Andy looked carefully at the child, who had stood in a sort of wonder at
the attention he was receiving.
"I am sure," said Andy, finally, "that this is not Regy Thorne; but he
is dressed exactly as Regy was yesterday, or the day before. I did not
see him yesterday."
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