Earlier text: Punishment and TormentThe Commentary.
By Ellen G. White
NOTES ON THE INTERNATIONAL LESSON.
THERE was to be a marriage in Cana of Galilee. The parties were relatives of Joseph and Mary. Christ knew of this family gathering, and that many influential persons would be brought together there; so, in company with his newly-made disciples, he made his way to Cana. As soon as it was known that Jesus had come to the place, a special invitation was sent to him and his friends. This was what he had purposed, and so he graced the feast with his presence. He had been separated from his mother for quite a length of time. During this period he had been baptized by John, and had endured the temptations in the wilderness. She had been very sorrowful for the past two months; for she had been separated from her son, who had ever been faithful and obedient to her wishes. The widowed mother had mourned over the sufferings that Jesus had endured in his loneliness. His Messiahship had caused her deep sorrow, as well as joy. Yet strangely, as it appears to her, she meets him at the marriage feast, the same tender, dutiful son, yet not the same; for his countenance is changed; she sees the marks of his fierce conflict in the wilderness of temptation, and the evidence of his high mission, in his holy expression and the gentle dignity of his presence. She sees that he is accompanied by a number of young men, who address him with reverence, calling him Master. These companions tell Mary of the wonderful things they have witnessed, not only at the baptism, but upon numerous other occasions; and they conclude by saying, "We have found him of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write, Jesus of Nazareth, who is the long-looked-for Messiah." THE heart of Mary was made glad by this assurance that the cherished hope of long years of anxious waiting was indeed true. It would have been strange enough if mingled with this deep and holy joy there had not been a trace of the fond mother's natural pride. But the guests assembled, and time passed on. At length an incident occurred that caused much perplexity and regret. It was discovered that from some cause the wine had failed. The wine used was the pure juice of the grape, and it was impossible to provide it at that late hour. It was unusual to dispense with it on these219 occasions; so the mother of Christ, who, in her capacity of a relative had a prominent part to perform at the feast, spoke to her son, saying, "They have no wine." In this communication was a hidden request, or rather suggestion, that he to whom all things were possible would relieve their wants. But Jesus answered, "Woman what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come." THE future life of Christ was mapped out before him. His divine power had been hidden, and he had waited in obscurity and humiliation for thirty years, and was in no haste to act until the proper time should arrive. But Mary, in the pride of her heart, longed to see him prove to the company that he was really the honored of God. It seemed to her a favorable opportunity to convince the people present of his divine power, by working a miracle before their eyes that would place him in the position he should occupy before the Jews. But he answered that his hour had not yet come. His time to be honored and glorified as King was not yet come; it was his lot to be a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. THE earthly relation of Christ to his mother was ended. He who had been her submissive son was now her divine Lord. Her only hope, in common with the rest of mankind, was to believe him to be the Redeemer of the world, and yield him implicit obedience. The fearful delusion of the Roman Church exalts the mother of Christ equal with the Son of the infinite God; but he, the Saviour, places the matter in a vastly different light, and in a pointed manner indicates that the tie of relationship between them in no way raises her to his level, or insures her future. Human sympathies must no longer affect the One whose mission is to the world. JESUS had just come from his long fast in the wilderness, where he had suffered in order to break the power of appetite over man, which, among other evils, had led to the free use of intoxicating liquor. Christ did not provide for the wedding guests wine that from fermentation or adulteration was of an intoxicating character, but the pure juice of the grape, clarified and refined. Its effect was to bring the taste into harmony with a healthful appetite. The news of this miracle wrought by Jesus spread through all that region, and even reached Jerusalem. The priests and elders heard with wonder. They searched with new interest the prophecies pointing to the coming of Christ. There was the most intense anxiety to know the aim and mission of this new Teacher, who came among the people in so unassuming a manner, yet did that which no other man had ever done. Unlike the Pharisees and other dignitaries who preserved an austere seclusion, he had joined the mixed assembly of a festal gathering, and, while no shadow of worldly levity marred his conduct, he had sanctioned the social gathering with his presence. HERE is a lesson for the disciples of Christ through all time, not to exclude themselves from society, renouncing all social communion and seeking a strict seclusion from their fellow-beings. In order to reach all classes, we must meet them where they are; for they will seldom seek us of their own accord. Not alone from the pulpit are the hearts of men and women touched by divine truth. Christ awakened their interest by going among them as one who desired their good. He sought them at their daily vocations, and manifested an unfeigned interest in their temporal affairs. He carried his instruction into the households of the people, bringing whole families in their own homes under the influence of his divine presence. Those who think to preserve their religion by hiding it within stone walls to escape the contamination of the world, lose golden opportunities to enlighten and benefit humanity. The Saviour sought men in the public streets, in private houses, on the boats, in the synagogue, by the shores of lakes, and at the marriage feasts. JESUS commenced the work of reformation by bringing himself into close sympathy with humanity. He was a Jew, and he designed to leave a perfect pattern of one who was a Jew inwardly. While he rebuked the Pharisees for their pretentious piety, endeavoring to free the people from the senseless exactions that bound them, he showed the greatest veneration for the law of God, and taught obedience of its precepts. Jesus rebuked intemperance, self-indulgence, and folly; yet he was social in his nature. He accepted invitations to dine with the learned and noble, as well as the poor and afflicted. On these occasions, his conversation was elevating and instructive, holding his hearers entranced. He gave no license to scenes of dissipation and revelry, yet innocent happiness was pleasing to him. A Jewish marriage was a solemn and impressive occasion, the pleasure and joy of which were not displeasing to the Son of man. By attending this feast, Jesus sanctioned marriage as a divine institution; and through all his subsequent ministry, he paid the marriage covenant a marked respect to illustrating many important truths by it.—Great Controversy, by Mrs. E. G. White, Vol. 2, pp. 99-110. A MAN who is Christ's, and who has Christ's work to do, would do better to devote himself to that work of Christ which he has to do, than to worry over his lack of fitness for that work, or even than to agonize after a fuller fitness for its prosecution. It requires no self-examination to convince an intelligent disciple of Christ that he is imperfect, and that he is full of faults. And when that fact is fairly before his mind, if he waits to attain to perfectness before beginning to work for Christ, he will wait indefinitely. If, however, simply recognizing the truth that Christ can use even such a person as he is, a disciple of Christ will give himself to be used accordingly, he will best honor Him who chooses the weak things of the world, and the base things of the world, and the things that are despised, yea, and the things that are not, for the compassing of the mightiest results, in order that no flesh shall glory before God. Personal prayer for personal gifts and personal graces is sometimes a misuse of time on the part of those who ought to forget themselves in their absorbed devotedness in the work to which they have been set of God, and whose prayers ought to be rather for guidance and strength in the use of the graces they have, than for a larger supply of graces. And an undue emphasis of one's personal unworthiness as an instrument in God's hand may be a result of too much thought of one's self, and too little thought of God's ability to do everything he chooses to do with even such an instrument as this. "Then said I, Ah, Lord God! behold, I cannot speak; for I am a child. But the Lord said unto me, Say not, I am a child; for thou shalt go, to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak." As it was thus in the case of Jeremiah, so it may be with every child of God who is called to work for God.—S. S. Times. The Reality of Heaven
By H. C. Hayden
HEAVEN is nothing if it be not realistic. It is somewhere; it has a local habitation as well as a name. So had it to all Bible-men of faith. We cannot do ourselves a greater wrong than to be, in our thinking and our living, depreciating our inheritance by refusing to localize it and robe it in beauty and fill it with spiritual riches.—Rev. H. C. Hayden, D. D. Christian Obedience.
By Herrick Johnson
ONE essential characteristic of Christian obedience is, it is total. It makes no terms. Does obedience cost? No matter. It is God's will; therefore it is my will. Controversy, choice, or selection in the presence of divine command is treason. "Enter into thy closet" is just as binding as "Thou shalt not steal." "Love your enemies" is just as much of God as "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ." If we can make choice of such commands as we feel like obeying and disregard the rest, what are we but masters instead of subjects, dictating terms instead of receiving orders? If our obedience is genuine, it will be, like the Rechabites', total.—Rev. Herrick Johnson, D. D. (Lesson 1.—Sabbath, April 24.) 1. To WHAT place did the Israelites come about two months after they left Egypt? "In the third month, when the children of Israel were gone forth out of the land of Egypt, the same day came they into the wilderness of Sinai." Ex. 19:1. 2. What did the Lord say he would do on the third day afterward? "And be ready against the third day; for the third day the Lord will come in the sight of all the people upon Mount Sinai." Verse 11. 3. What preparations were the people required to make for this event? "And the Lord said unto Moses, Go unto the people, and sanctify them to-day and to-morrow, and let them wash their clothes, and be ready against the third day; for the third day the Lord will come down in the sight of all the people upon Mount Sinai." Verses 10, 11. 4. What precaution was taken to keep the people from touching the mountain? "And thou shalt set bounds unto the people round about, saying, Take heed to yourselves, that ye go not up into the mount, or touch the border of it; whosoever toucheth the mount shall be surely put to death." "And Moses said unto the Lord, The people cannot come up to Mount Sinai; for thou chargedst us, saying, Set bounds about the mount, and sanctify it." Verses 12, 23. 5. What was said to be the result if any one should touch it? "And thou shalt set bounds unto the people round about, saying, Take heed to yourselves, that ye go not up into the mount, or touch the border of it; whosoever toucheth the mount shall be surely put to death. There shall not a hand touch it, but he shall surely be stoned, or shot through; whether it be beast or man, it shall not live; when the trumpet soundeth long, they shall come up to the mount." "And the Lord said unto Moses, Go down, charge the people, lest they break through unto the Lord to gaze, and many of them perish." Verses 12, 13, 21. 6. What dreadful things did the people hear and see on the third day? "And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that was in the camp trembled." Verse 16. 7. What caused these things? "And the Lord came down upon Mount Sinai, on the top of the mount; and the Lord called Moses up to the top of the mount; and Moses went up." Verse 20. 8. How was the mountain affected by the presence of the Lord? "And Mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because the Lord descended upon it in fire; and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked greatly." Ex. 19:18. 9. Who attended the Lord on this occasion? "The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels; the Lord is among them, as in Sinai, in the holy place." Ps. 68:17. 10. For what purpose did the Lord come down on Sinai? "Thou camest down also upon Mount Sinai, and spakest with them from heaven, and gavest them right judgments, and true laws, good statutes and commandments." Nehemiah 9:13. "And he said, The Lord came from Sinai, and rose up from Seir unto them; he shined forth from Mount Paran, and he came with ten thousands of saints; from his right hand went a fiery law for them." Deut. 33:2. 11. Where do we find that which the Lord spoke from Sinai? Ex. 20:1-17. 12. When the Lord had spoken these words, what did the people do? "And all the people saw the thunderings, and the lightnings, and the noise of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking; and when the people saw it, they removed, and stood afar off." Ex. 20:18. 13. What request did they make? "And they said unto Moses, Speak thou with us, and we will hear; but let not God speak with us, lest we die." Ex. 20:19. "And ye said, Behold, the Lord our God hath showed us his glory and his greatness, and we have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire; we have seen this day that God doth talk with man, and he liveth. Now therefore why should we die? for this great fire will consume us; if we hear the voice of the Lord our God any more, then we shall die. For who is there of all flesh, that hath heard the voice of the living God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived? Go thou near, and hear all that the Lord our God shall say; and speak thou unto us all that the Lord our God shall speak unto thee; and we will hear it, and do it." Deut. 5:24-27. "And the sound of a trumpet, and the voice of words; which voice they that heard entreated that the word should not be spoken to them any more." Heb. 12:19. 14. Did the Lord grant their request? "And the Lord heard the voice of your words, when ye spake unto me; and the Lord said unto me, I have heard the voice of the words of this people, which they have spoken unto thee; they have well said all that they have spoken." Deut. 5:28. 15. In what manner did he give them subsequent instruction? "Go say to them, Get you into your tents again. But as for thee, stand thou here by me, and I will speak unto thee all the commandments, and the statutes, and the judgments, which thou shalt teach them, that they may do them in the land which I give them to possess it." Deut. 5:30, 31. The Perfect Law of the Lord
"The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple." Ps. 19: 7. Wrong Home Influences.
By Leslie Grey
“WHY, the stamp on this letter has not been canceled,” said Mr. Martin Moore, taking up an envelope which had been postmarked with pen from a country post-office. “You can remove the stamp carefully to use again as well as not.” “But I shall do no such thing,” replied the person thus addressed, to whom the letter had been sent. “Oh, well, then I can do it for you, and when you get out of stamps I’ll lend you one,” was Mr. Moore’s laughing reply. “You don’t suppose Uncle Sam will ever miss a two cent stamp, do you?” “It is the principle of the thing,” said the other speaker; “and we have no more right to steal two cents from the Government than a larger amount, and I will never touch that stamp again.” This conversation occurred in the home circle, where the children listened to the father’s plausible reasoning, and how could they help being influenced by it? And if in after years, the father, whose opinion the bright-eyed boy respects, finds him practicing larger frauds, will the parent call to mind this and similar lessons taught, indirectly it may be, in the home circle? Here is another case in which both deceit and dishonesty are instilled into the young mind. Little Robbie writes a letter to Uncle Robert, and in it, boy-like, states that he has saved a dollar, and is going to put it into the savings-bank. Now Robbie made figures to represent the money, and Uncle Robert read it ten dollars instead of one. “Well, well,” he remarks, “the boy is doing well to save so much.” Now the uncle is of a thrifty disposition and approves of boys saving their pennies and dimes. So he writes to Robbie’s mother that if her little son has ten dollars to put into the bank, he will send another ten soon to add to the sum for a snug nest-egg. “But I didn’t write ten dollars,” said Robbie, when he read the letter. “Uncle made a mistake in my figures.” “Well, never mind now,” replied the mother. “Uncle Robert can spare ten dollars as well as not, so we need not say anything about the mistake when we write.” Thus the child’s better and more honorable impulses are checked, and a lesson is early learned in greed and actual dishonesty. Does this mother, a professed Christian, anxious for the moral and religious welfare of her children, consider what tares she herself is sowing in the young mind? Said a lady to her guest, “We will take the first train after dinner, and go to call on cousin Alice.” At the station, when the visitor speaks of getting her ticket, the hostess replies, “No matter about it now.” So the matter is left to be arranged later. But, as no fare is paid on the car, the subject is referred to again by the guest after returning home. “Oh! the conductor does not call for our tickets half the time on these short trips,” replied the lady; “when he does, we pass him the change, and when not we save our fare.” “But I would much rather pay my fare than to save it in this way,” said the visitor. “Oh, well, if conductors do not have time to take up the tickets, that is their lookout, not ours,” is the careless rejoinder; “besides, we go so often we ought to have some free rides.” And this is said before the children, who, doubtless, are accustomed to getting free rides when they can, and are thus learning dishonest practices in little things which cannot fail to blunt the moral sensibilities in reference to larger dealings with mankind. Thus, in a thousand trifling ways, are petty deceits and peccadilloes practiced by people who would scorn to be thought dishonest, and who never seem to think what their influence may be in the family and among those with whom they have business relations. Is it a wonder that from such lessons learned in the home circle larger defalcations come, that the love of greed is made subservient to bitter ends? Strict integrity is a principle which needs to be inculcated, both by precept and example, in the home, the counting-house, the workshop, and in all the affairs of life.—Leslie Grey, in the Congregationalist. Bert’s Queer Gift.
By Kate W. Hamilton
A CARELESS nail—it must have been the nail which was careless—had torn Bert’s coat; but Aunt Marion had just finished the bit of delicate darning that made the jagged rent invisible. She was shaking out the garment to hang it away, when something dropped from one of the pockets and fell on the carpet at her feet. She picked it up—a little brown leafy roll—sniffed its odor disdainfully, and, resisting her first inclination to toss it into the grate, slowly laid it on the table beside her. "Well, that is just what I have suspected for some time," she said. "Poor Bert! I suppose he thinks himself on the sure road to manliness now." The words were spoken only to herself, however; she said nothing to any one else about it, though she sat for a few minutes with a very thoughtful face before she hung the coat away and took up other work. If Bert missed anything from his pocket, he made no inquiries. He was thankful that Aunt Marion made none, and, as she did not, he soon forgot the trifling affair in what he considered more important matters. Chief among these was his birthday, which came a few days later, and it was a very bright face which greeted the parcels that lay beside his plate at breakfast. "But what is this?" he asked with a puzzled look, as, in among the books, telescopes, and half a dozen other things that he wanted, he discovered a neat little box holding only a short steel chain. "That? Why, that is a wrist chain," answered Aunt Marion, with great earnestness, as if the question were a surprising one. "Is it the right size, I wonder? I had to guess at that." She came around to his side, and, lifting the chain, slipped a steel ring attached to it over his little finger; then, drawing the ends of the chain down, she fastened them around his wrist. "Fits exactly, doesn't it," she said enthusiastically. "Yes'm, but—" Bert hesitated. From her manner he fancied that it was something he ought to know all about and appreciate very highly; but he really could not see its value. "What is it for, Aunt Marion?" "Why, to wear on your wrist. Don't you see?" replied his aunt, giving it another twist and settling it to her satisfaction. "Some new fashion that I haven't heard about, I suppose," muttered Bert to himself, looking dolefully at his new adornment as he carried his treasures up to his room. "Women have a fancy for every new-fangled notion, so I presume auntie thinks this is something very nice; but I declare I don't see the sense of it." He appreciated it still less as he went about his morning work. It caught, tangled, and obtruded itself disagreeably. "Not very convenient," he ventured to suggest to Aunt Marion. But that lady only answered placidly— "Oh, I don't think you will mind that very much when you get accustomed to it." So she really expected him to wear the troublesome thing and get used to it? He was pondering the subject when his friend Ralph came in to see the new telescope. "Hello! what are you wearing that dog-collar for?" he questioned curiously, as Bert displayed his hand in arranging the glass. "It's a new thing? Didn't you ever see one before?" asked Bert, coloring a little. "Lots of them—on the necks of canines," declared Ralph with unceremonious frankness; "but I don't see what you want to wear one on your arm for." "Well, the fact is, I don't," confessed Bert; "but I don't know exactly what to do about it. You see, it is one of my birthday gifts—some new-fashioned arrangement that has taken auntie's fancy." It was a fashion of which Ralph had never heard, and he said so. His visit and comments left Bert still less pleased with the odd gift he had received. At last he decided to talk it over with Aunt Marion. "You see, I'm ever so much obliged to you, auntie; but I don't know just what to do with the thing," he explained. "What is the good of wearing it?" "Oh, I don't suppose there is any good in it," answered Aunt Marion serenely. "Well, I don't think it is very—ornamental, you know," ventured Bert, hesitatingly. "Oh dear, no!—not the least bit ornamental," assented his aunt. "And, besides, it's inconvenient." "Probably; but I think you would grow accustomed to that after a while, and not notice it much." "But what is the use of getting accustomed to it—a chain like that?" demanded Bert, growing more and more bewildered. "What would you want to wear it for?" "I? Oh, I wouldn't want to wear it for anything," declared Aunt Marion as placidly as before. "It is unsightly, inconvenient, and utterly useless. I wouldn't wear it; but your taste might be different." "You must have a high opinion of my supply of common sense, Aunt Marion!" Bert flushed indignantly. "Do you think I am silly enough to like what nobody else would want?" "I have been studying your tastes lately, and you seem to like some things that are just what you describe my gift to be," pursued Aunt Marion, drawing a cigar from her work-table and laying it in Bert's hand. "Here is this, for instance, that rolled from your pocket the other day. Is the habit of smoking useful to body or soul, Bert? Is it ornamental? Isn't it considerable trouble to acquire? and will it not be expensive, and often inconvenient to yourself and disagreeable to others after it is acquired? Is it anything, after all, but a chain, my boy?" Bert said nothing; he only threw the cigar into the fire and walked away. But he answered rather curtly a day or two later—though no one but Ralph understood him—when a companion invited him to smoke, "No, thank you. I have one more dog-collar than I have any use for hanging in my room now."—Kate W. Hamilton, in Sunday School Visitor. The Home Circle.
By R. H. Stoddard
LET all the good thou doest to man
A gift be, not a debt;
And he will more remember thee
The more thou dost forget.
Do it as one who knows it not,
But rather like a vine,
That year by year brings forth its grapes,
And cares not for the wine!
A horse when he has run his race,
A dog, when tracked the game,
A bee when it has honey made—
Do not their deeds proclaim.
Be silent then, and like the vine,
Bring forth what is in thee;
It is thy duty to be good,
And man's to honor thee.
—R. H. Stoddard, in the Independent. Using Every Help to Know God’s Will
If we are sincere in desiring to know God’s mind, we will use all the helps within our reach. All that God gives us will we gladly use, that we may know his will.—Sel. THE journals of one Monday morning added another to the list of inscrutable crimes awaiting detection. The body of a young female was found, on Saturday, in an out-of-the-way and desolate locality in the town of Sharon, Mass., under circumstances thought to imply that the woman had been murdered a half-mile away and carried to that spot to be abandoned there. The fact of saddest significance to us about it is, that it is stated to be the body of "an unknown woman." Almost all the population of the town having gazed upon her features—not uncomely in the repose of death—declare her to be strange to them. And so far, after forty-eight hours of research, no clew to her identity had been found. No home was reported to miss her. No boarding-house, even, claimed her as an inmate for whom it had a quasi-responsibility. She had dropped out of this life, and seemed to have left no socket behind whose emptiness mourned her. We have before referred to this sort of thing—which, alas, is no novelty in the annals even of New England crime. If we remember correctly, once, and not many months ago, where a somewhat similar enigma presented itself for solution, there were more than one hundred applications from homes which did miss one member, in many cases which had missed one for many months, to know whether the body, awaiting identification bore the semblance of that missing member or not. But what kind of homes can these be, whose parents, or whose children, can thus disappear and leave no sign! And what kind of a past must such an incident reveal in such a home? An unknown woman! Some mother was in pain at her birth-cry, and thought she was a sweet babe; and hushed her to rest upon her bosom; and taught her to talk all manner of dear words, as she began to prattle; and watched her expanding growth with loving eye, and proudly thought of good days to come for her. Yet here she lies, doubtfully, if not dishonorably, dead; and, somehow, something dreadful has come in to sever her from that mother's love and care, so that a great guilt lies between them, and nobody knows whose daughter she is. Ah, fathers and mothers, if you want to avoid such a fate for those who are bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh, see to it that they have a home that is a real one; that they love it as the best place in the world for them! Keep them in at nights. Keep them out of the streets in the daytime. Watch their companions. Watch the books and newspapers they read, and see that they have such ones to read as will win and bless them. Watch their speech, and set them yourselves a good example therein. Keep the run of them by day and by night, remembering that the trouble of doing this is a part of the price of good citizenship, as well as of faithful humanity. And especially remember that, in such a world as this, there is no security that even your sons and daughters will go well, and prove an honor to you, and a blessing to the world, except as religion shall preserve them. Go, then, before them in that godly way which hath promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come, and do your best to secure that they follow after. And, boys and girls, if you want to make the most and the best of yourselves, be obedient, keepers at home, honest, honorable, faithful to every duty, humbly and gratefully uniting with your parents in all well-doing. Remember that you have but one life to live. Remember that a happy home is the happiest thing in that life, after godliness; and that "good times" on which home does not smile, almost always end in bad times and ruin. Don't drift off and be a waif floating on a perilous stream; if "anything happens," only to be known as "unknown."—Congregationalist. Health and Temperance.
By The Spectator
WHAT men chiefly forget in their holiday-making is that, besides discontinuing their ordinary occupations, and substituting for them other occupations which awaken a different class of interests, they should find something for themselves to do which will awaken a new sense of power within them distinct from that which their ordinary vocation awakens. That is the truest new creation or recreation of self, which brings into exercise disused powers. The politician who recalls his delight in poetry, perhaps even his own poetic powers; the philanthropist who returns to his special scientific tastes to find them as keen as ever; the scientific man who fills himself with the world of beauty and art; the scholar who revives his theology; the theologian who rubs up his astronomy,—all these create themselves anew, so long as they do not undertake anything too fatiguing, in a sense far more genuine than those who simply amuse themselves during the whole time of their holidays. It is the revivification of dormant powers, wherever that is possible, which has most effect in refreshing the whole mind,—in restoring to it its vividness and force. The practical world in which busy men and women live, is a very narrow one, which only stimulates half their powers. The true secret of recreation is to find, where that is possible, a stimulus for those powers which are not exerted in life's ordinary routine. And though this, of course, is more or less effected by every journey in which wonder is excited and the sense of beauty gratified, it is not effected half as systematically and effectually as it might be, if men would keep more steadily in view the half-submerged tastes and studies of their non-professional life. A man becomes a new man by recovering a submerged portion of himself, in a sense far more real than that in which mere rest and passive enjoyment can make him a new man.—The Spectator. A Bushel of Corn.
By Censor
A FARMER sells a bushel of corn to a laborer for forty cents, and it enables him to work a week and earn a week's wages in raising more corn or in other useful productive work. He sells another bushel to the distiller at the same rate. This, with the addition of a little strychnine, will make four gallons of whisky, which is worth, say, twenty cents a gallon, or eighty cents, upon which the distiller has gained forty cents. Then the Government comes in and collects $3.60 on this transformed bushel of corn, and it becomes worth $4.40. Then it goes through the hands of dealers, jobbers, and retailers. They fix it up with water, chemicals, tobacco, turpentine, etc., till it becomes about seven gallons of a variety of liquors in the same cask, all the way from old French brandy (private stock) worth $20 a gallon, down to common rat-poison whisky, at $2.50, according as people ask for it. When retailed over the bar at sixty drinks to the gallon, it yields 420 drinks, at from five to ten cents, or an average of seven and a half cents, amounting to $31.50. And the farmer, and his neighbors, and his workmen, buy back the bushel of corn at a loss of the corn and $31.10 cash. And probably ten days' work is lost, a fight or two raised, and a lawsuit incurred, or a crime committed. Query: How much clear profit, exclusive of the virtue of the act, did the farming community and the other people of the township make out of that bushel of corn sold to the distiller.—Censor. Liquor Licenses in Massachusetts.
THE law of Massachusetts provides that the liquor traffic in that State shall be regulated under the system of local option. There are 348 cities and towns in the State, which have the power to decide the question by a popular vote, each for itself, whether the sale of intoxicating liquors shall be licensed therein or not. 230 towns, last year, refused to grant any licenses; 112 towns, including nearly all the cities of the State, voted in favor of license; and some half a dozen towns did not vote at all on the subject. The aggregate vote cast in all the towns and cities of the State for license was 92,419, and the vote against license was 81,161, showing a majority of 11,258 in favor of license, of which majority Boston contributed about 10,000 votes, while about two-thirds of the towns were opposed to license. How the matter would stand if the principle of prohibition for the whole State were submitted to popular vote it is impossible to tell. Party politics would come into the question, and would be likely to change the figures as given under local option. These figures, however, show in Massachusetts a very strong opposition to the granting of licenses for the sale of intoxicating liquors. This opposition, in about two-thirds of the municipalities thereof, last year, carried the day.—N. Y. Independent. Of all the men in the world who ought to let tobacco alone while engaged about their work, those who handle food take the lead. It is most disgusting to one who objects to tobacco smoke, and there are few women who do not, to see marketmen standing over such easily affected articles as meat or butter, with cigars in their mouths. A walk through any of our markets will show plenty of men doing this very thing. For the sake of decency the cigars ought to be kept out of sight during business hours. We have seen men standing over a butter tub with a long ash at the end of their cigars that threatened at any moment to fall directly into the butter. An old smoker would perhaps see nothing wrong in this; but the majority of those who eat this food are not "old smokers." The public have no right to say that a man shall not smoke, though there would be a great deal more happiness in the world if such a right did exist; but customers certainly have a right to say that their food shall not be tainted with what to them is most objectionable.—Southern Progress. THAT popular abomination known as "Beef, wine, and iron," which is now sold so extensively, not only by druggists, but by tradesmen of various kinds, deserves a little special attention from the medical profession. It is an agreeable mixture to the sight and taste; its name is a triple combination of seductive mononyms; while, taken into the stomach, it acts as a gentle "pick up" to the worn-out and over-sensitive nerves of the ladies. It has, in consequence, become a popular, if not a fashionable, tipple, and is indiscriminately used to an extent that is, we believe, not entirely free from danger. Every medical man knows that the amount of actual beef or food in these various preparations is insignificant, and that it is the wine, after all, which makes them like it, and that leads so many persons to purchase their second bottle. There is no good reason why this mixture is allowed to be sold by those unlicensed to sell wines, and, if the law supports the practice, it is the duty of physicians, at least, to try to lessen it. Inebriety can result from these tipples.—Medical Record. The Drunkard and the Glutton
“The drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty.”