# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1879_S8 # Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration) Me ———— << SS Ld 8 The Lutheran Pioneer. . Pa loved that Holy Book! He could not part from it.—This same man is now a Bible-agent ; in his native country, and preaches the Gospel to his country-men.— —My dear friend, do you value the Bible? Do you read it? Oh, read it, read the Bible. There you may learn ; What Christ has done a To save your soul from hell; hoe Not all the books on earth besides Such heavenly wonders tell. j —_— + o~< oe “He lives, He lives!”’ him some food; and a few days later, she took him to her house and to her table. Luther never forgot this kindness of the dear woman. After many years, when he was a Professor, and the woman’s son studied at the university, he took that son to his table. Having now found a happy home, little Martin went on with his studies, and being a very gifted and talented boy, he became the best scholar in school; none of the boys could come near him.—When he had finished his studies at this school, he was ready to go to the university. He was now no longer the little Martin, but a youth of 18 years. a Er Read the Bible. that they ran away as fast as they could. Afterwards they came back, and found that the man with the rough voice had a kind heart, and had brought out some sausages for them. Luther's father wanted his son to become a very learned man, a great Jawyer, or doctor, or professor. So, when Martin was fourteen years old, he was sent to the Latin school in the city of Magdeburg. Here, too, he heard much about the holiness of the pope, and the priests, and monks, but nothing about the loving Jesus. He once saw a Prince going about the streets of the city, in a monk’s dress, begging for bread, with a heavy sack on his shoulders, like an ass. The Prince had fasted, until he looked like a skeleton, nothing but skin and bones. Indeed, shortly after he died. The poor man had tried to be his own saviour, not knowing Jesus, the only Saviour of sinners. —Luther also tells us of a horrible picture which he saw in that city. ‘‘A large ship was painted, which they called the Holy Christian Church, in which there was no layman, not even a king or prince, but only the pope with his cardinals and bishops, with the Holy Ghost hovering over them, the priests and monks with their oars at the side; and thus they were sail- ing to heaven. The laymen were swimming along in the water around the ship. Some of them were drowning; some were drawing themselves up to the ship by means of ropes, which the ‘holy fathers’, by grace and by sharing their good works, cast out to them, that they might not drown, but be taken along to heaven, clinging to the ship. There was no pope, nor cardinal, nor bishop, nor priest, nor monk in the water, but laymen only.’”’ It was a dreadful picture, by which the people were taught that a common man could only get to heayen, when he had some friend in the cloister who had done more good works than he him- self needed, and who could then make those good works over to him, and thus help him along to heaven. A dreadful picture! After Luther had been but one year in this city, his parents sent him to another Latin school at Eisenach, a small town in a most beautiful valley. Here some of his mother’s relatives were living, and his parents hoped that he would get some support from them. But they were disappointed; for here, too, the poor boy had to go about, singing from house to house for some food, and often he had to go to bed without having had anything to eat. But God took care of him. He once, with other boys, on a cold winter night, went out singing, and already they had sung at several houses without getting anything. They at last came to the house of Cotta, an honorable and wealthy citizen. Poor Martin stood there sad and downhearted. The boys began to sing, and again the fine sweet voice of Luther rang out in the winter air. The door was opened, and out came the kind-hearted lady of the house. She knew that clear sweet voice. She had already often been delighted at hearing it in church. She called Martin in, and gave When Luther, in his sore trials, at times be- came sad and gloomy, he comforted and cheered himself with these words: He lives. He would often write it in Latin in large letters with chalk upon his table. Yea, upon all the doors and sides of his room he would write: He lives, He lives, He lives! Upon being asked what he meant thereby, he answered: JEsus Lives! and if He did not live, I would not wish to live asingle hour. But because He lives, we also shall live through Him, as He Himself says: ‘IT LIVE, AND YE SHALL LIVE ALSO!’” (Selected.) = ———~> + o< e+ On the third day He rose from the dead! In the large city of London, in England, several Christian ladies are in the habit of go- ing into the hospitals every morning, taking with them a small bunch of flowers to cheer the weary hours of the sick-room. To these flowers a card is tied, on which words of com- fort are written, taken from the Bible. The heart of many a sick person is gladdened at the sight of the beautiful flowers, and by the com- forting words of God. One of the ladies one morning found a Span- ish pilot in one of the hospitals, laid up with a lingering disease. He was a Roman Catholic, a member of the pope’s church, sick among strangers. He had often longed to hear again a sound of his native language, to see again his native country. The lady brought him a bunch of flowers with a card tied to it, on which was written a sentence from the Bible in Spanish. How glad the poor sick stranger was, when he saw the fresh flowers which reminded him of the sunny land of Spain! How glad he was, when he read those words of comfort in his mother-tongue! He then asked from whence these words came. He had hardly been ‘told that they were taken from the Bible, when he indignantly threw the flowers and the card far away. His priests had told him that the Bible was a very bad book, and that he should never accept it.—The next day a bunch of flowers and a card were brought again, and again he threw them away. The weary days wore on in the sick-room, and at last the stranger accepted the flowers, and even read the words on the card, setting his conscience at rest with the thought that that card was not the Bible itself. And oh, how sweet those Bible-words seemed to him! Sweet as the comforting words of a mother.| ‘Tye Lurimran Proxzer is published monthly, He longed for the next day and for another | payable in adyance at the following rates, postage Bible-word. At last he asked for that whole | 2°Ude4: to-wit: book written in such wonderful language. It surely could not be that same Bible which the priests had forbidden him to read. A Spanish Bible was given him, and he now read that} *© one address. ati roe _Book, he rad it during the long vith, Goneoraie Publishing Howe a ig ree ays of his recovery, he read it again and |T#EL, Agt., St. Louis, Mo. 4 stori again. The truth of God’s Word Steen eh pan ello Prov. R Ke Bass home to his heart; it brought peace to his soul, Go On these words Luther says, ‘‘The words, Christ risen from the dead, should be well re- membered, and should be written in large let- ters, so that every letter be as large as a tower, yea, as large as heaven and earth, that we may see nothing, hear nothing, think nothing, and know nothing but this one article, Christ risen from the dead.” —> ~