Image provided by: Silverton Country Historical Society; Silverton, OR
About Torch of reason. (Silverton, Oregon) 1896-1903 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 6, 1898)
T H E TORCH OF REASON, SIL V E R T O N , OREGON , TH U RSD A Y , OCTOBER 6, 1S98. The Philosopher. ing them to gloat over t h e wounds, agony and death of an innocent person, because these sufferings of the innocent one save them from punishm ent. How much more noble, more m orally brave, more careful of conduct, more tru th fu l and more ju st to hum anity would what are called C hristian nations have been had they not, from child hood, been taught th at they could unload their sins upon the shoul ders of a sinless one. The tru ly m orally brave, had they been consulted about it, would have declined to have another bear the burden of th eir sins, and so m ight have saved the creative power in part, or as a whole, from a cruel death. I believe th at F reethinkers, Sec ularists and Liberals now decline . . . to accept any benefit from this cru- j citixion. I, for one, do. If, bv some hocus pocus of ju d g m en t my soul, or, as the M ethodist catechism has it, the “ breath of G od,” in I stained by A dam ’s act, I will bear the consequence myself. I will not be a party to the suffeiings of the “ Lam b.” My soul, which makes no protest, m ust bear it. I know th a t at d eath , th a t by which my life m anifests itself, by which I feel and have sensation, muscles, nerves and brain, will, in a dream ier» sleep, be com fortably tucked a ax- in the grave, w aiting for t h e resur rection in “ grass and flower.” 1 am a t a loss to know whether I am to pity, or rejoice with my in visible, im m aterial soul or spirit. I can get no lesponse from it. If, as the M ethodist catechism says, the soul is the “ breath of God,” it, after all, may not he in need of much pity. M. M. T urner . [ The following poem was sent by Mrs. T urner to show the C h ristian ’s views. We publish it as an accom panim ent to the above article. It is quite poetical hut strictly bar barous.— E d .J The Inexorable God. The board walk, or esplanade, at A tlantic City, N. J , forty feet wide hot for a short distance at either end, and four miles long, supported by iron piers sunk in the sand and bound together by iron girders, on the sea side a strong protecting railing of iron tubes two or more inches in diam eter, with openings at intervals where steps lead to the beach, is the pride and boast of the city. On the one side the ocean stretches to the lim it of vision, its waters sm oothing in the distance and colored to suit the hour, a gray expanse, a sheet of dancing silver, or pearly blue, reflecting the sunset hues, and varying in m o o d s , resting dream ily under a slight veil of mist, roused to energy and industry, or proudly displaying its powers and majesty. W here the friction of motion topples the lifted water over, break ing it into sheets of spray when the waves are high, or edging sm al ler ones with lacy whiteness, and having played their part they hurry home, there groups of men, women and happy children are to be seen, eith er on the sand or in the ocean, playing with the waves. On the esplanade is a moving throng, with pleasure, happiness health or the search for health as the incentive. On the landw ard side adjoining, and on the same level, are booths of all sizes and pretensions, occupied by represent atives of most of the industrial nations of the earth , and by speci mens of their varied industries, from the sm allest and quaintest toy to the most elaborate and beau tiful a rt work, or by various con trivances to am use and astonish at an adm ission fee of 10 cents each. Going one day into the “ Tokyo B azaar,” I asked the d ark-skinned, black-haired, bright-eyed gentlem an who waited on me some questions about his goods. These were an swered in such good English th a t I asked: ‘ How long have you been (), blessed feet of Je su s, weary with seeking me, in this c o u n try ? ” “ Thirteen S tand a t G o d ’s bar of judgm ent and in tercede for me. years.” “ Do you call yourself an A m erican ?” “ I a in a Japanese.” O, knees which lient in anguish in «lark t l / ! sem an e, “ H ave you become a convert to the K neel G a t eth th e th ro n e of glory am i inter- theology of this country ? I am a cede for me. philosopher.” “ I a m a philosopher G, hands th a t were ex te n d ed upon the \VZ! awful tree, m yself.” “ I would like to know Hold up those precious n a il-p rin ts and where your philosophy leads you.” in terced e for me. “ Very deep; very d e e p ” “ W hat G, side from whence th e sp ear-p o in t do you think of the Adam and Eve b rought blood and w ater free, For healing and for cleansing, still in te r story; the punishing of all for the cede for me. sin of o n e?” “ It is barbarous; G, head so deeply pierced with th o rn s harha rolls.” th a t sh a rp e st lx*, This “ b a rb a ro u s” teaching in Bend low l»efore thy fath e r and intercede for m e. one nr the other of its various and differing forms, perhaps all of them , G, sacred h e a rt, such sorrow s th e world m ay never see, is w hat the m issionaries take to As th a t which gave th e w a rran t to in te r cede for me. foreign nations, teaching them to love and worship a god whose G, bodv scarred and w o u m k d , my sacri * fice to t>e, ‘ w rath and c u rse ” (as the cate P re se n t th y perfect offering and in te r cede for me. chism s say) is upon all the peoples of the earth , because he was angered G, loving, risen Saviour, from d eath and sorrow free, by one act (in itself most desirable) Though th ro n ed in endless glory, still of the creature he had newly made intercede for me. out of the dust o f the earth ; teach- , —[Selected. m / st/ st/ st/ st/ St/ St/ St/ "!St/ SI/! 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