Pledge in Song the Curtain Is Drawn WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS Eld
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Pledge in Song The Curtain Is Drawn WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS eld LIGHT The writer of Psalm 119:130 re- corded an ageless truth—"The entrance of thy words giveth light." How often, though, the only key that would fit the lock to the entrance of truth has been the fearless per- formance of a kindness in the shadows of personal danger. Young people living in the lands of broad freedoms and opportunities need often to remind themselves that such blessings are not the lot of youth everywhere. Such exploits of courage as portrayed in "The Heretic," our lead story, are products of our time and not of some past age of darkness. Christian youth will rejoice in the turn of events in Miss Lowry's story. All of us would do well to reflect that while the last chapter in the story of the gospel commission will increase the instances of Satan's roar, the EVA LUOMA Lord's hand is not shortened that it cannot save. And that "saving" has a double mean- ing. How Do You Vote?-1 SIMPLICITY Some people miss the forest for looking at the trees, while others miss the Did Jesus set an example in prayer? "And in the trees for looking at the forest. Happy is the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and man who can see both. Perhaps the photo- departed into a solitary place, and there prayed."' graphic mind is a sharp aid in knowing which to look for, the trees or the wood. Our cover, Was Daniel too busy with worry and the affairs of state to of course, shows neither. But we think that pray? "He kneeled upon his knees three times a day, and prayed, the Ewing Galloway photographer who found and gave thanks before his God, as he did aforetime." simple beauty in a few grasses at water's edge, What program did David follow? "Evening, and morning, and with dappled clouds above, illustrates what at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and he shall hear my voice."' we mean. Were the Bereans so burdened with making a living that NEED "You Don't Have to Be Good," page they had no time to study the Scriptures? "They received the 11, may be a provocative title until you have word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures read the first paragraph of Eda A. Reid's daily, whether those things were so." important study. To miss the deeper meaning Did you ever say, "I haven't time to study my Bible every of her thesis is to invite tragedy. day. I cannot find time for private devotions"? Then how do you find time to provide for your food and raiment? Perhaps GUNS In next week's issue will be some- thing in common with this week's Family you reply, "That's the answer—I work so hard to provide these Fare item. Lalia Mitchell Thornton provides necessary things that no time is left for the other." a poem entitled, "Open Season." But have you not read, "Man shall not live by bread alone"? Have you not read, "Therefore take no thought, saying, What AUSTRALIA Margaret Clarke writes: "Some- shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we time when you are writing to Wilma Ross be clothed? . But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his Westphal, will you please tell her she has two ardent fans and an appreciative mother righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you"? of same? [Mrs. Clarke refers to the author How do you vote? For temporal things only? Or for the of the popular Jeanie stories, which ran the eternal? first of this year.] Incidently, why limit your readers to those of fifteen to thirty years? Eight to eighty would be nearer the mark." Mark 1:35. While the teen-agers and twenty-year-olds 2 Dan. 6:10. are the audience of our primary aim, we do Ps. 55:17. 4 Acts 17:11. not mind if the eighty-year-olds read the 5 Matt. 4:4. INSTRUCTOR! Even a centenarian could find Matt. 6:31-33. 6 something of interest in its pages. We've been "Read by the Young in Heart for More Than a Century." THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR Vol. 104, No. 42 October 16, 1956 Published by the Seventh-day Adventists. Printed every Tuesday by the Review and Herald Publishing Assn., at Takoma Editor WALTER T. CRANDALL Park, Washington 12, D.C., U.S.A. Entered as second-class matter August 14, 1903, at the post office at Washington, D.C., Associate Editor FREDERICK LEE under the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1956, Review and Herald Publishing Assn., Washington 12, D.C. DON YOST Assistant Editor Subscription rates: one year, $5.25; two years, $9.50; three years, $12.75; six months, $2.75; in clubs of three or more, one Consulting Editors year, each $4.25; six months, $2.25. Foreign countries where extra postage is required: one year, $5.75; six months, $3.00; GEORGE W. CHAMBERS, RICHARD HAMMILL in clubs of three or more, one year, each $4.75; six months, $2.50. Monthly color edition, available overseas only, one THEODORE LUCAS, E. LENNARD MINCHIN year, $1.50. L. L. MOFFITT The post office will not forward second-class matter even though you leave a forwarding address. Send both the old Circulation Manager R. J. CHRISTIAN and the new address to THE Yount's lurrsucroa before you move. 2 THE YOUTH'S INSTRUCTOR Jorge was caught in an exasperating dilemma At once he surmised what had hap- pened. In his mind's eye he could see the with no apparent solution that was safe. busy self-appointed executioners sprinkling gasoline along the thatch walls of his abode. They had applied a lighted match to the fuel, and the whole building had exploded into flames, shooting into the air a shower of sparks like a giant dis- play of fireworks. The dry palm fronds forming the roof, with their reserves of natural oil, added fuel to the fire that The Heretic was devouring the casita (little hut). Eying his fiery-furnace prison, Jorge discovered that the roof was ready to cave in on his unprotected head and the By ELENA LOW RY walls were a mass of glowing embers. "Dear God, help me!" he anxiously whis- pered. Tremblingly he looked for the weakest spot, a place where the unre- lenting fire had burned the fiercest, and VIGOROUSLY rap- then, gritting his teeth, he broke through ping on the gray, the wall. weather-beaten door, Lest he be discovered by his persecutors, the tall man nervously who stood to one side gloating like cats paced back and forth over a recently caught mouse, Jorge like a lion in a cage, stealthily stole down to the water's edge, impatiently waiting avoiding the weird, changing patterns for the occupant of cast on the ground by the flickering light the house to appear. of the dying fire. Rousing Carlos and As the door swung Jose—his two brawny paddlers, who had open the man on the been using the dugout canoe as a bed step hissed, "Juan, who's the fellow that's chamber—Jorge whispered, "Sh! Quick, sleeping in the old hut of yours?" push over to the other side of the rio." "Oh, I don't know. He said his name Jorge was caught in an exasperating was Jorge, and I guess that he's peddling .dilemma: the danger of being killed by some kind of books. Why?" his enemies if he stayed nearby was al- Stepping closer, the visitor hoarsely most as great as traveling downstream, whispered, "He's against our religion. where they might be dashed to pieces by Those books that he is selling are full of the racing rapids, shooting the frail bark false beliefs. You know, I think that we brow because the tough, fibrous, tropical would be doing God a great favor if vines twining like immense corkscrews tonight we did away with that young good- around the tall trees and the dense un- for-nothing heretic." dergrowth had cut off all circulation of Quickly entering the house, the two fresh air. Being very tired and drowsy, Spanish men drew their chairs together he immediately hung his hammock in the and laid plans for the deadly work of the small hut and fell into a deep and re- evening. freshing sleep, not realizing that his host II J Canoeing down one of the numerous and a prejudiced neighbor were planning water highways of Colombia, Jorge, a to slay him while he slept. South American colporteur, had can- Hours later, the sound of sizzling and vassed all the scattered huts lining the crackling, accompanied by a sensation of banks of the wide, muddy river. As the being roasted alive, awakened Jorge. His last slanting rays of the summer sun horrified eyes beheld a mass of flames warned him of the approaching night, he leaping and dancing like orange fiends. had disembarked at one of the lowly A tongue of fire licked at him, startling cabins seeking a place where he could him out of the hypnotic daze produced spend the night. by the devouring flames. He leaped to "I'm sorry, but our very small house the ground, whipped out his jackknife, is already crowded until the seams are slashed the strong ropes that held the almost bursting, but if you would like hammock, and folding it under his arm, to"—and the man paused to wave his ran swiftly to the door, only to find it hand—"you can use that old hut over securely barred.