Earlier text: NOTES ON THE INTERNATIONAL LESSONImmortality of the Soul Subversive of Truth
By A. T. J.
The Doctrine of the Immortality of the Soul Subversive of the Truth.—No. 2.
LAST week we showed conclusively that belief in the doctrine of the natural immortality of the soul, is subversive of the doctrine of the resurrection of the dead. There is another doctrine of the Bible which holds just as important a place in the divine scheme as does that of the resurrection, that is, the Second Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ; and this likewise is subverted by a belief in the doctrine of the natural immortality of the soul. The subversion of this truth is, in a measure, involved in that of the resurrection; because without the second coming of Christ there would be no resurrection, and anything that destroys belief in the resurrection of the dead, by that means destroys faith and hope in the second coming of the Lord. That the event of the resurrection of the dead depends wholly upon the second coming of Christ, is easily shown by the Scripture, which, of course, in these things is the only authority. We have before shown that the righteous are rewarded only at the resurrection; and to plainly show the connection, we will repeat a verse which we before quoted: "When thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind. And thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee; for thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just." Luke 14:13, 14. And of his own coming Jesus says: "Behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to give every man according to his work shall be." Rev. 22:12. The coming of the Lord, and the resurrection of the righteous dead, are directly connected by Paul thus: "The Lord himself shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air; and so shall we ever be with the Lord." 1 Thess. 4:16, 17. And again: "We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump; for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" 1 Cor. 15:51-55. "Then shall be brought to pass the saying." When? "At the last trump," certainly; "for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised." When is it that the trump shall sound? "This we say unto you by the word of the Lord, . . . The Lord himself shall descend from Heaven . . . with the trump of God; and the dead in Christ shall rise." "Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory." Then it is, and not till then, that men shout, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" But through belief in the doctrine of the natural immortality of the soul, it is now sought to be made to appear that this "saying" is "brought to pass" when men die! There can be no more direct perversion of the word of God than to represent this saying as being brought to pass when men die. But what does the doctrine of the immortality of the soul care about the perversion of the word of God? The first time that that doctrine was ever uttered, it was in direct contradiction of the express word of the Lord himself. The Lord said, in the event of man's disobedience, "Thou shalt surely die" (Gen. 2:17); and the devil said, "Ye shall not surely die." Gen. 3:4; Rev. 20:2. And there is no shadow of reason to expect that the doctrine will, in reality, ever assume any other position. It is not alone a perversion of Scripture to so apply the "saying" in question: it is alike a perversion of the plainest principles of reason and experience. For instance, here are death and a saint of God struggling for the mastery. Presently death obtains the mastery. The saint lies lifeless; death has the victory. When he is dead, is that a time to claim victory over death? When he is being lowered into the grave, is that a time to shout the victory over the grave? Nay, verily. But it is not to be always so. There is One who exclaims, "I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive forevermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell [the grave] and of death." Rev. 1:18. And when that glorious one "shall descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God," and with power that bursts the bars of the cruel grave and destroys the strength of death; then the saint arises triumphant over death, and "THEN shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory." Then the saint can shout exultingly, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" And, "Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." And thrice thanks, yea, "blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." 1 Peter 1:3. However, it is not alone through the subversion of the doctrine of the resurrection, that the doctrine of the immortality of the soul strikes against the coming of the Lord. The issue is directly joined. For by those who believe in the natural immortality of the soul, it is held that those who die in the Lord go straight to Heaven; that they go direct to the place where the Lord is; and so they sing,—
> "Then persevere till death
> Shall bring thee to thy God;
> He'll take thee, at thy parting breath,
> To his divine abode."—Gospel Hymns, No. 112. And obituaries are actually written by them such as the following, which we read not long since in the Christian Cynosure: "Alvah Palmer went to Heaven from" a certain place in New York; and then the notice went on to tell when and of what he died, etc. And Dr. Talmage, in relating how a certain saintly woman was "emparadised," tells how the chariot of Elijah was outdone; for there it must have taken some little time to turn out the chariot and hitch up the horses; but here, in this instance, the transition was all made instantaneously, without waiting for either horses or chariot! And all this when a person died! These are only notable expressions of the common idea of those who believe in the doctrine of the natural immortality of the soul. Now, if these things be true,—if it be true that death brings people to God; that men and women go direct to Heaven from their homes in this world, and this so instantaneously that there is no time to get ready the chariot of God, as was done when Elijah went without dying at all,—we say if these things be true, then there is literally no place left for the coming of the Lord. It would be simply the height of ridiculous absurdity to talk about the Lord's coming to this world after people who are not here at all, but are, and have been, for years and hundreds of years, in Heaven—in the very place which he leaves to come here! This is why the doctrine of the coming of the Lord is so neglected, so despised, in fact. Believing this, there is no need to believe in the coming of the Lord; indeed, it is a palpable inconsistency to believe in it. Believing this, there is no need to look, or wait, for the coming of the Lord; all there is for such to do is to wait till death shall come and take them, and so death—"the last enemy," "the king of terrors"—is given the place and the office of Him who is altogether lovely and the chiefest among ten thousand, of Him "that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood." But this belief is not the "belief of the truth." There is no element of truth, in any form, in the idea of people going to God or to Heaven when they die. Christ himself said as plainly as tongue can speak, "Whither I go, ye cannot come." John 13:33. Then when his disciples were troubled because of these words he told them, in words equally plain, of the event upon which they must place their only hope of being with him where he is, and that event is, "I will come again, and receive you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be also." John 14:3. And that word "that" shows positively that that is the only way in which men may ever be with him where he is. Therefore the coming of the Lord is the Christian's hope. And the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, in supplanting, as assuredly it does, the doctrine of the coming of the Lord, supplants the Christian's hope. Then when the doctrine of the immortality of the soul sends men to Heaven before the end of the world, before the sounding of the last trump, before the time when the Lord himself shall descend from Heaven and raise the dead, before he appears in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory, and sends his angels to gather together his elect—we say when the doctrine of the immortality of the soul puts men into Heaven before the occurrence of these events, it does it in defiance of the word of Christ, which liveth and abideth forever. Therefore we say it stands proved, that the belief of the doctrine of the immortality of the soul is subversive of the doctrine of the second coming of Christ, and, in that, is subversive of the truth of God. Our Pioneer Paper.
By William Ings
WE little realize the amount of good that the SIGNS OF THE TIMES is accomplishing. Its influence is felt in all parts of the world, as we can safely say that it has visited every civilized nation under the sun. It deals out solid matter, that which appeals to reason, and gives to the reader instruction in the fundamental truths of the Bible. It takes time to accomplish its work; it does not convert instantaneously, but does its work slowly and surely. And persons who have received the truth through reading it are constantly being added to the number of those who are keeping the commandments of God and the faith of Jesus. Its reception at its first visit is not always encouraging, for the principles taught are not always in harmony with the education of the reader; yet with the force of argument and the abundance of spiritual food it contains, it wins its way to hearts. There are times when courage seems to fail after a persistent effort in sending out the SIGNS, and we often give up in discouragement because we do not see immediate fruit, when at the same time it is gradually molding the mind. A case for encouragement has just come to notice. While Brother Loughborough and myself were holding meetings in Southern California, a person was in attendance who had come some distance to hear an Adventist sermon for the first time. At the meeting he gave his experience of the conflict that he had had with the pioneer paper. About four years ago, some person sent him several numbers, with the request that they be read; but being schooled in the Methodist creed, he did not give the SIGNS a very hearty welcome, as the doctrine was antagonistic to that which he had been taught; and he expressed the opinion that the sender would do well to save his postage. Yet the journal continued to make its unwelcome visits, and finally his curiosity began to be aroused to learn more of the nature of our work. Little by little the contents were read. Truth made an impression on the mind; and after a determined struggle of three years and a half, the man yielded to the force of argument contained in the few numbers received, and is now happy in the truth, and is willing by constant and patient effort to further the circulation of our valuable paper. There are hundreds, and I think I can safely say thousands, that are to-day weighing the evidence gathered from these silent messengers; and sooner or later many of them will yield to the principles of the truth, as did the one mentioned. While some are slow to learn the truth, others will more readily receive it, as in the case of an intelligent German who had access to the SIGNS taken from one of our distributors in San Francisco. He became convinced on the Sabbath question, and kindred truths. From a notice of our meetings in the paper he learned of our place of worship; and he has been constant in attendance, and now he desires baptism, and wishes to unite with us in church fellowship. This case was not so long in maturing. The papers may be received, and laid away for others to find that are hungry for truth, as in the following case. A steward, a resident of the Isle of France, embarked on a ship that had received copies of the SIGNS on a previous voyage, and while looking through some papers he found a few numbers, which were read with interest. On reaching the port of San Francisco, he came to our meetings, and is now determined to live out the principles of truth which he has learned. These incidents should surely give courage to the editors as well as to the missionary workers to continue on in their labor of sending out this excellent journal, which is laden from week to week with such truths as will convince the judgment, and lead men to lay down their rebellion against the law of God. Brethren, let us take courage, and not slack our work of disseminating truth while probation lingers. Santa Ana and Norwalk.
By H. A. St. John
OUR meetings following the Santa Ana camp-meeting are in the past. They continued most of the time for two weeks. The change from a camp-meeting to a hall on the second floor was a great one in an unfavorable direction, at least so it proved to be at Santa Ana. The nights were dark and foggy, and the attendance was very small indeed. I did not feel it duty to continue longer. I sold a few books, and obtained one subscriber for the SIGNS. Three more persons signed the covenant. I spent four days with the Norwalk church. They seemed much encouraged by the labors of Elders Loughborough and Ings, only a short time before. The meetings were fairly attended, the interest and the attendance increasing till the last. The enemy is trying hard here, with good prospect of success, to ruin some souls. But I think there are some at Norwalk who will endure unto the end. Let us all submit ourselves to God, and remember that if we resist the devil he will flee from us; but without submission to God, all our efforts in resisting Satan will be futile. May the Lord help us to see and feel our utter helplessness in the work of overcoming, without a living connection with Christ. H. A. ST. JOHN.
Los Angeles, Cal. The Fear of the Lord Leads to Life
"The fear of the Lord tendeth to life." The Australian Mission.
By Editor
FROM a private letter written by Brother Henry Scott we are permitted to take the following interesting items relative to the work in Australia. We are sure the readers of the SIGNS will rejoice in the prosperity of the work there. “Everything is moving along nicely in this distant field. The Third Angel’s Message is finding its way into various parts of the colonies by means of reading matter sent by ship and mail; and good reports are received from the matter thus sent out. Four are keeping the Sabbath who were brought into the truth by reading, and by a letter sent by Brother Israel to a gentleman in a mining town about eighty miles from here. A short time since, I sent about seven dollars’ worth of bound books to two gentlemen living there, who express themselves much pleased with them. We have received some good words from the libraries that have been furnished with our books. We have also seen some good results from the distributor work, in the way of subscriptions and interested readers. Thirteen besides our own party are now keeping the Sabbath, and a large number of very intelligent persons are deeply interested. “The tent-meetings opened with a good audience, and the interest is steadily increasing. Our hearts are made to rejoice at the earnestness manifested by some, and are filled with gratitude that the Lord is working for his truth here. I never saw a more intelligent audience assembled in tent-meetings. As a rule, the people bring their Bibles, and follow the speaker, or take notes for the purpose of reading up at home. “To-night [November 4] the Second Angel’s Message has been presented; and to-morrow evening the subject is to be the Third Angel’s Message. The sermon this evening stirred the people, and they lingered long after the meeting closed to talk about the truth. Before this reaches you, they will have had an opportunity to accept or reject. I feel confident that there will be a little company in North Fitzroy to hold up the light of truth. Remember the work here in your prayers.” The Demand for Easy Reading.
By J. R. Miller, D. D.
THERE are many people, in these days, who like all the intellectual work they undertake to be very easy,—so easy as to require no serious effort, or next to none. This statement applies particularly to the reading which these good, but very gentle, people are willing to do. The demand upon their thinking faculties must not be severe. Everything must be made very plain. The deepest truths and the most abstruse teachings must be presented in such a vivid way as not only to be easily understood, but also to charm the mind by their striking beauty. All reading must be easy to get itself read by any but a very small class. There are still a few heroic souls who despise anything that is not hard, and who pride themselves on their exploits in wrestling with the deepest problems of science and metaphysics. But the great masses of those who read,—and does not everybody read in these days?—must have only easy reading. How many people, in this great reading age, really study history? How many regularly read solid and abstruse matter of any kind? Our modern culture knows all about the auroral literature that flashes up to-day and dies out again to-morrow, but knows almost nothing of the really great books of the ages. Many people who have not the courage to confess ignorance of the last novel, regard it as no shame to be utterly ignorant of the grand old classics. It is pretty safe to say that not one in a hundred now reads Milton's "Paradise Lost," and that not one in a thousand has ever read even a translation of Homer's "Iliad," or knows its contents. All literature, to win attention and to find readers, must be served up in attractive form, and made pathetic, or romantic, or thrilling, or sentimental. As an age, we are running to novel-reading, and the lightest kind of novel-reading at that. Even Walter Scott is too hard to read, and too dull and heavy for the great bulk of our reading public; and Hawthorne is too philosophical and too solemn. A look into the publishers' accounts of sales shows that the great books of the market to-day are not the really great books of the masters. Even religious teaching must be wrought into charming story form to get our boys and girls and young people to like it enough to read it. Our Sunday-school books are chiefly stories, and stories, oft-times,—had we not as well confess it?—whose only merit is that they are easy reading. Is it not true, that, in feeding our children from the Sunday-school-library table on these diluted fictions, we are helping to vitiate their intellectual taste, to weaken their ability for earnest thinking, and to unfit them for strong mental work in their maturity? The effect of this perpetual Sunday-school-book reading is seen in the growing distaste of the young for solid religious instruction of any kind. Teaching must be pictorial, or illustrative, or by story-telling. The children must have "sermonettes" of their own, duly diluted and etherealized, and not more than five or seven minutes long, sandwiched somewhere in the old people's service. It would never do to ask the dear things to listen to the solid preaching that their fathers and mothers get; such intellectual effort might work permanent injury to their minds. But it is not the children's religious teaching only that has to be made easy. How many good Christians now read the great religious books? It is altogether possible that, if we were perfectly honest about it, it would appear that many of us do not even read the Bible; or that, if we do, we read it only when we are half asleep, and merely to satisfy a mild demand of conscience. Some of us cheat ourselves into the belief that we are diligent Bible-readers because we read a great deal about the Bible, in the way of comments upon, and explanations of, certain passages, while really we scarcely ever read and study the book for ourselves. We go to church, and listen to the preacher (if his sermon is not too deep and abstruse, and too hard to follow) to hear what he thinks about some Scripture text or doctrine; but we do not care to search the sacred word for ourselves. Why should we, indeed? Is it not the minister's business to "feed" our souls? Should he not, therefore, do the hard thinking and the deep searching after the truth, and bring us the results in well-digested, logically arranged, clearly expressed, finely illustrated, eloquently delivered half-hour sermons? As for the doctrines of the Bible, there surely can be no necessity for people to tire themselves in freshly going over the ground. Have not wise and good men gone over it with conscientious diligence and care, and do not the creeds and confessions of the church contain all the important and essential truths of the Bible? Faith is easier than hard study, and the easier way is the best. Whether the easy ways of doing everything so much in vogue at present will make the grand men and noble women that grow up in the older-fashioned methods of hard intellectual work, remains to be seen. Some one has said,—Heinrich Heine, was it not?—that wherever a great thought is born, there has been a Gethsemane. It has heretofore been supposed that that which costs little is worth but little. If this be true, the easy reading that is now so much in demand will not produce vigorous intellects; nor will the easy religious education required by modern tastes make fine characters. Softly, oh softly! the years have swept by thee,
Touching thee lightly with tenderest care.
Sorrow and death they have often brought nigh thee;
Yet they have left thee but beauty to wear;
Growing old gracefully,
Gracefully fair. Far from the storms that are lashing the ocean,
Nearer each day to the pleasant Home-light;
Far from the waves that are big with commotion,
Under full sail, and the harbor in sight;
Growing old cheerfully,
Cheerful and bright. Never a feeling of envy or sorrow,
When the bright faces of children are seen;
Never a year from the young wouldst thou borrow—
Thou dost remember what lieth between;
Growing old willingly,
Thankful, serene. Rich in experience that angels might covet,
Rich in a faith that has grown with thy years,
Rich in a love that grew from and above it,
Soothing thy sorrows and hushing thy fears;
Growing old wealthily,
Loving and dear. Hearts at the sound of thy coming are lightened,
Ready and willing thy hand to relieve;
Many a face at thy kind word has brightened—
"It is more blessed to give than receive."
Growing old happily,
Ceasing to grieve. Eyes that grow dim to the earth and its glory
Have a sweet recompense youth cannot know;
Ears that grow dull to the world and its story
Drink in the songs that from Paradise flow;
Growing old graciously,
Purer than snow. —Sel. Reading and Rest for Mothers.
By Nairjean Audenried
So MANY mothers complain that they can't find time for reading. Now so far as my observation goes, it confirms me in the belief that, as a general thing, a woman will find time to do whatever she considers a necessity to be done. The mother of seventeen children would hardly feel that lack of time was a sufficient excuse for appearing at the breakfast table with unwashed face and disheveled locks, even though a thousand things might seem to demand immediate attention. Few American women are so situated that they could not, if they would, find time to read at least a little every day; and it may be said that the woman who does not, either has no taste for reading or is a very poor manager. The difficulty in most cases is not so much lack of time as lack of proper arrangement of time; the want of definite plan and of persistent effort to secure a desired result is the cause that most frequently prevents regular habits of reading. I have in my mind's eye the mother of a large family, who acquired nearly all her education after her marriage, and by the habit of daily reading became not only remarkable for her intelligence and culture in the circle in which she moved, but was able to be the intellectual companion of her children, who had the advantages of schools and colleges, which were denied her. Some mothers so sacrifice themselves to the mere physical well-being of their children when they are young, that by the time they are grown there is very little mental sympathy between them, especially if the children have high educational advantages, and keep up with the intellectual progress of the age. I know one mother who felt the necessity of reading the newspaper herself, that she might keep her son, growing into manhood, from objectionable places of evening resort where he could hear politics and affairs of his country discussed. When he came to his meals, instead of fretting him with reproaches for his absence from the family circle, she talked to him concerning things of current interest in the country and the world, and whatever she thought was most likely to enlist his sympathy and stimulate his highest aspirations. This mother had delicate health and many family cares; but she felt that the time she took for reading was time well spent if it enabled her to be a wise counselor and helper to her son.—Nairjean Audenried, in Christian at Work. "A MAN's pride shall bring him low." As I passed a beautiful house on Ashland avenue, the other day, I heard a little two-year-old, who was taking a walk with her father, turn to him and ask, "Is that mine, papa?" She meant the house, which some way impressed her, as it did me, by its remarkable beauty, as being a desirable possession. Her father answered her, "Yes, little daughter; it is yours to look at, but not to live in." It struck me as being a beautiful answer. The child seemed to be perfectly satisfied and happy with it, as she would not have been had she been answered in a simple negative. Why not make the little ones all rich in the same way? Give them to understand that the most wonderful things in the universe are theirs, as the sun and stars and clouds, the wind and rain, and teach them how wonderful they are by calling attention to them and helping them to understand. Teach them that all their eyes can see or their ears hear, belongs by right to them. Make them rich in things that may always be theirs. Let them know that they are heirs to the common heritage that is ever a blessing, placing the possessor beyond the reach of poverty.—Sel. EVERY fool can find faults that a great many wise men cannot remedy. Children’s Music and Noise
Music is the sound which one's children make as they romp through the house. Noise is the sound which other people's children make under the same circumstances.—Boston Post. Health and Temperance.
By H. T. Sell
Bits of Experience in the Wine and Beer Drinking Countries of Europe.
THERE seems to be a general impression that the lighter beverages, beer and wine, will drive out the more intoxicating. Discriminating license laws are made so as to favor them. For argument and example to support this impression we are bidden to look to the wine and beer districts of France and Germany. Travelers coming home tell us many stories of delightful evenings spent in beer gardens, and of pleasant afternoons at the café. They say that they saw no intoxicated person. Further, they tell us that the water is so bad that it is impossible to drink it with safety to one's health; that wine is very cheap, and always placed upon the hotel table free. All this has an influence upon the minds of men, and makes one think that nothing would be so beneficial to real temperance as the establishment of the beer garden and café in every town and city. Are these things so? For one, I saw a very different state of things. The ordinary traveler goes with a friend, or friends, and sees the best side of things. I went alone, without even a guide or courier, depending upon my guide-book for information to get about the highways and byways and cities. My eyes looked upon a very different state of things in regard to these drinking customs. Never was there a greater fallacy promulgated than that it is necessary to drink wine in Europe on account of the water being so bad. I drank the water everywhere freely, even in Venice, where all the drinking water is brought from the mainland in boats, and experienced no difficulty or unpleasant effects. There is no better water, I believe, than that found in Europe. While travelers unaccustomed to wine at home, drinking it in Europe, were continually on the sick-list, I enjoyed splendid health, and had no difficulty in taking the longest tramps in every city and town that I visited. As to wine at the hotel table, at many table d'hôte dinners, wine is furnished free, but it is generally as poor as it is cheap. For even poor wine you will pay from fifty cents a pint up. It seems strange to hear men speak of there being no drunkenness in Germany. I have sometimes asked myself where were their eyes, or what was their definition of drunkenness. I shall certainly never forget a certain Sunday spent in Cologne, where I saw more drunken men on the street than I had ever seen in any one day in any American city. As it was a special feast day, this might have been the cause of more drinking. But the beer garden! Its home is in Munich; there it flourishes in all its glory. There are beer gardens, and beer gardens. But I wish to speak not of the lower, but of the higher class. The higher class in Munich are all open to the street, protected from it, however, by a high iron railing. If you wish to enter, you go through an iron gate, take your seat at a small table, and order a glass of beer; that is the entrance fee. The place is beautifully lighted with colored lights, and a band plays there as only a German band can play. The lights and music make the place seem like fairyland. I started one evening from the "Hotel of the Four Seasons," not to go in, but to look on from the outside at three or four of these beer gardens. (Everything can be seen from the street.) As I looked on at eight or nine o'clock, I said, "How delightful it is in there! Men seem to be enjoying themselves so much. There are women and children, too. What a happy time they are having over their beer! I think I must be wrong. I am too old-fashioned in my ideas." Then the thought occurred, "Watch these gardens until they close up; come around every hour and see how these people act." So I did. I took my rounds every hour. At ten o'clock still everything was pleasant. At eleven o'clock the crowd had thinned a little, and I noticed that here and there a head was on the table, the talk was less lively. At twelve o'clock but half remained. At about one o'clock the musicians were putting up their instruments and men were coming out of the entrance walking unsteadily and talking thick or laughing loudly. As I looked through the iron railing, I could see men, women, and children stretched out upon the greensward, and some with heads upon the table. If I had asked a waiter, he would doubtless have told me that they were asleep, but the heavy breathing told that it was something more than sweet natural sleep; it seemed like the sleep of drunkenness. They were overcome by a drunken sleep. I was glad that I had watched for the dark side of the picture. They tell us that it is a beautiful picture to see a man in a beer garden with his family. But who wants his child brought up in a beer garden? Will we be any better off when our statesmen and theologians discuss the great topics of our time, and all time, with brains that are muddled with beer? England, a few years ago, thought to drive out the stronger liquors by encouraging beer-shops, but found that it only increased the sale of the stronger liquors. How is it in that great wine-producing country, France? Paris—for France is Paris and Paris is France—Paris, years ago, may have been partial to wine, but she is not so to day. Walk through the streets of Paris any Sunday afternoon (for that is the festal day), and watch the little groups collected around the tables that obstruct the sidewalks in front of what used to be the wine-shops. What are they calling for? Wine? No; but absinthe. Look up at the signs, and in large letters you will see upon all these shops the word "Absinthe." This is the drink of Paris to-day. The light wines have not driven out the stronger liquors, but have brought in the strongest and most destructive liquor known to man.—H. T. Sell, in Christian Union. THE best supper for a tired workingman is oatmeal porridge with a little warm milk. A carpenter who worked for me frequently, talked in a very unhappy way about his stomach. He could digest nothing, his food all turned sour, wind came up in torrents, "there was a big stone right here in the pit of my stomach," and so on. It was a dose to hear him. I inquired about his table habits, and learned that at supper he filled his stomach, when, like other parts of his body, it was tired, with fried pork, hot biscuit and butter, and preserves. I said to him, "I will cure you in a month if you will follow my prescription faithfully." John replied, "I will swallow ten cats every day, if it will cure me." I proposed economy in cats, and that instead he should eat for supper oatmeal in hot milk. Within a month the other men said John was perfectly crazy about oatmeal and hot milk,—that he thought these for supper would take a man straight to Heaven. It will certainly cure many dyspeptics among workingmen.—Dio Lewis's Nuggets. Those Clever Greeks.
By Arlo Bates
If you turn a book upside down and look at the letters, every s will seem much smaller at the bottom than at the top, although when the book is properly held, both halves appear the same size to the eye. The upper part of the type that prints the letter s is made smaller than the lower half to correct the fault of the eye, which always slightly exaggerates the former. When the letter is turned over, this same trick of the sight makes the difference seem greater than it really is; and of course, were it of the same width all the way, it would still look uneven. In great matters, the false report of the eye is greater. If a tapering monument, like that on Bunker Hill or like the obelisk in Central Park, were made with perfectly straight sides, it would look to us—for, you see, we really cannot trust our own eyes—as if it were hollowed in a little; or, as we should say in more scientific language, its sides would appear concave. Those clever Greeks, who did so many marvelous things in art, thought all this out, and made their architecture upon principles so subtle and so comprehensive that we have never been able to improve on them since. They found that their beautiful Doric columns, if made with straight sides, had the concave effect of which I have spoken; and so, with the most delicate art in the world, they made the pillar swell a little at the middle, and then it appeared exactly right. This swelling of the column at its middle was called entasis. Of course it had to be calculated with the greatest nicety, and was actually so very slight that it can only be detected by delicate measurements; but it added greatly to the beauty of the columns and to their effectiveness. Then the lines which were to look horizontal had to receive attention. If you look at a long, perfectly level line, as the edge of a roof, for instance, it has the appearance of sagging toward the middle. The Greek architect corrected this fault by making his lines rise a little. The front of the Parthenon, at Athens, is one hundred and one feet three and a half inches long, and, in this, the rise from the horizontal is about two and one-eighth inches. In other words, there is a curvature upward that makes it a little more than two inches higher in the center than at the ends, and the effect of this swelling upward is to make the lines appear perfectly level. Indeed, this same Parthenon—the most beautiful building in the world—when delicately and carefully measured, was found to be everywhere made a little incorrect, so that it may appear right, which is certainly what may be called an architectural paradox. The graceful columns, which seem to stand so straight, are made to lean inward a little, since, if they were perfectly true and plumb, they would have the effect of leaning outward. The pillars at the corners slant inward more than the others, and everywhere the corners are made to look square by being, in truth, a little broader angled, and lines are curved in order that they shall appear straight to the eye.—Arlo Bates, in St. Nicholas for October. LEARN to entwine with your prayers the small cares, the trifling sorrows, the little wants, of daily life. Whatever affects you,—be it a changed look, an altered tone, an unkind word, a wrong, a wound, a demand you cannot meet, a change others cannot notice, a sorrow you cannot disclose,—make it a subject of prayer, and send it up to God. Disclosures you cannot make to man you can make to the Lord. Man may be too little for your great matters; God is not too great for your small ones. Only give yourself to prayer, whatever be the occasion that calls for it.—Sel. WHAT grounds have we for believing that we are ready to make the greatest sacrifices, when we daily fail in offering the least? A Simple Remedy for Sleeplessness
A very simple remedy for sleeplessness, prescribed by a Parisian physician, wrought a cure in the case of a gentleman who had been afflicted for years with insomnia. The remedy was complete cessation of mental exertion in the evening, and the formation of a habit of retiring at the same time each evening. No letter writing, no reading of exciting books, was allowed, and the mind was placed in as passive a state as possible.