p. 107 | Signs of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 7. (12/19/1892)

Earlier text: The Twenty-three Hundred Days

A BAPTIST PROTEST AGAINST STATE AND CHURCH LEGISLATION.

By Enoch H. Sweet

BY REV. ENOCH H. SWEET.

[From the Baptist Watchman.]

To THE EDITOR OF THE Watchman: A petition is in circulation in the State of Vermont, in which the petitioners memorialize "the honorable Senate and House of Representatives of the Vermont Legislature" for the passage of "a law regulating the running of railroad trains on Sunday." The petition is addressed to pastors of all denominations in the State—Protestant and Roman Catholic—to be circulated among their churches and congregations.

Everybody in Vermont will probably admit the existence of the evils which the petitioners deprecate. Christian people generally will sympathize with the avowed purpose to "lessen" the desecration of the Sabbath day. But the writer wishes hereby to express an emphatic opinion against the method adopted for attaining this purpose, and to expose the subtle error underlying such a movement. The churches cannot, without adopting an anti-scriptural policy, implore the State for aid to support the Sabbath as a religious institution. To understand fully the purpose of the petition, we should note the following significant facts:—

1. The petition emanated from an ecclesiastical gathering. In the preamble it is stated that action was taken to memorialize the Legislature by the "General Convention of Congregational Ministers and Churches of Vermont."

2. The petitioners are asked to subscribe to the following: "We, the undersigned, in behalf of the churches and Christian sentiment of the State, do hereby respectfully petition your honorable bodies for the passage of a law curtailing the complained-of abuse." The design is here confessed to be a law "in behalf of the churches and Christian sentiment," etc.

3. "The committee appointed by the convention" have sent uniform copies of the petition to the pastors, with the following direction: "Will you not kindly see that the accompanying petition is circulated among your church and congregation, and all others it is desirable to reach?" Thus the signatures shall be secured by the pastors from their churches and congregations, etc.

This movement is, therefore, seen to be nothing less than a petition emanating from an ecclesiastical body, drawn up in behalf of the churches, to be circulated by the pastors among the churches, etc. The following considerations are suggested to the Watchman readers in Vermont: Are churches justified in invoking Legislatures for laws in the interests of religion? Shall they appeal to the secular powers to support a religious institution? Shall they take up the sword to defend the sanctity of the Sabbath day? God forbid! "The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds" (Paul). "My kingdom is not of this world; if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight" (Jesus).

Let not the hydra-headed monster of the past—the union of Church and State—be resurrected, by Protestants, at least, in these last days. Let not Christian hands be put to a memorial for State legislation in support of religious institutions. May our appeals be directed rather to the throne of God, whence cometh the help of the saints. "Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts."

Winsor, Vt.

FROM ROMANISM TO CHRIST.

By Clement Maitland

[Translated from the Spanish by F. C. Kelley. Taken from El Abogado Christiano Ilustrado, published in the City of Mexico.]

CLEMENT MAITLAND, once a monk in the Oratory of Brompton, describes his recent emancipation from Romanism in the following terms:—

I have just abandoned the Church of Rome, and, by the power of God, have become a Christian and a Protestant. My experience may be of interest to your readers, and perhaps a means to awaken an indifferent church, and showing at the same time the horrors and wickedness of the Papacy.

My father was a well-known minister of the ritualistic Church of England, and rector of a pretty village in Kent. In 1866, when I was about one year old, he left his church and united with the Church of Rome, and I suppose I was received into the church at the same time. In a short time my father became a Roman priest, and entered the order of "Sacrificers of St. Charles" in Bayswater, where he resided until his death, which occurred when I was five years old.

During this time I lived in a convent school of the Dominicans, in Staffordshire, and it was there I commenced my acquaintance with Romanism. Only one Protestant relative visited me; but as her visits did not please the monks, they lied to my aunt by saying that I did not wish to see her again, thus cutting off my relation with Protestants and with the world.

At the age of fourteen I was transferred to the Oratory of Brompton, in order to begin the career of a priest. I should observe that this order of oratory is the richest, the most powerful and severe, in England, and, at the same time, the most dangerous. Their special work is the conversion of England to the Papacy. Their recruits come from the ritualistic clergy and the members of the Anglican Church, and they let nothing pass that will help to accomplish this end. To judge by the results, their efforts are successful, for each week several converts are received into the Roman Church through the work of this order.

My daily duties consisted in the study of theology and some regular religious exercises. My religious opinions were those of a hypocrite and a fanatical Romanist. I believed implicitly all the church taught, and that all those out of the Church of Rome could not be saved.

At the age of sixteen, after having served as a novice, I took the vows of obedience, poverty, and chastity, and became a monk of the oratory. All went well for two years. I was at the point of being ordained a priest, having previously been admitted to the sub-deaconship, when doubts commenced to trouble me in respect to the truth of religion. I thought: "In a few days I will be a priest, and will be invested with the power of God, and can pardon the sins of my companions." And the more I thought of this admirable power the more I doubted its reality. My confessor told me that my doubts were the suggestions of the devil, and I sincerely believed it. My mind being thus troubled, I applied myself to my religious duties with more care and diligence; I imposed severer penance, but all in vain; my doubts increased, and I saw that the Roman Church is a cheat and an impostor.

I could not believe the teachings of this church, so I became an atheist. Notwithstanding the condition of my mind, I was obliged to comply daily for eighteen months to a series of religious practices, masses, litanies, and ministry, in which I did not believe.

Last March my superiors, with the object of removing my doubts, and also taking me for a time from the surroundings in which I lived, resolved that I should make a journey to Rome and to the Holy Land, in company with three priests. For two months I remained in the monastery of the Franciscans of Jerusalem, subject to observation. I scarcely need to say that if I have met Romanism in England as a corrupt, bewitched, and superstitious system, in Jerusalem it is a hundred times worse. For example, the traffic Romanism makes with the sacrament and relics in the holy places is still more scandalous.

They obliged me upon my hands and knees to run over great distances, and made me kiss pieces of marble and different parts of wood, iron, and old bones which they had for sacred relics. They gave me a parchment, signed and sealed by the Latin patriarch, in which they granted me an indulgence and a pardon of all my sins for future years.

At Jerusalem, in the monasteries, I met the focus of corruption, for everywhere abounded laziness, drunkenness, and immorality. There they said and proposed to me things not found in Sodom.

In the month of May they took me to Nazareth by way of Mount Carmel, where I was in retirement for a time. At Nazareth I found all of the city, except a few Protestants, given to the veneration of Mary. The cry of the Nazarenes is, "Great is Mary of Nazareth." Little or nothing is said of God or Christ. Some of their frauds are shameful; they put them into games, or plays, in order to impose them on the credulity of the devout; for example, the image of Mary, which they say was found near the supposed place of annunciation; it has two small lamps within its head, in order to give the effect that the eyes have life. I was appointed helper of the brother who had charge of cleaning these lamps.

While I remained at Nazareth, I resolved to escape. Until then I had continued a firm adherent to Romanism, nourishing the vain hope that some day my doubts would vanish. Now I was determined to renounce a system to me intolerable. Already I was commencing to lose the respect that a man ought to have for himself. Therefore, one Sunday afternoon, in place of going to my cell, I went to the church of the Protestant missionary society in search of the native pastor, who resides in Nazareth. After a long conversation with him I returned to the monastery, where I remained until Tuesday morning, when I repeated my visit. He gave me at this time the address of the missionary society's English minister, who resides at Acca, and advised me to stay with him.

On returning to the street I was met by the priests, who had discovered my intentions, and had stirred up the Arabs against me. They were all very angry and excited, and wanted to take me by force to the monastery. I fled like a slave seeking life and liberty, and fortunately reached Acca. The missionary received me kindly, and

directed me to the Bible, which until that time had been to me a sealed book. I told him that I was an atheist, and did not wish anything that came from his religion. Nevertheless, God, by his Spirit, guided me to the reading of the blessed word, and there I found Jesus as the only way, the truth, and the life, and I found that the religion of Christ was very different to that of the pope. It convinced me of Christianity. I believed the word of God, and to-day I rejoice in "the truth as it is in Christ Jesus." Behold a new creature in Christ Jesus! See a slave made free! Yes, free indeed, because the Son hath truly made me free.

The 25th of May, 1892, which I passed in Acca, was a happy day for me, because it was there that I found rest, peace, and joy in a living and personal Saviour. It was no illusion, nor a mere emotion, that gave me these things. Blessed reality! something that Romanism could not give me, simply because it knows nothing of these things.

Praise God with me for having liberated me from the power of unholy Rome, and brought me to the glorious light, to the liberty and truth of the gospel. I have suffered much from persecution excited against me by the priests, but God is with me, and by his grace I can proclaim a good profession of faith before men.

Jerusalem, Palestine, August, 1892.

ONLY A BOY.

MORE than half a century ago a faithful minister coming early to the kirk, met one of his deacons, whose face wore a very resolute but distressed expression.

"I came early to meet you," he said. "I have something on my conscience to say to you. Pastor, there must be something radically wrong in your preaching and work; there has been only one person added to the church in a whole year, and he is only a boy."

The old minister listened. His eyes moistened, and his thin hand trembled on his broad-headed cane.

"I feel it all," he said, "I feel it, but God knows that I have tried to do my duty, and I can trust him for the results."

"Yes, yes," said the deacon, "but 'by their fruits ye shall know them,' and one new member, and he, too, only a boy, seems to me rather a slight evidence of true faith and zeal. I don't want to be hard, but I have this matter on my conscience, and I have done but my duty in speaking plainly."

"True," said the old man; "but 'charity suffereth long and is kind; beareth all things, hopeth all things.' Aye, there you have it, 'hopeth all things.' I have great hopes of that one boy, Robert. Some seed that we sow bears fruit late, but that fruit is generally the most precious of all."

The old minister went to the pulpit that day with a grieved and heavy heart. He closed his discourse with dim and tearful eyes. He wished that his work was done forever, and that he was at rest among the graves under the blooming trees in the old kirkyard.

He lingered in the dear old kirk after the rest were gone. He wished to be alone. The place was sacred and inexpressibly dear to him. It had been his spiritual home from his youth. Before this altar he had prayed over the dead forms of a bygone generation, and had welcomed the children of a new generation; and here, yes, here, he had been told at last that his work was no longer owned and blessed. No one remained—no one? "Only a boy."

The boy was Robert Moffat. He watched the trembling old man. His soul was filled with loving sympathy. He went to him, and laid his hand on his black gown.

"Well, Robert?" said the minister.

"Do you think if I were willing to work hard for an education I could ever become a preacher?"

"A preacher?"

"Perhaps a missionary."

There was a long pause. Tears filled the eyes of the old minister. At length he said: "This heals the ache in my heart, Robert. I see the divine hand now. May God bless you, my boy. Yes, I think you will become a preacher."

Some few years ago there returned to London from Africa an aged missionary. His name was spoken with reverence. When he went into an assembly, the people rose; when he spoke in public, there was a deep silence. Princes stood uncovered before him; nobles invited him to their homes.

He had added a province to the church of Christ on earth, had brought under the gospel influence the most savage of African chiefs, had given the translated Bible to strange tribes, had enriched with valuable knowledge the Royal Geographical Society, and had honored the humble place of his birth, the Scottish kirk, the United Kingdom, and the universal missionary cause.

It is hard to trust when no evidence of fruit appears. But the harvest of right intentions is sure. The old minister sleeps beneath the trees in the humble place of his labors, but men remember his work because of what he was to that one boy and what that one boy was to the world.

"Only a boy!"

Do thou thy work; it shall succeed In thine or in another's day, And if denied the victor's meed Thou shalt not miss the toiler's pay. | Youth's Companion.

DOCKING HORSES' TAILS.

By American Shipbuilder

THE docking of horses' tails by anglomanics who ape English manners and customs should be made a criminal offense, punishable by imprisonment for not less than one

year. Nature provided the horse with a tail, to brush off the flies, mosquitoes, and other insects, just as the Creator furnished man with hands, to protect himself. There are no mosquitoes and scarcely any flies in Great Britain to bother animals. A man who will wantonly cut a horse's tail should be compelled to stand on a sugar dock in hot weather with his hands tied behind his back, and he would then know the agony and torture a poor horse suffers with nothing but a stump of a tail to drive off these pests and tormentors.—American Shipbuilder.

BEN ABDEL'S CHRISTMAS.

By Emma P. Seabury

BY EMMA P. SEABURY.

You have heard the olden story, of the Magi and their glory, How they came to Bethlehem by that one star's guiding light, Their gifts to Mary bringing, their costly treasures flinging, But have you heard why the little inn was crowded so that night?

Ben Abdel's heart was fired with the prophet's words inspired; He had read the holy pages till he almost seemed to hear The multitude that voices his gladness; he rejoices, For the time is ripe, the day fulfilled, his dear Messiah near.

So he journeyed through the nation with pomp and exaltation, With retinue and pageant, his gold and gems to bring; And his proud heart throbbed the faster as he thought of his dear Master, And the splendid, royal welcome that should greet Judea's King.

While he prayed in rapt devotion, came a murmur and commotion, And a sound of voices rising o'er the Babel of the din, While, with stolen glances wary, he saw the gentle Mary, And he heard them say to Joseph there was no room in the inn.

In the glory of the dawning of that early Christmas morning, Came the heralds full of wonder from the shepherds' tale afar, How they heard the angels singing; came the Indian sages bringing Gold and frankincense and jewels, guided thither by a star.

While Ben Abdel searched the heaven for the sign that should be given, When the King came in his glory, the Messiah, the Adored, In the stable's lowly manger, in the bosom of the stranger, Nestled, like a dove, the Saviour, the love message of the Lord.

And he went in unbelieving, as he scorned their vain deceiving, Never dreaming that his prayer had reached his Father's ear; With a faith unwavered going, hoping, praying, never knowing That the Saviour of his people and his kingdom was so near.

Oh, how often, in the gloaming of our faith, we all are roaming, Passing blessings, answered prayers, and the goals we long to win, When the joy, the peace, the sweetness of our purpose, in completeness, Wait, as Christ for proud Ben Abdel, in the stable at the inn.

You whose hearts are filled with scorning for the Jew this Christmas morning, Wondering at his Christ rejected, at his doubting blindness, too; You who know his holy living, his Gethsemane, his giving, In your heart's most sacred temple does your Saviour wait for you?

—The Advance.

Holy Subjection

By Fort Collins Baptist

Holy subjection is sweeter than sinful sovereignty. Power is sometimes pleasure; obedience is always delight. 'Tis rapture to be wholly the Christ's. 'Tis continual thorns to serve self alone. Self is worth least when exalted most.

THE CHURCHES ARE NOT PLEASED WHEN THE WORKMEN ARE.

SUNDAY laws are always in the interests of churches, and are really designed to compel church attendance by leaving the laborer no other place to go. The following concerning the Sunday laws in Germany illustrates this; the next thing will be that the Sunday beer garden must go:—

The new Sunday laws in Germany went partly into effect July 1 and do not appear to be giving satisfaction. Their intention was to reduce the hours of Sunday labor to a minimum and to secure a larger church attendance of working people. They provide that in no case shall Sunday work be extended beyond five hours, while from 10 to 12 in the morning and after 2 o'clock in the afternoon there should be no work whatever. In actual operation the effect seems to be to keep those workingmen who used to do a half day's work Sunday in their shops until 2 o'clock instead of merely until noon, as before, while they spend the time from 10 to 12 not in church, but in beer gardens and cabarets, till the embargoed hours pass and they can finish their work and go home. The church authorities in Berlin are already admitting that the laws have not increased the number of Sunday worshipers, though they have the number of Sunday tipplers.

CHRISTMAS FEASTING.

In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries this whole season was given up to revels and jollity, in which eating and drinking had a prominent part. In London in the fifteenth century the first duty of the lord mayor and corporation was to dine, and then go, as soberly as might be, to the Church of St. Thomas Acon, and sit through the whole service. On other festival days and Sundays they had a habit of skipping out after the prayers were under way, but on Christmas they were bound to set an example of perseverance. Service over, their worships rode on horseback, by torchlight, through the market of Chepe and back to the church, where, being in a liberal frame of mind on account of the day and the good dinner, they made a money offering to the church. Each man contributed the magnificent sum of one penny to its treasury. This duty done, they returned to their own houses, and made more or less a night of it, after the immemorial manner of good city fathers, in private, the custom not having yet arisen of manifesting happiness by "painting the town red." We read a good deal about the excess of the Christmas dinners. Sir John Reresby in his memoirs makes a penitential note of a dinner at Thyrberg, in 1681: "The Earl of Huntington, my Lord Ellend, and some others dined with me, when we ended the year in more than an ordinary debauch, which God forgive me, it being neither my custom nor inclination much to do so." The next year there was at table a "Mr. Bolton, an ingenious clergyman, but too much a good fellow." The good fellows liked Thyrberg; during the holidays as many as fourscore gentlemen and yeomen, with their wives, dined daily at the hall.

Christmas was always a democratic festival; all classes mingled in the games and merriment, and hospitality was universal. An English gentleman in the country, on Christmas day in the morning, had all his tenants and neighbors enter the hall by daybreak. The strong beer was broached, and the blackjacks went plentifully round, with toast, sugar, nutmeg, and good Cheshire cheese. The great sausage (the Hackin) must be boiled at daybreak, and if it failed to be ready, two young men must take the maiden (i. e., the cook) by the arm and run her around the market-place till she was ashamed of her laziness. The maids had, however, some privileges of retort. In some places in Oxfordshire it was the custom for the maidservant to ask the man for some ivy to dress the house, and if the man refused or neglected to fetch the ivy, the maid stole a pair of his breeches and nailed them up to the gate in the garden or highway. During the festival days the tables were perpetually spread; the sirloin of beef, the minced pie, the plum porridge, turkeys, geese, and plum puddings, were all brought upon the board at once, and everyone ate heartily and was welcome, so that the proverb originated of, "'Tis merry in hall when beards wag all." The gentlemen went to early service in the church, and returned to breakfast on brawn and mustard and malmsey. Brawn was a dish of great antiquity. It was made from the flesh of large boars which lived in a half-wild state, and when put to fatten were strapped and belted tight around the carcass, in order to make the flesh become dense and brawny. It came to market in rolls two feet long by ten inches in diameter, packed in wicker baskets. At dinner the first course served was the boar's head on a silver platter, adorned with bays and rosemary, carried into the hall with much state, preceded by the master of revels, and followed by choristers and minstrels singing and playing compositions in its honor. A stanza of a common carol sung was this:—

Then sett downe the swineyard, The foe to the vineyard, Let Bacchus crowne his fall; Lett this boar's head and mustard Stand for pigg, goose, and custard, And so you are welcome all.

Another dish common in Shakespeare's day, which added at least to the show of the feast, was the "stately pye," that is, a peacock or pheasant pie. In the days of chivalry the knights took their vows at a solemn feast, on presentation of a roasted peacock in a golden dish. This custom was kept up at Christmas by the bringing in, on the most magnificent dish the house could afford, of a peacock in a pie, preserving as much as possible the form of the bird, with the head elevated above the crust, the beak richly gilt, and the beautiful tail spread out to its full extent. It was from this superb dish that the oath came, "By cock and pye, sir." At the supper two servants attended bearing fair torches of wax next before the musicians and the trumpeters. —Christian at Work.

THE "SERVANT GIRL PROBLEM."

By Elsie M. Tade

BY ELSIE M. TADE.

LET me make my contribution in the form of an incident.

"Mrs. Archer, how do you manage so well with your help?" said Mrs. Maxwell, as she took the offered seat on the veranda. "I have had an uncomfortable time this morning," she continued, as she saw Mrs. Archer's look of inquiry. "Jane is so saucy and disagreeable that I shall have to let her go soon, and she is the third girl I have had within the last six months. This morning the steak was underdone and the oatmeal burned, and when I spoke to her about it, she snapped out something saucy and slammed the door as she went out. Harry certainly ought to start off with a good breakfast these warm, trying days, and, although he didn't say anything, I knew he didn't enjoy the bill of fare," and tears stood in Mrs. Maxwell's eyes as she spoke.

"My dear," said Mrs. Archer, "there must be some way out of this terrible difficulty. I do not believe it is so bad that it cannot be remedied;" and her low laugh was very comforting. "Will you let me be your mother confessor and ask you a few questions?"

"As many as you please."

"Well, then, where does Jane sleep?"

"Sleep?" Mrs. Maxwell's eyes expressed astonishment. "Why, in the little attic room with the dormer window!"

"When do you have your dinner?" continued Mrs. Archer.

"At five o'clock, when Harry returns from the office."

"Does Jane ever have any company?"

"No, I told her I didn't allow her followers, much less to receive company in my kitchen, and her family lives some distance in the country."

"Now," interrupted Mrs. Archer, "you've given me material enough for any number of sermons, but I don't think I can help you more than by giving you my own way of working, and I have learned much of it by sorry experience.

"In the first place, I try to give my servant a good room, one that I should not hesitate to sleep in myself if necessary. It is on the second floor, at the head of the kitchen stairs. Just before Mary came, it received a thorough renovating with the rest of the house. A few simple pictures, a rug, an ornament or two besides the ordinary furnishings, made the room wonderfully attractive, and when Mary fully realized that it had been prepared for her, and that even the vase of flowers had a welcome, tears came into her eyes and her eloquent thanks followed me all the way downstairs.

"During these summer days we have our dinner in the middle of the day, for that gives Mary a little time in the afternoon and does not necessitate a hot fire in the kitchen range for getting tea. We find we all enjoy it just as much, for my husband gets a regular dinner at the restaurant, as does yours. Of course for the winter we alter our plan. It seems best, as the children are at school.

"Mary has one evening in the week as her own, on which she may either receive a friend or go out to spend the evening. I find that usually a word from me will stop any acquaintance that is undesirable. Sunday evening she usually gets out to church, for I consider that a privilege no servant ought to be denied. We all try to respect her rights; even Rob and Nellie think twice before they step on her newly-mopped floor, but she'd excuse most anything in 'thim blissid children,' I think.

"When the hard work of the week comes, I try to make the extras as light as I can, and I think she sees and appreciates it. Now, to sum up my sermon," laughed Mrs. Archer, "I try to bear in mind that my servant is made on the same immortal plan as myself. Of course I cannot make a confidant of her, or invite her to meet my friends or discuss Dante in my parlor. Her education has not been such that she would enjoy it. But I try to make her feel that I am her friend, and that I am alive to her best interests; that when she is doing my housework she is doing me service in the best sense of the word. If I am interested in her welfare it will naturally follow that she will be interested in mine.

"Of course things do not always go smoothly, but it makes such a difference if a little patience and a gentle word of praise are used to lighten a hard day's work. I want my servant to feel that I trust her; that is an education. In short, as the great mainspring of it all, I try to observe the Golden Rule." -The Voice.

THE LARGEST VESSEL EVER BUILT SAVE THE GREAT EASTERN.

By London Times

THE largest vessel save the Great Eastern that has ever been built will be launched on the Clyde from the yards of the Fairfield Company. She is one of two new liners that have been ordered for the service of the Cunard Company, and she is to be called the Campania. It is expected that she will be completed in time to make her first trip to New York in April next, immediately prior to the opening of the Chicago exhibition. The Great Eastern was 692 feet long by 83 feet broad.

The Campania will be but ninety-two feet shorter and eight feet narrower, and will, when fully loaded with cargo, passengers, and stores, have a displacement which is estimated at over 19,000 tons. This is a displacement by at least 3,000 tons greater than that of any ship, merchant vessel, or man of war now in existence. It is anticipated that upon her trials, when loaded to a displacement of something over 14,000 tons, she will attain a speed of twenty-six and a half land miles per hour; and she will, not improbably, exceed even this.

Upon her voyage she is to make a continuous speed from port to port of twenty-one knots, or twenty-four and one-tenth land miles; and this speed is tolerably certain to be improved upon after she has made a few trips. It is understood that her weight upon the day of the launch will be 9,000 tons. Her engines are ready for her, but no part of them will be put on board until she is in the water. The machinery consists of twin phosphor bronze screws, driven by two pairs of triple expansion engines, each capable of indicating up to 15,000 horse power.

Each engine has two cranks and five cylinders. There will be twelve double-ended boilers, each with eight furnaces, and there will be six stokeholes. The funnels, two in number, will be the largest ever made. The launching of so huge a vessel will present considerable difficulties, as the river at Govan is narrow. The Campania will be sent into the water obliquely, with her stern down stream, will then be towed up the river to a basin, in which, with care, she can be turned round, and will finally be taken to a specially prepared jetty close to the launching ways, and will there be completed for sea. Excepting only her rudder, she is entirely of British construction. The rudder, formed of a single steel plate, is so wide that no British firm possessed the necessary machinery for rolling it, and the work had in consequence to be intrusted to Krupp, of Essen.—London Times.

SHOT HIS COMPANION.

A FEW months ago a boy of ten was mortally wounded, one evening, in a suburb of one of our great cities. He was carried home, and a few minutes later a small lad, aged twelve, pushed his way through the crowd, loudly announcing himself to be "Joe K., the murderer."

He wore a wide-brimmed sombrero, and a belt, in which was a pistol, still hot from its discharge.

"I 'held him up,'" he said, "and told him to give me his money. I knew he had twenty-five cents in his pocket. He wouldn't do it, so I had to fire."

The child died. The other child, for he was no more, was sent to a reformatory. His brain was so filled with stories of border life that it was impossible to convince him that he had done wrong. In his own eyes he was only a hero.

His parents were honest, hard-working people, who stated that they had no time to look after the boy, and that, when they thought he was at school, he was either reading the lives of Western train robbers, in flash papers, or was trying to imitate them.

About the same time a young man in a Western State, who had "held up" several trains alone, robbing the express agents of large sums, was tried and sentenced to a long imprisonment. A private diary was published, which he had kept while committing his crimes. In it he congratulates himself on his bravery, kindness, and high purposes in life, with evident sincerity.

"The papers," he says, "call me a villain. No one who knows me would give me that name. Nine men out of ten would have shot to kill; every time I fired only to frighten and to protect my life. Many a man in my place would have taken the women’s jewelry; I only took money. My friends know how brave and good a fellow I am."

Now were this young man and boy wholly to blame if they had learned to regard theft as a heroic exploit, and murder as an innocent exhibition of courage?

The American boy of the last generation was taught to regard the Indian fighter as the truest type of a hero; many American boys of to-day gloat over a literature in which the train robber and "bad man" of the West are held up as the ideal of manhood.

Is the boy altogether in fault if he imitates the only example which is set before him?

This is a question for parents to answer.—The Household.

A FOREST SCENE.

Oh! proudly then the forest kings Their banners lift o'er vale and mount; And cool and fresh the wild grass springs, By lonely path, by sylvan fount; There, o'er the fair leaf-laden rill The laurel sheds her clustering bloom, And throned upon the rock-wreathed hill The rowan wears his scarlet plumes. —Selected.

TO PACK AWAY SILKS AND WOOLENS.

WHENEVER you have occasion to pack away silk or woolen goods which you are afraid may turn yellow, break up a few cakes of white beeswax and fold the pieces loosely in old handkerchiefs that are worn thin. Place these among the goods. If possible, pin the silks or woolens in some old white linen sheets or garments. If it be inconvenient to use linen, take cotton sheets. Of course it is important that the clothing shall be perfectly clean when put away.—Ladies' Home Journal.

A GRANDMOTHER'S RECIPE.

TAKE one cupful of unselfishness, one cup of love for mother, another cup of love for your little brothers and sisters, a whole pound of wishes to make other people happy, and a very small teaspoonful of wishing to be happy yourself. Beat it all up together, and see if it does not make the nicest kind of an afternoon for anybody. Aunt Jemima suggests that it should be served while fresh.—Selected.

Preaching Without Conversions

“Mr. Glibly has entered the ministry, I believe.”

“Yes; he is preaching now.”

“Does he make any conversions?”

“No; but you ought to hear him laying down doctrine.”—New York Press.

Removing Paint Odor

To purify the air of a newly-painted room put several tubs of water in it and it will absorb much of the odor.

Pine Shavings for Coughs and Lung Troubles

FINE shavings from soft pine wood make a pleasant pillow. They are said to alleviate coughs and lung troubles.

SOME REMARKS ON TOBACCO.

UNDER this title Dr. B. H. Brodnax, of Brodnax, La., contributes an interesting article to the Virginia Medical Monthly, from which we make the following extracts:—

Careful inquiry for over a year in my cliental gives me the following results: Ninety-eight out of 123 persons, all white, male and female, use tobacco in some way—aged 18 to 78. Of these I find 90 affected with impairment of the senses of taste, smell, and hearing; 82 have periodic headaches traceable to the habit, for when abandoned for a time, or using less quantity, this symptom disappears in greater or less degree; 5 have paralysis agitans more or less severe; and 50 per cent. have irregular heart action; 89 are more or less dyspeptic—22 of them badly so; 8 cannot always retain all the food eaten unless a stomachic is taken; 52, after smoking during the day, have, later on, a slight defect in walking, a vertigo, usually shown by an inclination to swerve to one side from a straight line—the irregularity always on the same side. More than half complain of forgetfulness, a slight decline in the former powers of memory—some even so far as to forget familiar names of persons whom they see every day.

I said, “All this is traceable to the use of tobacco;” because, when abandoned for a time, these defects seem to remedy themselves without any medication, or only very slight. Among the women (a few—four—of whom smoke), most of them use snuff sticks (toothbrush), dyspepsia, querulousness, constipation, and consequent uterine troubles, are most common complaints, coupled with some of the others mentioned. Some have “palpitation of the heart,” which ceases with abstinence and a placebo.

In about 80 per cent. the eyes are affected with a dryness of the upper lid, which seems to stick to the ball of the eye. There are no granulations, only a dryness of the lids in the morning on waking. This seems to be a fault in the secretion of the mucous membrane. Usually one eye, seldom both, is affected. I call it “smoker’s sore eyes.”—Doctor’s Weekly.

HOW THE WOMEN DID IT.

The Cincinnati Times-Star gives the following instance of a saloon closed by knitting: “Never had but one saloon in our town, and the ladies knit that one out,” said a gentleman who lives in Moor’s Hill, Indiana.

“What!” exclaimed the astonished delegate; “knit it out?” ‘Yes; when the saloon was started, the women formed in relays and went and took their knitting to the saloon. Of course that knocked business higher than a kite. It was not long before that saloon had to be closed, and since that time no man has ever had the nerve to start another.”—Pacific Ensign.

MORTALITY FROM ALCOHOL.

By Benjamin Ward Richardson

As regards longevity, it has been my duty to make special inquiry into the part which intemperance plays in the causation of premature mortality, and the lowest estimate which I could frame was that at least forty thousand persons died every year in the United Kingdom from personal intemperance, and probably double that number from poverty, accident, violence, or disease consequent on the intemperance of persons other than the slain. The estimate has been laid before several learned societies, and, though it has been freely discussed, has never been seriously questioned, while it has been pronounced “moderate” and “under the truth” by well-known authorities on public health. It is not improbable that there are half a million of habitual drunkards in the United Kingdom.—Dr. B. F. Richardson.

INFECTIONS FROM KISSING ANIMALS.

The disgusting and dangerous fondling and kissing of beasts cannot be effectually opposed, perhaps, on the whole; but some persons may be benefited by the repetition of warnings against the numerous infections which that practice is liable to incur, such as hydatids from dogs, diphtheria from cats and pigeons, and from cats the obstinate and loathsome diseases of ringworm and favus. Dr. Leviseur suggests this warning in the Medical Record from having had occasion repeatedly to trace individual cases, as well as small epidemics, of both ringworm and favus to their source in the endearment of cats. He gives two recent cases, with particulars of both cat and child. Favus, he states, is a disease peculiar to mice, from which the cat gets it.—American Analyst.

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