"Does Psalm 105:8 apply to the law of ten commandments, or does it apply to the covenant concerning the land of Canaan, verse 11?"
"The word which he commanded to a thousand generations" applies to the ten commandments, and to nothing else. If you will carefully read the article by Eld. Andrews (J. N. A.) in the SIGNS of February 6, you will find there the proof given showing that the primary idea of a covenant is that of a contract. But contracts are composed of promises which, of course, are based upon conditions. A contract of promises and conditions is properly a covenant. But in this case, as in a multitude of others in the Scriptures, the term which is applied to the whole is sometimes applied to its several parts. Thus we sometimes find the word covenant used when reference is made only to a promise, and sometimes, only to a condition, or law.
The covenant of Ps. 105:8-11 embraces both. It is not difficult to perceive that the "word commanded" is not, and cannot be, the promise made. But as God's gracious purposes to man are connected with conditions, it is easy to understand that the promise made is based upon the word commanded. These are taken together, and together they constitute the covenant.
Some have darkened counsel by words without knowledge, Job 38:2, and really endeavored to destroy this distinction of the different parts of a covenant, and specially on this very text. But the Lord did not command that he would give them the land of Canaan, nor did he promise them to keep his law! We sincerely pity the individual who is truly confused over this distinction.
1 Chron. 16, is parallel with Ps. 105. In these and in Deut. 7:9, the keeping of his commandments is connected with "a thousand generations." Probably the commandments themselves contain the same idea. "Visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; and showing mercy unto thousands of them that love me and keep my commandments." Though the word generation is not in the original in this text, it seems so clearly understood that the translators are justified in inserting it. And so in Ex. 34:7.
"There Is One Lawgiver."
By Editor
WE would not by any means underrate the objections urged against our faith. Though very many of them prove only the strength of prejudice, or how far people may be led from the plain truth of the word of God by tradition, they have all the force of real objections in the minds of those who put them forth, and are therefore entitled to a fair examination.
Many suppose our application of the above text is wrong, because Christ was raised a prophet "like unto" Moses, who was both a lawgiver and mediator; and in the Scriptures we have the phrases, "Law of Moses" and "Law of Christ."
We accept the facts, but insist that they prove the correctness of our application of the text. In the first place, inasmuch as the text is in the New Testament, our opposers should show, if possible, that it may be harmonized with their interpretation. Should they attempt to do this we think they would fail.
There is not in all the Old Testament a law which Moses gave on his own authority. As direct a testimony as the Bible contains is found in John 7:23, which ascribes circumcision to "the law of Moses," and this is an example or illustration of all. Yet the Lord gave circumcision directly to Abraham long before Moses; and in the following manner it was given by, or really through, Moses:—
"And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying. Speak unto the children of Israel, saying." Lev. 12:1-3.
Then follows the order for circumcision. Inasmuch as all those laws came directly from God, the text of James was strictly true in the time of Moses. Jehovah was the "One Lawgiver," and Moses gave no law except as the instrument through whom the Lord spake to Israel. This being so, a becoming reverence should check the sneering manner of all those who are wont to speak so contemptuously of "the law of Moses."
And the same is true, also, of Christ. He never claimed any independent authority, nor to speak for himself or in his own name. Everything is ascribed to the Father. "God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself." Therefore Jesus said, "My doctrine is not mine, but his that sent me." "I can of mine own self do nothing; as I hear I judge; and my judgment is just; because I seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father which hath sent me." "I do nothing of myself; but as my Father hath taught me I speak these things." All is summed up in the following words: "God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son."
Now as "God cannot deny himself," and "with him is neither variableness nor shadow of turning," he could not send his Son to contradict him, or to speak contrary to the revelation of his own will. The morality of both Testaments must necessarily be the same. A moral precept once proclaimed must ever remain the same until God denies himself, or until with him is variableness.
A mediator has respect, in his work, to moral law; such as God proclaimed with his own voice, and himself declared to be the rule of holiness in life. Instead of mediating for positive laws, they are severally parts of the plan of mediation and redemption. It is manifestly true that if Christ gave a new moral law (the very idea of which is an absurdity), or gave any law on an independent basis, that is, by his own sole authority, he could not mediate in respect to that law, for "a mediator is not a mediator of one."
The Warning of the End.
By Uriah Smith
THE book of Revelation is composed, as even a hasty glance at its contents will show, of many separate and distinct lines of prophecy. These are not consecutive, one line being completely fulfilled before another commences; but they are synchronous, the events predicted in one prophetic chain occurring, in many cases, at the same time with those contained in another. Thus the seven churches reveal the internal history of the church, during the gospel dispensation; the seven seals, the history of the church, as connected with outside agents, during the same time; the seven trumpets, the great political events occurring during the same period; and so with the other lines of the prophecy.
Having been taken down through one series of events, we are carried back to the commencement of another. Each line of prophecy reaches to the eternal state, and there ends. When we are carried through to the completion of one series of events, another is introduced, and we are taken down through that to the end, in like manner.
According to these principles, we find a new line of prophecy introduced in the sixth verse of Rev. 14. We call attention to this one, because it is as important as any that can be found in the Revelation. With a few brief steps we are brought down to the great event of all events—the second coming of Christ in the clouds of heaven.
Three angels are seen by John, flying through the midst of heaven with important and solemn announcements to the children of men; and immediately, following their threefold message, one like the Son of man is seen, throned upon a great white cloud, and coming with a sharp sickle in his hand to reap the harvest of the earth. This can represent nothing else but the second advent of Christ, so frequently and plainly predicted in other portions of the Holy Scriptures. These messages, then, are preparatory to that event, and are warnings of it. They show that the coming of Christ is not to occur unheralded. Whenever they are given, they not only make known to the world the coming of the great day of Christ's appearing, but they are themselves one of the strongest signs of its near approach.
Verses 6 and 7 read: "And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that dwell on the earth, and to every nation and kindred and tongue and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear God and give glory to him; for the hour of his judgment is come, and worship him that made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and the fountains of waters."
This is a message from God to men. It concerns every nation, kindred, tongue, and people, on the face of the earth. We want to understand it. "Blessed are they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein; for the time is at hand." When the time comes for this prophecy to be fulfilled, men are to fear God, and give glory to him, for the reason that the hour of his judgment is come. If they fail to do this, they disobey, or at least fail to come up to, this prophetic requirement. But how can they obey this message, unless they can know when it is fulfilled?
Yet some would have us feel that we must not try to understand this matter, because the language is figurative. That the language is figurative, or that a symbol is made use of in this message, we acknowledge; but shall we take fright at a figure of speech? Shall we refuse to listen, whenever the language is symbolic? No one is alarmed at figurative language in any other kind of writing. The fourth-of-July orator will spread the "wings" of the "American eagle" from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and fill the sails of the "ship of State" with the "prosperous gales of peace," and send her bounding away over the "billows of national glory;" but no one denounces the speaker or his theme, because he uses a figure. We only ask that the Bible shall have as fair a chance as any other book.
Archbishop Cranmer, when examiner in the university at Cambridge, gave the true rule of Biblical interpretation. D'Aubigne thus writes of him: "He used to say to the candidates for the ministry, 'Christ sendeth his hearers to the Scriptures, and not to the church.' 'But,' replied the monks, 'they are so difficult.' 'Explain the obscure passages by those which are clear,' rejoined the professor, 'Scripture by Scripture. Seek, pray, and he who has the key of David will open them to you.'"
On this true Protestant principle of interpretation, the great Reformation was based. And the same principle is the foundation of all the progress which truth has made from that day to this. Let scripture interpret scripture, and let the literal language of the Bible explain its figures.
The prophecy we have quoted says that an angel was seen proclaiming the everlasting gospel. The preaching of the gospel is no figure of speech, but a literal work. The angel is the symbol. But by whom is the gospel literally preached? By angels? No; but by men; for into the hands of men this work was committed by the great Teacher. The angel, then, is a symbol of those who are called among men to preach God's word; and the prophecy is simply an announcement of this fact: that at some time a class of religious teachers would be raised up to make the proclamation here recorded. Have they ever appeared? U. S.
They Who Do No Ill
THEY who do no ill think no ill.
Family Sabbath-Schools.
By G. H. Bell
WE are pleased to know that the Youth's Instructor is largely patronized in California. We heartily recommend it to all. For the special benefit of scattered ones we reprint from No. 7 of the weekly edition the following valuable suggestions on the subject of "Family Sabbath-schools."
"There are many scattered families of Sabbath-keepers who cannot meet with others on the Sabbath day; they seldom or never hear any preaching, and frequently have no opportunity to attend prayer-meetings. The Bible and our periodicals are the only religious teachers they have; and the family worship, morning and evening, is the only religious service they attend for months at a time.
"I think it would be a good plan for every such family to organize a family Sabbath-school. It would make the Sabbath pass more pleasantly and profitably.
"The new weekly Instructor furnishes dated lessons for every Sabbath, so that the scattered families can all be studying the same lessons that are learned from Sabbath to Sabbath in the schools. Then if they should at any time have an opportunity to meet with any school, or any other family, all would have learned the same lesson, and would be prepared to unite in recitation and general exercises.
"A family Sabbath-school should begin and close at a definite time, just like any other school. It would be better to have it held in the forenoon, beginning somewhere from nine to half-past ten, and continuing from an hour to an hour and a quarter. The exercises should begin with singing and prayer, and the interest would hold out better if there should be singing once or twice during the exercises, and at the close.
"The parents can hear each other recite, and then hear the lessons of the children. In all cases where there are children in the family, the exercises should be adapted to their wants, and so conducted as to give them frequent change. In this way the hour will pass quickly and pleasantly, and the children will soon learn to look forward to their Sabbath-school with fond anticipations.
"The general exercises may consist of reviews on former lessons, pointing out important places on the map, etc. The afternoon may be spent in reading, and in learning the lessons for the next Sabbath. Thus the Sabbath, instead of being a long, tedious day, will become a delight. Some families have been trying this plan with the most complete success, and we hope soon to hear from others.
"Such schools should report to the State Secretary the same as other schools."
G. H. BELL."
Prof. Knapp's Terrible Prediction.
THE fact that so many fish are dying off the coast of Florida calls to mind the awful prediction of Professor Knapp. From the juxtaposition of certain planets to our earth he predicts that one-half of the population of the world including man and animals, and even vegetable life, will perish before 1880. In a lecture delivered several years ago he said that this desolation would commence by the fish of the sea dying, and pestilence and famine occurring in more southern latitude. The famine in China and the yellow fever scourge in the South, and now the fearful pestilence among the fishes in Southern waters look like so many steps in fulfillment of Professor Knapp's prophecies.—East Florida Banner.
The End of All Things
THE end of all things is at hand.
The Scripture Quilt.
"In one of the boxes sent to us by the Sanitary Commission," writes a Christian worker in a Southern army-hospital, "was a patch-work quilt of unusual softness and lightness. When we opened it, we found a note pinned to it. It read as follows:—
" 'I have made this Scripture quilt for one of the hospital beds, for I thought that whilst it would be a comfort to the poor body, it might speak a word of good to the precious soul; the words are so beautiful and blessed, and full of balm and healing! May it be blessed to the dear boys in the army amongst whom I have a son.'
"It was made of square blocks of calico and white cotton intermingled, and on every white block was written a verse from the Bible or a couplet from one of our best hymns. On the central block, in letters so large as to catch the careless eye, was that faithful saying, in which is our hope and strength—'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.' And below it the prayer of all prayers, 'God be merciful to me a sinner.' The head border, which would be nearest to the sick man's eye, and oftenest read, had the sweetest text of promise, and love, and comfort. Amongst them I read, 'God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish.' 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' 'Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters!' 'I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.' 'Oh,' we said 'Oh that all our beds had such quilts! God will surely speak through these texts to the sick and wounded men! They will read them when they will read nothing else. Who knows how much good they will do!'
"It was not long before a man sick with pneumonia was brought in, and we put our new quilt on his bed. He noticed nothing at first, he was too sick; but when he grew better, I saw him intent on the texts. 'Handy to have 'em here!' he said, pointing to them as I stood near him. 'You know how to value them, then,' I said. 'I do,' he answered, with heartiness. After that I saw many studying the quilt—almost all who lay beneath it. One poor fellow, who had tossed in pain and feverishness for several days, caught sight of the words, 'And I will give you rest,' He beckoned to me, 'Rest! where can I get it? Rest for body and mind, both! I am half mad—sick, as you see, but sicker—as no one can see. Tell me how to get rest!' 'Did you never hear of the way?—never hear of Jesus?' 'Tell me again.' I told him the story of the cross. 'Died for my sins?' he asked. 'Yes yours. He saw you in your sins and pitied you, loved you, died to save you from sin and give you rest; to make you happy.' 'I have never been happy—never. I have been too wicked. And he really died for me? I never felt it before. It never seemed to me a real thing.' I hope you will come to feel it the most real thing. Have you seen the lines—
" 'None but Jesus, none but Jesus,
Can do helpless sinners good?'
'It's true. I know it is none but Jesus! I've tried everything else.'
" 'I'll go to Jesus, though my sins
Have like a mountain rose,'"
I repeated. 'I can't go. I feel that I can't do anything. I am here a very wretched man; and that is all.' 'Just leave yourself to God, then:—
" 'Here, Lord, I give myself away,
'Tis all that I can do.'"
That's all you have to do.' 'Is that verse here?' I showed it to him on the quilt. 'I'll keep it before me. Oh for rest! a little rest!' he groaned again. Not long after he found it—found peace in believing, and left his hospital bed, happier than he had ever been before.
"An Irishman lay under the Scripture quilt. One day when nearly well, he was looking at it. 'Is that radin?' he asked, putting his finger on the text. 'Yes.' 'Sure, and what does it say?' I read, 'And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain.' 'Ye might rade that,' he said, pointing to another text. 'I love them that love me, and they that seek me early shall find me.' 'It is the Lord who says this,' I added after the text. 'Sure, it's good to a lonesome pareson to hear what you rade.' 'So it is. There is no book like the Bible in dark and trying hours.'
"At last came the boy who had the best right to the comfort of our Scripture quilt—the 'son' of whom the good woman who made it spoke in the note attached. It was a strange circumstance that he should have come to lie beneath it, but so it was. He had lain there nearly senseless for more than a week, when I saw him kiss the patch-work. I thought he might be wandering, or if not, found a text of hope or consolation that seemed to suit his need, and marked with my eye the place he had kissed, to see what it was. It was no text, but a calico block, the pattern a little crimson leaf on a dark ground. He kept looking at it, with tears in his eyes, and I was almost sure his mind was wandering. Nay, he was never more in his right mind, and his thoughts were at home with his mother. A bit of the gown he had so often seen her wear had carried him back to her. He kissed it again. I approached him. He looked up and smiled through his tears.
" 'Do you know where this quilt came from?' he asked. 'Some good woman sent it to us through the Sanitary Commission.' 'You don't know her name, nor where it came from?' 'No, but I saved a note that was pinned to the quilt.' 'Would you be willing to let me see it some time when it is convenient?' 'Oh yes. I'll get it now.' I got it for him, his hand trembled, and his lips grew white as he opened it and saw the writing. 'Please read it to me quite slowly,' he said, returning it. 'It is from my mother; shall you keep it?' 'Yes, I answered, 'I value it very much, and also the quilt.' He put his hands over his eyes. I thought he wished to be alone, and left him. As I stood by his bed the next day, I was wondering if he had not seen his mother's texts, as well as the bit of her gown. He had, and pointed one out to me. It was 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.' 'I am no more worthy,' he whispered. I put my finger on the next white block, and read aloud, 'When he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran and fell on his neck, and kissed him.' As I looked at him, I saw there were tears upon his cheeks, and his lips were tremulous. He covered his eyes, and I left him. A few days after, when he had grown stronger, he held up to me the text I had shown him, 'I was a great way off,' he said, 'but He has met me and had compassion on me.' 'You feel the Saviour's love?' 'It fills me with peace.' 'What love! What a Saviour.' I said my thanksgiving. 'Shall I not write to your mother and tell her that her son, who was dead is alive again; was lost and is found?' 'Will it not be too much trouble?' 'Oh, no, a pleasure instead.' I wrote the blessed tidings, making the mother's heart rejoice. And now our Scripture quilt was even dearer, and more sacred than before."
—Sel.
The Home Circle.
SOMEBODY'S MOTHER.
THE woman was old and ragged and gray,
And bent with the chill of winter's day;
The street was wet with recent snow,
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing, and waited long,
Alone, uncared for amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by,
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of "school let out,"
Came the boys like a flock of sheep
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way,
Nor offered a helping hand to her,
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came out of the merry troop
The gayest laddie of all the group;
He paused beside her, and whispered low,
"I'll help you across, if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."
And "somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son and pride and joy!"
—Harper's Weekly.
Working Out Our God-Given Character
By Frederick William Robertson
WE are what we are; we cannot be truly other than ourselves. We reach perfection, not by copying after others, much less by aiming at originality, but by consistently and steadily working out the life which is common to us all, according to the character which God has given us. - F. W. Robertson.
How to Get the Best Places.
THERE are, in society, a great many good places; but the best places are few, and not easily reached. Who shall have the best places? Let any boy look about his schoolroom and ask which of these boys are to have the best places, and he will find it hard to decide. In all the schools there are many thousands of boys, and some of them will get the best places. Who are they? that is the question.
I wish to speak to the boys of one trait which often decides which of two boys who want the same place gets it. I refer to accuracy in scholarship and practice. I do not refer to absolute accuracy, but to that habit which strives to think the thoughts and do the acts as nearly accurate as possible. Some boys use the word "about" too often. "The area of a certin field is about so much;" or a certain city is "about on such a line of latitude;" or "the sum of certain quantities is about so much;" or a certain sentence in a translation or composition is about thus and so. If they spell a word or solve a problem, or keep an engagement, that little word pushes itself into notice. The second class of boys, cultivate the habit of accuracy. They try to "hit the nail on the head," and do it every time. If they add up a column, or multiply, or spell, or make a promise, they aim to do the thing precisely right.
Let two boys of these two kinds apply for a position as book-keeper, or superintendent's clerk, or any other office of trust. The one is about right, the other is right; the one does his work about right, the other does his right; the one may be about accurate in his business, the other is accurate. The accurate boy, other things being equal, will surely get the place, whilst the other one will about not get it.
I saw a young man in the office of a western railway superintendent. He was occupying a position that four hundred boys in that city would have wished to get. It was honorable, and "it paid well," besides being in the line of promotion. How did he get it? Not by having a rich father, for he was the son of a laborer. The secret was his beautiful accuracy. He began as an errand boy, and did his work accurately. His leisure time he used in perfecting his writing and arithmetic. After a while he learned to telegraph. At each step his employer commended his accuracy, and relied on what he did, because he was sure it was just right.
And it is thus with every occupation. The accurate boy is the favored one. Those who employ men do not wish to be on a constant lookout, as though they were rogues or fools. If a carpenter must stand at his journeyman's elbow to be sure his work is right, or if a cashier must run over his book-keeper's columns he might as well do the work himself, as to employ another to do it in that way; and it is certain that the employer will get rid of such an inaccurate workman as soon as possible.
I knew such a young man. He had a good chance to do well; but he was so inaccurate and unreliable that people were afraid to trust him. If he wrote a deed or mortgage, or a contract, he was sure either to leave cut something, or put in something that would make it an imperfect paper. He was a lawyer without business, because he lacked the noble quality of accuracy. Just across the street from him was another young lawyer, who was proverbial for accuracy. He was famous for searching titles, and when he wrote out the history of a title to a piece of property, it was taken for granted that it was right. His aim was absolute accuracy in everything. If he copied a conveyance, or cited legal authority, or made a statement, he aimed to do it exactly. The consequence is, he is having a valuable practice at the bar, and is universally esteemed.
"But," says some boy, "when I become a man, that is the way I shall do. I mean to be very accurate." Perhaps so. I could tell better if I knew just how you did your work now. There are several ways of getting a lesson. One is to get it "tolerably well," which does not cost much labor. The other way is to get it faultlessly well, which costs a great deal of labor. A boy can get a general idea of his lesson with very little labor, but to get it with accuracy is very hard, and requires both time and industry. If you, my boy, to-day are getting your lessons in the slip-shod way, you will grow up a slip-shod man; but if to-day your habit is to get every lesson with perfect accuracy you will do that when you become a man.—Sel.
Blossoms and Fruit
THERE are many more blossoms upon a tree in Spring than there will be apples in Autumn. Yet we are glad to see blossoms, because we know that if there are no blossoms, there can be no fruit.
Intelligence of Animals.
Dogs hold a high social position in Paris, and the result of association with people of good manners is to convert the Parisian dog into an entirely different animal from his provincial brother. An eminent veterinary surgeon in Paris has lately expressed his conviction that dogs are peculiarly susceptible to the influences of civilization. Dogs brought up in the salons of Paris, he observes, behave in all respects with more dignity and intelligence than those to be found in farm houses in the country districts, who pass their lives in the company of agricultural servants in the stable or farm-yard. These country dogs are, as a rule, very far from being refined. The Parisian dogs, on the other hand, accustomed to move in good society and well educated, are remarkable for delicacy, self-possession, good taste and an utter absence of uncouthness in their behavior. There are, this doctor believes, dogs in Paris that, strange as it may seem, have a keen sense of humor, and are capable of appreciating even the higher forms of wit.
A True Story of a Horse.
By Youth's Companion
A few years ago an officer of our army was stationed in Boston. He soon found that his fine horse Charlie, would be of no use to him in the city.
So he sent him into the country. In the pasture there were several horses; and among them, one poor, forlorn old horse, called Paddy, who was constantly teased and worried by the other more frisky horses.
When Charlie, who was a superb animal, arrived, what do you suppose he did? Did he join the others in tormenting poor, harmless old Paddy? No, very far from that.
As soon as he saw how the old horse was treated, Charlie lost no time in making himself his protector. He guarded the trough, and would not let the other horses have a drop to drink until Paddy had had his full share. They all looked up to Charlie, and when they found that old Paddy had such a powerful friend, they gave up their ugly, teasing ways.
So you see it is with animals as it is with men and boys; the truly brave ones always protect the weak. Cowards are only too fond of abusing those not strong enough to defend themselves.—Youth's Companion.
Dog-Speech.
It is certain that dogs can interchange ideas as men talk with one another. It matters little whether they do it by sign or by sound, but they do it easily and effectively. Mrs. Burton gives some curious facts about dog-life in Syria and other Eastern cities. Dogs exist there by hundreds and thousands, without owners or care, and are a kind of community by themselves. Each one belongs to a particular quarter of the city, and is not allowed to live elsewhere. She treated them kindly, and fed them, while the inhabitants beat and stoned them, and in gratitude they undertook to escort her, and defend her from harm. When she went out to walk, a dog always met her, as if appointed by the whole community, accompanied her to the border of his boundary, and passed her over to one belonging to that quarter, who did the same thing in his turn. Each dog wagged his tail, as if bidding good-by, when his work was done.
She says, also, she has often in the quiet night heard a dog come barking from the foot of the mountains. Meeting the dogs on the border of the village, there would be quiet a few minutes, then a general barking in concert; then one dog would start for the middle of the village, with a similar result there; then a single dog again from the further side of the village, followed by general barking there. "Whatever the canine news is," she says, "in about twenty minutes it is passed round to all the dogs in Damascus."
Defense of the Goose.
It is a great libel, says the sportsman, to accuse a goose of being a silly bird. Even a tame goose shows much instinct and attachment; and were its habits more closely observed, the tame goose would be found to be by no means wanting in general cleverness. Its watchfulness at night time is, and always has been, proverbial; and it certainly is endowed with a strong organ of self preservation. You may drive over dog, cat, hen, or pig; but I defy you to drive over a tame goose. As for wild geese, I know of no animal, biped or quadruped, that is so difficult to deceive or approach. Their sense of hearing, seeing, smelling, are extremely acute; independently of which they appear to act in so organized and cautious a manner when feeding or roosting as to defy all danger.
Dieting for Health.
DIETING for health, says Hall's Journal, has sent many a one to the grave, and will send many more because it is done injudiciously or ignorantly. One man omits his dinner by a herculean effort, and thinking he has accomplished wonders, expects wonderful results, but by the time supper is ready he feels hungry as a dog, and eats like one, fast, furious and long. Next day he is worse, and "don't believe in dieting" for the remainder of his life.
Others set out to starve themselves into health, until the system is reduced so low that it has no power of resuscitation, and the man dies.
To diet wisely, does not imply a total abstinence from all food, but the taking of just enough, or of a quality adapted to the nature of the case. Loose bowels weaken very rapidly, total abstinence from all food increases the debility. In this case food should be taken, which, while it tends to arrest the disease, imparts nutriment and strength to the system. By resting on a bed, and eating boiled rice, after it has been parched like coffee, will cure three cases out of four of common diarrhoea in a day or two.
A Jaded Head
DR. CORNELIUS R. AGNEW, of this city, in a recent lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association, said: "The term a jaded head applies to the head that cannot be depended upon for a long stretch of work, that grows weary prematurely, that has to be coaxed from the pillow in the morning, and that does not force the work of the day cheerfully. There are more of such heads than might be supposed. They are found in every rank of life: but chiefly among persons of sedentary pursuits and among both sexes and almost all ages above fourteen. Generally the early symptoms of the malady is discomfort during headwork in the back of the head and in the upper part of the spinal region.
He is a happy man who meets this symptom with rest, and seeks in sunlight and fresh air some fresh investments for his nervous system, and drops every habit that does not do him positive good. If he takes to artificial stimulants for relief, he will begin a career which, sooner or later, will place him among the incurables or bring him to an untimely end. Alcohol and all sleep-producing drugs are dangerous in the highest degree; for they mask the malady, without curing it. No organ in the human body is so abused as the brain, and no organ is so well fitted for daily use. Still, the brain is not so susceptible to disease as some suppose. It was probable there was not a man present who had not during the day abused his brain by overwork, anger, tobacco, alcohol, fuss, hurry, too little sleep, too much sleep, by indolence, by not studying to be quiet, by not doing his own business, by attempting to do something beyond his reach, by attempting to do something for which he had not been sufficiently educated, by carrying an evil conscience, or by the unmanly strain of trying to outdo his neighbor. The remedy of the jaded head is the giving up of all habits which cannot be defended by the highest kind of reasoning; the careful determining by each man of his ability to stand work; the avoidance of doing anything for which a man has no adequate education; rest, recreation, and the keeping up of the tissue-building powers by wholesome food. If there is more nervous disease in this country than elsewhere, it is because the average American youth is supposed to be able to do anything. Men should know on what points they are ignorant, and so escape many damaging strains. Mental application does not weaken the brain. It strengthens it, if not carried to the length at which wholesome food and plenty of sleep fail to refresh it."
In concluding his address, Dr. Agnew said that various diseases increase as large cities are approached. Never in any age have man's faculties been so taxed as now; and the great problem is for each man to do his share of the world's work and keep well. The civilization of to-day does not call for any faculties that a man does not possess; but it calls upon him to use in the best manner the faculties he has, and learn how to bear the strain of living.—N. Y. Independent.
Terrible Fruit.
At a temperance meeting in Philadelphia Judge Price said:—
"Science has revealed, by the aid of the microscope, the presence of living and often disgusting objects in a drop of water. The stomach revolts at the spectacle, under the glass, of the creatures which tenant every refreshing draught, however invisible to the naked eye. Let me tell you what once came out, under the processes of justice in the Court of Oyer and Terminer in this city, from a single gallon of whisky which to most eyes seemed innocent and harmless enough. There came out of it two murderers, two widows, eight orphans, two cells in the States Prison, filled with wretched convicts for a term of years. The whisky, moreover, was used in connection with the administration of one of the ordinances of religion—the sacrament of baptism. It was drunk at the christening of a child, and the men who drank it fought, and two lost their lives, and the further results were what I have said."
Man's Age.
Few men die of old age. Almost all die of disappointment, passion, mental or bodily toil, or accident. The common expression, "choked with passion," has little exaggeration in it, for even though not suddenly fatal, strong passions shorten life. Strong-bodied men often die young; weak men often live longer than the strong, for the strong use their strength, and the weak have none to use. The latter take care of themselves, and the former do not. As it is with the body so it is with the mind and temper. The strong are apt to break, or, like a candle, to run; the weak to run out.
The inferior animals that live temperate lives have generally their prescribed number of years. The horse lives 25; the ox 15 or 20; the dog 10 or 12; the rabbit 8; the guinea-pig 6 or 7 years. These numbers all bear a similar proportion to the time the animal takes to grow to its full size.
But man, of all the animals, is one that seldom lives this average. He ought to live 100 years, according to physical law, for five times 20 is 100; but instead of that he scarcely reaches on an average four times his growing period; the cat 6 times, and the rabbit even 8 times the standard of measurement. The reason is obvious, man is not only the most irregular and intemperate, but the most laborious and hard-worked of all animals. He is also the most irritable, and there is reason to believe, though we cannot tell what an animal secretly feels, that more than any other animal, man cherishes wrath to keep it warm, and consumes himself with the fire of his own secret reflections.—Sel.