"Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh." That which a person thinks about, and upon which the affections are placed, he will naturally talk about. And his thoughts and conversation go to influence his deeds. These three things—thoughts, words, and acts—make up his life, either good or evil. A man by reading infidel publications, and associating with infidels, becomes such himself. And another, by reading the Bible and studying its principles, and associating with good men, will learn to delight in holy things and be influenced to a life of devotion.
A youth placed in a military school learns the science of war, and it becomes a pleasing occupation. The sailor, by constantly following the sea, becomes inured to its perils, learns to love the romance of a home on the waves, and looks with indifference and even dislike upon the quiet life of the landsman. He delights in seeing foreign lands and roaming from country to country.
So it is that the mind is trained to act its part in the drama of life. There is power in the movements of a disciplined mind. A year ago a prominent cattle dealer, through a mistaken move, lost his all. But, being of a plucky nature, he only asked a little time and credit, and already we hear that he has nearly recovered his fortune, through diligent, careful work and management. Men of the world train their minds for earnest, successful work. They study day and night to compass their ends, and gather in the dollars. They are thoroughly versed in the current price lists; the rise and fall of this or that article in the leading markets of the world are carefully considered. Constant practice renders them adepts in their various lines of business.
With the sailor or the soldier a proper training of the mental and physical powers is indispensable to success, if he aspire to promotion, and the issue is often one of life or death. A failure in a single instance to perform duty wisely may result in fatal disaster. So in the various avocations of life, failure to act intelligently often ends in bankruptcy and poverty. How necessary then, even for this life, to thoroughly prepare for the conflict that awaits us—to settle upon a suitable calling, and then fulfill its requirements with skill and integrity.
But how much more important to be skilled in the things pertaining to the kingdom of God. How can the young best be trained, both for this life and the next? is a momentous question. How few wise fathers and mothers. How few make it a point to study the traits of each child, and suit their training to the great end to be obtained. In this connection how important is self-control. Perfect control of the will, the reason, the judgment, and the affections is not gained in a day or in a year; it is the work of a life-time—a greater work than the preparation for any merely secular calling. But it is indispensable to a religious life to not only gain but to maintain self-control under all circumstances, in calm or in storm, in prosperity or in adversity.
A holy life must have its seat in the heart. Some good man once said that the heart of man before his conversion is the worst part of him, and after his conversion it is the best part. He might have said that it is all there is of man either before or after he becomes a Christian. The words and acts of life are but the outward manifestation of what is going on within; the heart is the workshop, and the outward life is the work turned out of the shop and put to practical use. Then the preparation of the heart for the grand calling to the service of God should be the leading object of life. Proper training for a practical Christian life should be our first educational aim. "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and the necessary things of this life will be added.
JOSEPH CLARKE.
The Lord Raiseth Them That Are Bowed Down
"The Lord openeth the eyes of the blind; the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down; the Lord loveth the righteous."
Tattlers and Slanderers.
"HAVING in my youth notions of severe piety," says a celebrated Persian writer, "I used to rise in the night to watch and pray, and read the the Koran. One night, as I was thus engaged, my father awoke. 'Behold,' said I to him, thy other children are lost in irreligious slumber while I alone wake to praise God.' 'Son of my soul,' he answered, 'It is better to sleep than to wake to remark the faults of thy brethren.'" And yet the world—ah! and the church too—abound with persons who make it their concern to attend to everybody's business but their own. These persons are the meanest specimens of humanity Providence permits to live. They pry into the private affairs of every family in the neighborhood; they know the exact state of neighbors' feelings toward one another; they understand everybody's faults; no blunder or impropriety escapes their vigilant watchfulness. They are particularly posted up in everything connected with the minister and his people, and any little circumstance calculated to create a disturbance, excite a jealousy, or to alienate ministers and people, is sure to be eagerly seized and widely circulated. They go from house to house, from village to village, from minister to people, throwing out insinuations and whispering suspicions which are the offspring of their own cruel minds. No reputation is too spotless, no institution too sacred, no interest too precious for them to attack. Their black and nauseous pills of malicious slander are all coated with pleasant smiles and loud professions of love. They have no higher ambition than to be well informed in regard to other people's business, to retail scandal among all within the circle of their influence, and exult in fiendish triumph over the bruised heart and wounded feelings and blighted reputation of their victim. There are in this world other daggers than those of steel, and other poniards than those that wound and lacerate the body. The man who circulates foul and unfounded slanders against his fellow-man is an assassin of the deepest dye; and many a man's character has been ruined by these secret assassins. A good man once remarked upon this subject, "Whenever I hear anybody slandering another I just turn to the Old Testament, and point them to that command of God recorded in Lev. 19:14, 'Thou shalt not curse the deaf.'" Yes, he who backbites and slanders his fellow-men is cursing the deaf, inasmuch as they cannot hear what is being said. Anybody can soil the reputation of an individual, however pure and blameless that reputation may be, by uttering a suspicion that his enemies will believe and his friends never hear of.
There is an animal haunting some of the less inhabited parts of North America that is said to emit a fluid of such intolerable odor that it nearly suffocates man or beast that comes within its range; and what is still worse, this noisome stench is all but indelible. If it once taints a piece of furniture or a garment, it is next to impossible to be rid of it while a splinter or a shred of an article remains. No amount of washing or scrubbing or exposure to the air can cleanse, nor can all the perfume of Arabia sweeten the thing it has touched. Slander seems to have the same tenacious quality of clinging to any object that has once been polluted by its obscene breath. Contempt for such graceless creatures should know no bounds, nor can we command any words by which to express our sense of the infinitude of this diabolical and widespread evil. Such factors of social wrong deserve the severest punishment, and sooner or later they will receive retribution in proportion to the magnitude of their offense against the law of God and the interests of injured humanity. "Lord, who shall abide in thy tabernacle? who shall dwell in thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbor." "Whoso privily slandereth his neighbor, him will I cut off."
Robert Burns, although occasionally coarse, is seldom otherwise than happy in the severity of his satire. Respecting the characters of whom we write we cannot forbear introducing a stanza or two referring to Christ's false friends. He says:—
I own I'm not the thing I should be,
Nor am I e'en the thing I could be;
But Heav'n knows, I rather would be
An atheist clean
Than under gospel colors hid be,
Just for a screen.
All hail, Religion! maid divine!
Pardon a muse sae mean as mine,
Who in a rough, imperfect line
Thus daurs to name thee:
To stigmatize false friends of thine,
Can ne'er defame thee.
—Primitive Methodist (Eng.).
THE difficulty of living a consistent Christian life, which some persons complain of as if there were something of injustice in requiring it, has generally no other foundation than arises from trying to appear religious when one is not so. If one will actually follow Christ he finds royal companionship and the peace that passeth all understanding. He really passes from bondage to liberty, and all the burdens of life are not only made lighter, but they afford an ennobling discipline. But to take the name of Christ, yet not fully consent to become his disciple; to say that one is seeking a heavenly city while he is making all his investments in worldly possessions; in short, the attempt to serve God and Mammon is what makes a religious profession perplexing. God says, "Give me thy heart." If the heart be given, the service is joyful. By one stroke, if one follows God's command, self is dethroned, and then all becomes easy and, as it were, natural. The simple recipe for a comfortable religious life is to be religious, not to make a pretense of being religious.—Sel.
Seventh-day Adventists Defended by a Stranger.
EDITOR SIGNS: On my way home from California, when the train stopped at Cedar Rapids, a man came aboard and took a seat directly opposite me. He had a cigar in his hand, and soon applied a match and commenced smoking. From his conversation with a gentleman in the next seat, I learned that he was on his way to Washington, and that he had some business with the President; I also heard some remarks about members of his church.
When he had finished his conversation and was ready for a second cigar, I inquired, "Are you a minister?" He replied, "Yes, of the — church." I then asked, "Have you a church of Seventh-day Adventists in your town?" He answered, "Yes; but they don't amount to anything only to make trouble in other churches." He then commenced pouring down the severest anathemas on the Seventh-day Adventist people. The first charge was that they are unorthodox; then, that they have no religion except the seventh day for the Sabbath; their ministers are an ignorant set of men; and lastly, that they are Spiritualists and fanatics!
My first thought was to make no reply. In an instant, however, I resolved, by the help of God, to try to defend the truth. So I replied to him: "You say they are not orthodox. I had the privilege, a few weeks ago, of attending a State convention at Healdsburg, Cal., which lasted ten days. They had services four times each day; frequently these were Bible-readings, in which hundreds of passages of Scripture were cited in defense of the doctrines of the church; and I am satisfied that they are as orthodox as any church on earth. As to the seventh day being the Sabbath of God's appointment, you, sir, believe it as firmly as they; we all believe it. And I challenge you to produce a single text of Scripture to prove that, by divine authority, the Sabbath was changed from the seventh to the first day of the week."
He then quoted what Paul says about "another day of rest." I remarked that Paul was not treating of the Sabbath at all, but of the rest that remains for the people of God. I then continued, regarding the Seventh-day Adventists: "As to the religion of their church, I never was among a people where more brotherly love and Christian fellowship seemed to prevail than I witnessed during the meetings at Healdsburg. You said, sir, that their ministers are illiterate, ignorant men. Have you ever heard Elder —?" He said he had not. I replied: "I heard him twice, and I have heard several of the bishops of your church; his discourses compare favorably with those of any of your bishops that I have heard. There were a number of ministers of fine talents at that meeting. You charge them with being 'offshoots of Spiritualists;' no people are farther from that delusion. Their standard writings denounce everything connected with Spiritualism."
"But before closing my conversation with you, sir, I wish to make one remark—the Seventh-day Adventists are unqualifiedly devoted to the cause of temperance. In this they are an example to all the churches. They require their members to abstain from all intoxicating beverages, and tobacco in every form."
The color came deeply to his face. "And what have you to say against the use of tobacco?" he asked. "I say, sir, it is an expensive, loathsome, filthy practice,—unfit for human beings to indulge." "Filthy!" he ejaculated; "point out wherein it is filthy!" He had, by accident or design, discharged his saliva nearer my feet than his own, and I just turned my index finger toward it.
Yours truly, A STRANGER.
The Secret of True Happiness.
By D. T. Bourdeau
Most people fail to secure true happiness because they seek it in a selfish manner, to the neglect of God and their fellow-creatures. This is not only true of the world at large, but also of many professed Christians, whose first aim in their religious exercises is to be happy, to get a blessing. Such get disappointed; for God cannot bless any one in selfishness.
It is impossible, in the very nature of things, for a selfish person to be truly happy. True happiness consists in the proper use of all our powers; but a selfish person perverts his powers and does violence thereto in centering them upon himself. Such an one is in antagonism with his benevolence, veneration, and conscience, and bestows upon himself his supreme affections, which he should bestow upon the Author of his existence and of all his blessings, who can bless as no other being can. Such an one, being at war with himself, and having lost his equilibrium with man and with his Maker, cannot enjoy inward peace and true happiness.
It is when we are forgetful of self and occupied in seeking to make others happy, and in promoting the glory of God, that God remembers and blesses us, and that we are truly happy. If we love our neighbor as we love ourselves, we shall be as happy when we see them prosper as we are when we are prospered ourselves. Therefore, possessing the principle of equal love for our neighbors in our hearts, when we cause another to prosper in God our happiness is doubled. Hence the more we persuade to accept the truth and prepare for the coming of Christ, the happier will we be. This is the secret of true happiness,—the joy of the Lord in which the redeemed shall enter, in the fullest sense of that expression, when they shall see the full fruit of their labors in souls saved forever in the kingdom of endless glory.
Brethren and sisters, let us try more fully this secret of true happiness.
D. T. BOURDEAU.
The Sabbath-School.
By Ellen G. White
LESSON FOR THE PACIFIC COAST.—MAY 31.
ACTS, CHAPTER 25.
Paul Appeals to Cæsar.
THE governor appointed in the place of Felix, was Porcius Festus, a far more honorable ruler. He had a higher sense of the responsibility of his position, and, refusing to accept bribes, he endeavored to administer justice. Three days after his arrival at Cæsarea, Festus went up to Jerusalem. Here he was speedily importuned by the Jews, who lost no time in presenting their accusations against Paul. The long imprisonment of Paul had not softened their malignant hatred, nor shaken their determination to take his life. They urged that he should be tried by the Sanhedrim, and requested that he be immediately sent to Jerusalem. Although this request was so plausible, it concealed a deep-laid plot. They were resolved not to leave him even to the decision of the Sanhedrim council, but to summarily disposed of the case by murdering him on the way.
At Cæsarea, Festus had already met the popular clamor against Paul, but at Jerusalem the demand for his death was not merely the cry of the mob. A deputation of the most honorable personages of the city, headed by the high priest, formally presented the request concerning Paul, not doubting that this new and inexperienced official could be moulded at pleasure, and that to gain their favor he would readily grant all that they desired.
But Festus was not a man who would sacrifice justice to gain popularity. The Jews soon found that they were dealing with one who more resembled a Gallio than a Felix. With keen insight he penetrated the motive that prompted their request, and courteously declined to send for Paul. He stated, however, that he himself would soon return to Cæsarea, and that he would there give them a fair opportunity to prefer their charges against him. This was not what they wanted. Their former defeat was not forgotten. They well knew that in contrast with the calm bearing and forcible arguments of the apostle, their own malignant spirit and baseless accusations would appear in the worst possible light. Again they urged that Paul be brought to Jerusalem for trial. But Festus answered decidedly that whatever their practice might be, it was not the custom of the Romans to sacrifice any man's life merely to gratify his accusers, but to bring the accused face to face with his accusers, before impartial witnesses, and to give him an opportunity to defend himself. God in his providence controlled the decision of Festus, that the life of the apostle might be preserved.
Finding their purposes defeated, the Jewish leaders at once organized a powerful deputation to present their accusations at the court of the procurator. After a stay of eight or ten days in Jerusalem, Festus returned to Cæsarea, and the next day took his seat at the tribunal to hear the case. The Jews, on this occasion being without a lawyer, preferred their charges themselves. The trial was a scene of passionate, unreasoning clamor on the part of the accusers, while Paul with perfect calmness and candor clearly showed the falsity of their statements.
The Jews repeated their charges of heresy, treason, and sacrilege, but could bring no witnesses to sustain them. They endeavored to intimidate Festus, as they had once intimidated Pilate, by their pretended zeal for the honor of Cæsar. But Festus had too thorough an understanding of the Roman law to be deceived by their clamor. He saw that the real question in dispute related wholly to Jewish doctrine, and that, rightly understood, there was nothing in the charges against Paul, could they be proved, that would render him worthy of death, or even imprisonment. Yet he saw clearly the storm of rage that would be created if Paul were not to be condemned or delivered into their hands.
He looked with disgust upon the scene before him,—the Jewish priests and rulers, with scowling faces and gleaming eyes, forgetting the dignity of their office, eagerly reiterating their accusations in tones that grew louder and louder until the tribunal rang with their cries of rage. Heartily desiring to end it all, he turned to Paul, who stood calm and self-possessed before his adversaries, and asked if he was willing to go to Jerusalem under his protection, to be tried by the Sanhedrim.
This would virtually transfer the matter from Roman to Jewish jurisdiction. Paul knew that he could not look for justice from that people who were by their crimes bringing down upon themselves the wrath of God. Like the prophet Elijah, he would be safer among the heathen than with those who had rejected the light from Heaven, and hardened their hearts against the truth. When his life had been imperiled by the wrath of his enemies, it was heathen magistrates that had been his deliverers. Gallio, Lysias, Felix, Festus, had not hesitated to proclaim the innocence, while every Jewish tribunal had condemned him, without proving his guilt.
Paul was weary of strife, weary of the fierce reiterating of charges, again and again refuted, and as often renewed. His active spirit could ill endure the repeated delays and wearing suspense of his trial and imprisonment. How repulsive to him had been the daily contact with the coarse, idle, unprincipled soldiery, the frequent sounds of contention, and the rumors of strife and bloodshed between Jew and Gentile. He had nothing more to hope for from Jewish priests or rulers; but as a Roman citizen he had one special privilege, he could appeal to Cæsar, and for a time, at least, his enemies would be kept at bay.
To the governor's question, Paul made answer, I stand at Cæsar's tribunal. Here, and not before the Sanhedrim, I ought to be judged. Turning to the procurator, he appealed to him directly: Even you, Festus, are convinced that no charges have been sustained against me. I have never in any respect wronged the Jews. If I have committed any crime, it is not against them, but against the emperor; and if found guilty, I do not refuse to die. But if the accusations they bring against me cannot be proved, no one can give me into their power as a favor. I appeal unto Cæsar.
Festus knew nothing of the conspiracies of the Jews to murder Paul, and he was surprised at this appeal to Cæsar. It was not flattering to the pride of the Roman procurator, that the first case brought before him should be thus referred to higher authority. However, the words of the apostle put a stop to the proceedings of the court. Felix held a brief consultation with his counsel, and all agreeing that the appeal was legally admissible, he said to the prisoner: "Hast thou appealed unto Cæsar? unto Cæsar shalt thou go." This was said in a tone and manner which seemed to imply that Paul little knew what an appeal to Cæsar meant.
Once more the hatred born of Jewish bigotry and self-righteousness had driven the servant of God to turn for protection to a heathen ruler. It was the same hatred that forced the prophet Elijah to flee for succor to the widow of Sarepta; that constrained the heralds of the gospel to proclaim their message to the Gentiles. It is the same spirit that the people of God in this age have yet to meet. In the great crisis through which they are soon to pass, they will become better acquainted with the experience of Paul. Among the professed followers of Christ, there is the same pride, formalism, vainglory, selfishness, and oppression, that existed in the Jewish nation. Before the warfare shall be ended and the victory won, we as a people are to experience trials similar to those of Paul. We shall encounter the same hardness of heart, the same cruel determination, the same unyielding hatred.
Men professing to be representatives of Christ will take a course similar to that taken by priests and rulers in their treatment of Paul. All who would fearlessly serve God according to the dictates of their own conscience, will need moral courage, firmness, and a knowledge of God and his word, to stand in that evil day. Persecution will again be kindled against those who are true to God; their motives will be impugned, their best efforts misinterpreted, their names cast out as evil. Then will it come to pass, as foretold by Christ, that whoever shall seek to destroy the faithful, will think that he is doing God service. Then Satan will work with all his fascinating power, to influence the heart and becloud the understanding, to make evil appear good, and good evil. Then it is that he is through his agents to "show great signs and wonders, insomuch that, if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect."
God would have his people prepared for the soon-coming crisis. Prepared or unprepared, we must all meet it. Only those whose characters are thoroughly disciplined to meet the divine standard will be able to stand firm in that testing time. But when enemies shall be on every side, watching them for evil, the God of Heaven will be watching his precious jewels for good. When secular rulers unite with the ministers of religion to come between God and our conscience, then those who cherish the fear of God will be revealed. When the darkness is deepest, then the light of a noble, Godlike character will shine the brightest. When every other trust fails, then it will be seen who have an abiding trust in God.
The stronger and purer the faith of God's people, and the firmer their determination to obey him, the more will Satan stir up the rage of those who claim to be righteous, while they trample upon the law of God. In that coming emergency, rulers and magistrates will not interpose in behalf of God's people. There will be a corrupt harmony with all who have not been obedient to the law of God. In that day, all time-servers, all who have not the genuine work of grace in the heart, will be found wanting. It will require the firmest trust, the most heroic purpose, to hold fast the faith once delivered to the saints.—Mrs. E. G. White, in Sketches from the Life of Paul.
The Knowledge of God
THUS saith the Lord, by his servant Solomon: "My son, if thou wilt receive my words, and hide my commandments with thee; so that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding; . . . if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures; then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God."
Augustus.
In Acts 25, Festus twice states that Paul had appealed to Augustus. As Nero was emperor at this time, to whom did he refer? Evidently to the emperor, for Paul said, verse 11, "I appeal unto Cæsar." This was a title applied to Julius, and the Roman Emperors after him. In Luke 2:1 it is said that "there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed." It might be inferred from this that Augustus was the emperor's name, but it was not. His real name was Octavianus (see "Barnes' Notes"), and he assumed the title Augustus—august or honorable—in compliment to his own greatness. From this followed the custom of addressing or speaking of the emperors as Augustus, although that was not the proper name of any of them.
Temperance.
By Editor
"Protection" and "Respect" for Rum-selling.
A FEW days ago an organization of liquor-sellers in this State formulated resolutions asserting that the business in which they are engaged is "legitimate," and "entitled to the protection and respect" of the community. Long habit doubtless blunts perception. The soap-boiler cannot smell the stench which pervades in his works. The dealer in hides comes to think his wares sweet and inoffensive; and so it is possible that those whose business is to sell poison to the public, and who witness hourly the disastrous effects of their trade, may think it is deserving of respect. But the public can make no such mistake. A trade which flourishes upon the ruin of its supporters, which derives its revenues from the plunder of homes, from the defrauding of helpless childhood, and from the degradation of manhood; which requires for its prosperity the injury of the community; which ministers to every vile and vicious passion and propensity; which makes drunkards, and thieves, and embezzlers, and gamblers, and wife-beaters, and murderers; which brutalizes and degrades all who are brought in contact with it—cannot claim the respect, and assuredly ought not to be able to claim the encouragement, of the community.
It indeed indicates the extent of the prevalent demoralization, that a business so inherently infamous, so unquestionably against public policy, should have been permitted to establish itself so firmly that those who pursue it are convinced, not only that it is legitimate, but that it is "entitled to protection and respect." But upon what grounds do these bold claims rest? What constitutes a legitimate, respectable business? Is a business which debauches, impoverishes, injures the public, either the one or the other? When such questions have to be asked it is time that they were settled definitely. At present rum-selling is technically legitimate. That is to say, it is not unlawful. But since its consequences are what we see, it would be an abuse of language to term it respectable.
But it does not stop at these insolent pretensions. It tells the people that it has great political power; that it is organized; and that it will fight reform and temperance with the votes of the unfortunates it has embruted. This then is what the community has to face. It must either submit to the political supremacy of the rum-sellers; it must either accept their government; it must either bow to their standard of morals and declare them to be entitled to "protection and respect;" or it must make up its mind to a conflict the aim and end of which shall be the overthrow of this abominable abuse, and the protection of the masses against the worst foe of civilization.
They will oppose any reform whatever. They deny the right of the people to protect themselves at all. They claim the right themselves to poison and brutalize and degrade all whom they can reach. They think that they will be supported in this by the public they fleece and injure, and upon the persistence of whose animal appetites they coarsely calculate. Hitherto they have unhappily been justified in this dependence. The men who had most cause to loathe the business have been among the first to uphold and fortify it. But a change is even now passing over public opinion. It is becoming more and more generally recognized that intemperance is at the bottom of two-thirds of the social, political, and moral evils that retard progress and perplex and harass the legislator. It is being comprehended that an effective and safe franchise requires sobriety and intelligence in the voter. In fact it is being realized that the future of the nation depends largely upon mastering the elements which have their origin and derive all their strength from rum, and which militate at every turn against good government, pure social conditions, religion, and progress.
—N. Y. Tribune.
Where Is the Right of It?
By Neal Dow
SOME time ago I saw it proclaimed in the press, by authority of a prominent and influential clergyman, that he did not favor abstinence from alcoholic drinks, but, on the contrary, that he approved their habitual use. It seems to me there must be a right and a wrong as to this matter, and it ought not to be difficult to find.
Some time ago, a stranger to me and I were the only occupants of a carriage on an English railway. The gentleman knew me; he was a rector of the English Church. He commenced a conversation brusquely by asking:—
"Mr. Dow, do you (temperance people) hold that to drink a glass of wine is a sin for us?"
"We say nothing of that; but this is our view: An intelligent man must know something of the sin, shame, crime, and horror, which in this country come from intemperance. He must know that intemperance comes from the drinking habits of society. He must know, also, that these are upheld and perpetuated by the example and influence of the better classes of the people. For a man who knows all this to lend the influence of his example to uphold the customs whence all this mischief comes, is a mortal sin. We hold it to be a primary Christian duty so to live that if all the world should follow our example no harm could come from it. If our example of total abstinence should be adopted by all the world, the sin, shame, crime, and infinite misery coming from intemperance would cease in a day, and the world would be relieved of nine-tenths of the wretchedness by which it is now cursed."
The rector made no reply.—Hon. Neal Dow.
SHE ANSWERED "NO."
THEY stood at the altar; the one at his side
All blushing and trembling would soon be his bride;
Kind friends gathered 'round them, the young and the fair,
A priest in the robes of his office was there.
How holy, how solemn, the vows to be given;
An angel was waiting to hear them to Heaven;
The priest bade her answer for weal or for woe—
In faltering accents she answered him, "No!"
She spoke to her lover in tones fraught with pain—
"Your promise is broken, to trust you is vain;
When breathing your vows on this altar divine
Was wafted to me a strong odor of wine.
To-day we were plighted; you promised me then
Your honor you never would taste it again;
All vainly they pleaded, she still answered "No!
Wedding a tippler brings misery and woe.
"You may lay all the wealth of worlds at my feet,
And seek untold pleasures my joy to complete,
Bring earth's rarest jewels encircling my brow,
All fail in a balance with one broken vow."
Let those who would censure her, look all around,
See victims of rum everywhere to be found;
See wives broken-hearted, hear widows' sad wail,
And thousands of orphans repeat their sad tale.
Oh rum! sad destroyer, thy withering breath
Fills our beautiful world with shadows of death,
Far worse than the night when on Midian's plain,
The pride of the nation in anger was slain. —Sel.
History-Making.
It is a great part of his task when a historian has found out where to look for the materials of his history; and sometimes the materials for history are found in rather strange places. Thus in a recent study of the sociology of Berlin by a prominent professor of the University there, the author is compelled to say: "The social history of our people must be written to-day at the doors of the drinking-saloons." It is a sad thing for any people when its life is to be traced within the doors of the dram-shop, rather than within the doors of the home; and the words of the German professor may well prompt the pointed query, Where would the inquirer seek, not alone for the materials for the social history of the American people, but for the individual life-history of every one of us? A great deal depends upon the answer to the question whether he would find the materials for our life-story in the saloon or in the home, at the gambling-table or in the study, at the theater or at the little mission hall, in the ways that lead to death, or in the house of God. Each of us is leaving, day by day, materials for a history which the angels of God will write with smiles or with tears; and we ought to see to it that they will not have to gather the record of our life-deeds from places which are the abodes of darkness and the gates of hell.—S. S. Times.
Failure of the Light-Wine Cure.
By National Temperance Advocate
A FEW years ago the Chicago Tribune was very zealously advocating the general use of light wines and beer as a remedy for intemperance. Total abstainers objected then, as now, to the use of these lighter beverages as tending to develop an appetite for the stronger alcoholics. Switzerland is a wine-producing country with the very best opportunity to test the efficacy of light wines as a safeguard against intemperance. But now comes the Chicago Tribune with a wail that Switzerland has become the most drunken country in Europe! Just what might have been expected. The much-vaunted "light-wine cure" is also a "failure."
—National Temperance Advocate.
Angels Don't Chew Tobacco.
THE following is said to be true: A preacher out West, Mr. H., was a good man, but very rough in his ways, and very much given to chewing tobacco. One time he was riding on horseback through the country, when there came up a shower. Riding up to a cabin, he hastily hitched his horse, and knocked at the door. A sharp-looking old lady answered the summons. The preacher asked for shelter.
"I don't take in strangers—I don't know you," replied the old lady, suspiciously.
"But you know what the Bible says," said the preacher. "'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.'"
"You needn't quote Bible," said the old lady quickly; "no angel would come down from heaven with a quid of tobacco in his mouth as you have!" The door was shut, and the preacher unhitched his horse and rode away in the rain.—Sel.
When Temperance Becomes Fashionable
When physicians stop giving whisky and alcoholic medicines to their patients; when editors practice temperance as well as preach it; when young men have the courage to say "No!"; when preachers stop the practice of giving wine to pledged temperance men at the sacrament; when temperance becomes as fashionable as drunkenness now is, cold water will be at a premium.—Sel.
Women Against Grog-Shops
In Stamford, Conn., a thousand women were asked how many wanted grog-shops, and there was just one wanted them. In Des Moines, Iowa, just twelve women voted for saloons, and 2,245 against. Three years ago 95,000 women asked the Legislature to allow them to vote to protect their homes against grog-shops.—Ex.
Saloons and Bakeries
CHICAGO has one saloon to every thirty-five families, and one bakery to every four hundred and seventy families, and the comparison will hold good in numerous other places. It is evident that there are people yet, who think, like the Irishman, that "bread may be the staff of life, but whisky is life itself."—Ex.