THE KING’S BUSINESS 311 and we find he did not come from his tailor’s bench, but that he came from a position as waiter in a restaurant in New York. It would have been nothing against him if he had come from the tailor’s bench and was nothing against him that he came from a restaurant. He was trying to make an honest living. He was capable, of doing a higher class of work than waiting on a table in a restaurant but evidently no better work opened to him and like an honest man, he took what did open to him, and we wish to testify that when he came to Chicago, he seemed to be a very humble, teachable man and a very lovable man in many ways. There was scarcely any student in the Institute at the time toward whom we were more drawn. This is the sad part of it, and that was the point we were making in our previous editorial. The words that im- ijiediately precede the words to which Mr. Gelesnoff makes objection are> “ Our hearts are sad. Mr. Gelesnoff was formerly a student of our own at the Bible Institute in Chicago. He seemed at that time to be a humble seeker after truth. He came to us, if we remember correctly, from Rochester from the tailor’s bench.” But all this has nothing to do with the question at issue,; Mr. Gelesnoff taught and still teaches in his defense most shocking and appalling blasphemy, clearly making God to be the author of sin, though he does not use those words. We have no intention of continually attacking Mr. Gelesnoff, and very likely would not even have referred to his reply and exposed the sophistry of it if it had not have been that in our May number a reference to Mr. Gelesnoff's reply crept in without warrant. It was not even submitted to the editor in chief before printing and yet is written as if it were an editorial utterance. It was not a satisfactory dealing with Mr. Gelesnoff’s attempted reply and we are unwilling to be beld responsible for it. “Lift Up Your Eyes” L IFT up your eyes! already white The harvest calls; the fields invite. Go, gather fruit,—no common grain
Shall we who feast on Gospel fare, Christ’s purple and fine linen wear, Like Dives, blest with boundless store, Neglect the beggar at our door? Shall we who pray, “Thy kingdom come,’ Stand idly by, all. cold and dumb, While from His own the King is thrust? While trails His banner in the dust?
But souls of never-dying men. Where Satan’s hand unstayed controls A thousand million precious souls Still grope in darkness, sin and woe; No Christ, no hope, no God they know.
Lay hold on God, O ye who pray. Stand forth, ye heralds, lead the way, And let the silver trumpet sound Anear, afar, the world around.
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