The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1879, Page 8

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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.”

—> ~<a

We must not only be called Christians, but
we must be such indeed. One of the Fathers
says, ‘‘Let us not flatter ourselves with this
name only, that we are called Christians, but
let us know, that we shall be judged for this,
too, if we claim that name without having a fair

title to it.

——s-+o-<4 or
CHANGE OF NAME. pit,

We sincerely regret that through an oversight
of ours the name “Lutheran Evangelist? was
placed at the head of our paper, Since the issue
of our first number we have learned that there is
a paper in existence haying the same name, We gt
have therefore made the change, and the first bene
number is sent again to every subscriber. Rees

TERMS:

25 Sf 4.00 :
Club rates only allowed if all copies are to be sent

oncordia College, Fort Wayne, Ind.
and joy to his life. And oh, how he now|Print of the Luth. Concordia Publishing House.