Earlier text: SABBATH IN THE EARLY RECORDSThe smoker who is wedded to the habit, cannot readily understand why every one else does not like the odor. But the fact is patent that the scent of tobacco is not only disagreeable to some persons, but also absolutely poisonous. It does not mend the matter to say that this is mere prejudice or weakness. You have no right to make others uncomfortable for your own satisfaction. No gentleman will thrust himself in close proximity to ladies with his coat saturated with stale smoke. No gentleman will pass through a car carrying a lighted cigar in his hand, and leaving a trail of offensive smoke behind him. No gentleman will get in a stage carrying a smoldering stump in his hand, and keep it there until it smolders out and emits a more hideous stench than before. No gentleman will puff out his costly smoke on the platform of the horse-car, when the passengers inside cannot escape some portions of the fumes. But you can find "men" doing these things every day in the week. Mr. Goodfellow is a well-known S. S. superintendent in a flourishing city in one of our prairie States. He is head and front of the temperance movement in his town, and an uncompromising enemy of tobacco; nevertheless, within the memory of many living witnesses, he used to love a good cigar as well as any one. He tells how he was finally cured:— "On leaving my office one evening, in accord with my usual custom, I lighted a fragrant cigar which I proposed to enjoy as I pursued my homeward way. I had advanced but a few steps, when I saw sitting on the curb, puffing away at the stump of a villainous cigar, a youngster whom I recognized as a member of my Sunday-school. A quick disgust filled my soul, and words of reproof rose to my lips; but how could I utter them with the weed between my teeth. The disability was not nearly so apparent in its physical as in its moral aspect. Clearly the cigar must be gotten from sight, or my lips remain sealed, and the boy left to follow the bent of an evil inclination, and doubtless become a victim of a pernicious habit. Quick as thought, I whipped the cigar from my mouth and held it behind my back, while I administered a merited reproof and timely warning. The boy threw away his stump, and promised not to try another, and I backed around the corner, fearing to turn lest my own sin should be discovered, and my influence destroyed. When fairly out of sight, I threw my cigar into the gutter, inwardly vowing before God never again to touch the weed; and I never have." How many fathers are ready to make a like sacrifice for the sake of their sons? How many teachers, that they may consistently warn their pupils of evil likely to follow in the wake of this habit? How many pastors, that they may present themselves undefiled in the sight of the youth of their charges, and lead them in the ways of purity and true temperance?—Church and Home. "WHAT ails papa's mouf?" said a sweet little girl,
Her bright laugh revealing her teeth white as pearl;
"I love him, and kiss him, and sit on his knee,
But the kisses don't smell good when he kisses me!" "But mamma"—her eyes opened wide as she spoke—
"Do you like nasty kisses of 'bacco and smoke?
They might do for boys, but for ladies and girls
I don't think them nice," as she tossed her bright curls. "Don't nobody's papa have moufs nice and clean?
With kisses like yours, mamma—that's what I mean?
I want to kiss papa, I love him so well,
But kisses don't taste good that have such a smell!" "It's nasty to smoke, and eat 'bacco and spit,
And the kisses aint good, and aint sweet, not a bit!"
And her blossom-like face wore a look of disgust
As she gave out her verdict so earnest and just. Yes, yes, little darling! your wisdom has seen,
That kisses for daughters and wives should be clean,
For kisses lose something of nectar and bliss
From mouths that are stained and unfit for a kiss. GIVE ME DRINK.—Mr. Leod, an English writer, puts the following language in the mouths of those who visit the rumseller's den: There's my money—give me drink! There's my clothing and my food—give me drink! There's the clothing, food, and fire of my wife and children—give me drink! There's the education of the family and the peace of the house—give me drink! There's the rent I have robbed from my landlord, fees I have robbed from the school-master, and innumerable articles I have robbed from the shop-keeper—give me drink! Pour me out drink, for more will I yet pay for it. There's my health of body and peace of mind—there's my character as a man and my profession as a Christian—I give up all—give me drink! More yet I have to give! There's my heavenly inheritance and the eternal friendship of the Redeemed—there is all hope of salvation. I give up my Saviour! I give up my God! I resign all. All that is great and glorious in the universe, I resign forever that I may be drunk. At a social meeting a few evenings since, the cause of intoxication, among other subjects, was the theme of conversation. A gentleman stated that when a young man, he was in the habit of enjoying himself with his friends over a social bottle, until father Taylor cursed him with a clap of thunder! "Walking, or rather rolling through the streets one day," he continued, "I hailed the old salt, singing out, How d'do, my old boy. Father Taylor stopped short, and seizing me by the coat-collar with both hands, looked me sternly in the face—I shall never forget the look—and then demanded in a voice of thunder—Young man, is rum of more value to you than your reputation? Go home and get sober; the very dogs in the street shun you with disgust! I went home overwhelmed with shame, and though ten years have elapsed since that time, nothing that could intoxicate has passed my lips, nor shall I ever forget that my reputation is of more value than all the rum in the world." A Drunken Man’s False Conversion
A DRUNKEN man came up to Rowland Hill one day and said, "I am one of your converts, Mr. Hill." "I dare say you are," replied that shrewd and sensible preacher; "but you are none of the Lord's converts, or you would not be drunk." Repentance Without Amendment
REPENTANCE without amendment is like pumping without stopping the leak. “DEAR me,” sighed Mr. Turmoyle, as a burst of shrill, childish laughter sounded from the nursery down the hall stairs and into the sitting-room where he was making out some accounts. “I wish those children would be quiet! Ain't it most bed-time, Tillie?” “They are probably undressing,” Mrs. Turmoyle replied, quietly. “I'll go and see if they are ready for bed.” “Do keep them quiet until they are.” There was an interval of profound silence, and in about half an hour the mother returned. “They're asleep now,” she said. “Tom had dressed the kitten in Bessie's doll's clothes.” The accounts finished, Mr. Turmoyle leaned back in his chair. “I wish you had some management with those children, Tillie,” he said. “I went over to Stone's on business last evening, and you would not have known there was a child in the house. And Stone has five, while we have only three.” “Perhaps they were all abed.” “They were all in the next room,” was the triumphant reply. “Stone is proud of them, and well he may be. There is Willie, just the age of our Tom, studying Latin instead of dressing kittens in doll's clothes, and Amy, who will not be four years old for three months, reads well and knows the multiplication table through. Look at our savages!” “They are getting along well at school, dear. I think Mark is too young yet to study. The others did not go to school until they were five.” “And Tom just manages to write a decent letter at twelve, while Willie is at Latin grammar. And as for manners, why Tom will make more noise alone than Stone's five children put together.” Mrs. Turmoyle, being a woman of sense, did not continue the argument, but mentally resolved to see Mrs. Stone the next day, and talk with her about the wonderful secret of having five children and a quiet home. “I am sure I can't do it!” the gentle, loving mother thought, with a sigh. Seated, the next morning, in close conversation, the ladies presented a contrast as marked as the atmosphere of their own houses. The tiny, blue-eyed woman, who had no heart to suppress Tom's merry whistle or Bessie's silvery laugh, had left a home where constant care only secured cleanliness, and where childish disorder was manifest everywhere but in the best parlor. She looked at the tall, dark-haired woman before her, noted the exquisite morning dress, faced with light silk, spotless and unrumpled, and thought regretfully, of the marks of ten chubby fingers upon her own, printed there when her own boy baby, her darling Mark, had succeeded in forcing a piece of his sweetest candy into mamma's mouth. She noted the dainty odor of the sitting room, where every chair stood primly in its appointed place, and not even a thread rested upon the carpet, and remembered Mark's stable for his “spress cart” and horses under the lounge, and Bessie keeping house on the lower shelf of the book-case. Visions haunted her also of snippings of paper, bits of string, and odds and ends of doll's finery upon the table. Drifting from one scrap of matronly talk to another, the ladies came naturally to the care and management of children, and Mrs. Turmoyle complimented her neighbor upon the appearance of her house and the proficiency of her little ones. “I cannot understand how you accomplish it,” she said, frankly. “By system,” was the reply. “The education of my children begins, I may say, in their cradles. As soon as they can walk, they have their own proper place in the room, and are trained to perfect silence when older persons are present.” Mrs. Turmoyle thought of the noisy chorus of shouts, the eager recital of the day's pleasures or accidents, that greeted papa, aunties or uncles in her own nursery, and wondered if Tom, Bessie, and Mark could be trained to sit in one place for hours at a time. “At two years of age I teach my children their letters, and after that they are sent to school. All of them were entered at three years of age at a private school, and at five at a public one. In the interval of school hours my boys have geographical puzzles, spelling games and problems, and my girls are taught sewing.” “Their games and puzzles are sufficient for the boys, and I allow the girls to cut and fit clothing for a large wax doll.” “But do they not have any hours for running, balls, kites, and other out-door play?” “I disapprove entirely of out-door play. It ruins clothes and makes children rude. They have out-door exercise in their long walk to and from school.” As she spoke, the hall-door opened quietly, and a full of footsteps crossed the hall to the sitting-room. Five children, three girls and two boys, came in with languid footsteps and pale faces, from which all childishness seemed stricken. Spotlessly clean, with shiny hair and polished boots, they followed in orderly fashion the lead of the eldest, who stood before his mother, waiting for permission to speak. “Well, my son?” she said quietly. “There is no school this afternoon. The senior class is to be examined,” he said, wearily. “No school! Very well. I will set you some sums after dinner, and find you some words to study in the dictionary.” Silently the five sat down until the visitor departed, uncomfortably conscious of ten weary eyes and five pallid, pinched faces. Crossing her own doorway, Mrs. Turmoyle was greeted by a merry duet:— “Won't you make some bobs for my kite, mamma? There's a splendid wind!” Followed by a sweet soprano, “And, O mamma, you promised the first holiday you would trim my doll's bonnet.” “I 'ant a kite, too!” struck in Mark. “Oh, let me get my breath!” cried the little woman. “Where's your hat, Tom?” “Oh, I forgot,” Tom said, sweeping it off with a profound bow. “Here, take this chair. And let me take your bonnet and sacque upstairs. You are tired. Never mind bobs, if you are very tired.” “I'll help make them,” said Bessie; “and I'll go and watch Tom, mamma, if you don't feel like making the bonnet.” “We'll see after dinner,” said Mrs. Turmoyle, looking from one round, rosy face to the other, marking the sturdy limbs and dancing eyes. To be sure, the hair of all three must be reduced from a state of rebellion before they were presentable at table, and soap and water were pleasant suggestions in the maternal eyes. There was perfect health and happiness, if the voices were shrill and the boots noisy. “I've been to see Mrs. Stone,” she said, when, washed and combed, her children gathered around her to wait for papa and dinner, “and I wondered if I could ever make my children as quiet and orderly as hers are.” “Willie Stone,” said Tom, contemptuously, is “always crying because his head aches. He can't play anything, and doesn't move for fear of spoiling his clothes. Wouldn't play foot-ball for fear he would get dust on his boots. There's a nice boy for you! He might as well be a girl at once.” “And, mother, the teacher had to write a note to Mrs. Stone the day that John Gray spilled the ink on Maud's apron. She was so afraid to go home, it was awful. She said her mother would whip her, and keep her upon bread and water for a whole day. Mrs. Lee told her to say it wasn't her fault, but she said her mother would not believe her.” “Dinner, and here comes papa!” cried Tom. Mr. Turmoyle came in with a grave face. He made no comment on the holiday, but stooped to kiss the rosy faces with unwonted tenderness. After dinner he sent the children to the nursery, and said to his wife, who had anxiously watched his clouded face:— “Tillie, I met Dr. Holmes on my way home, and he tells me there have been three cases of scarlet fever from the school. It is raging fearfully, he says.” Mrs. Turmoyle turned very pale. “In the school?” she murmured. “Well, among the scholars.” There was little more to say, but the heart of each parent sent up a petition to a kind heavenly Father to keep the plague from their door. Yet it came. A week later Mark sickened, and in three days all were down. Tenderest nursing, loving care and unexpected docility of patients brought the little Turmoyles safely out upon the road to health again. The day the children assembled in the sitting-room for the first time was a gala day, but papa was observed to have a sad face. “While we are thankful, dear children,” he said, “for our blessings, let us not forget to sympathize with the sorrows of others. Willie and Maud Stone were buried to-day, and Amy will be deaf for life. The others are still very ill.” At bed-time when the children slept the sleep of convalescence, Mr. Turmoyle came to the nursery, where his little wife was laying out the morning clothing. “Tillie” he said, drawing the little woman close in his strong arms, “I had a long talk with Dr. Holmes to-day, and I cannot rest till I thank you for our unbroken nursery to-night. Next to God, you saved the children.” “I am sure you never spared yourself in nursing,” said Mrs. Turmoyle. “The nursing was the smallest part of it. Dr. Holmes says it was not the scarlet fever that killed Stone's children, but their mother's 'system.' The fever found over-taxed brains, bodies weakened by want of exercise, tempers made sullen by a deprivation of all childish pleasure. They were nursed by 'system,' no allowance made for suffering or weakness; and two that are gone but precede the two now dangerously ill. If they recover from the fever, they will never reach maturity unless the mother sees the error. You may thank your wife's management for your own children,' the doctor said to me; 'there was something to build on in the sturdy frames of those young savages.'” Mrs. Stone could see no fault in her system, though two little graves attested its weakness. Her children recovering from the fever, found no relaxation of home rule, and pale and dull-eyed, went back to the old routine. Four years passed away, and Tom left home for boarding-school, a gentlemanly boy of sixteen, well up in his studies and in perfect health. Driving home from the station, after starting him upon his journey, Mr. and Mrs. Turmoyle passed Mr. Stone's handsome house, prim and spotless, the garden a miracle of order, and no signs of busy little feet on walk or border. “Poor Stone!” said Mr. Turmoyle, “he frets sadly for Amy.” “It was hard to lose her, the last of five,” said Mrs. Turmoyle; “and she was such a patient child, after she had lost her hearing.” “Too patient! There will be no need of any system of training. Five children all under the sod! O Tillie! Thank God we have not such a home as the one we have just passed. Thank God for merry voices, clear laughter, noisy feet, and even the crying of our baby May. May He guard and bless our little ones, and give them good health, good principles and happiness, rather than give us the doubtful blessings of a quiet home.” How do we know what hearts have vilest sin?
How do we know?
Many, like sepulchers, are foul within
Whose outward garb is spotless as the snow,
And many may be pure we think not so.
How near to God the souls of such have been,
What mercy secret penitence may win—
How do we know? How can we tell who hath sinned more than we?
How can we tell?
We think our brother hath walked guiltily,
Judging him in self-righteousness. Ah, well!
Perhaps, had we been driven through the hell
Of his untold temptations, we might be
Less upright in our daily walk than he—
How can we tell? Dare we condemn the ills that others do?
Dare we condemn?
Their strength is small, their trials not a few,
The tide of wrong is difficult to stem.
And if to us more clearly than to them
If given knowledge of good and true,
More do they need our help, and pity, too—
Dare we condemn? God help us all and lead us day by day.
God help us all!
We cannot walk alone the perfect way,
Evil allures us, tempts us, and we fall.
We are but human and our power is small;
Not one of us may boast, and not a day
Rolls o'er our heads but each hath need to say,
God bless us all. The Fruits of Ancestral Merit
Those who depend on the merits of their ancestors, search in the roots of the tree for fruits which the branches should produce. -The President is in Washington. -Forty thousand men are under arms in Greece. -Cyrus W. Field anticipates a visit to this coast shortly. -There are 96 deaf-mute schools in the German Empire. -A pan-Lutheran Council at Wittenberg, is now suggested. -The population of Texas has more than doubled since 1870. -A company has been organized to build a railroad from Chicago to the City of Mexico direct. -The New York Elevated Railroads carried, in the year ending September 18, 60,386,073 passengers. -This country annually pays to foreign ship-owners the sum of $70,000,000 for doing its carrying trade. -The well-remembered Pittsburg riots cost the country, in compromising and settling them, $2,489,737.97. -An observatory for the study of volcanology has been erected at the base of the central cone of Mount Etna. -Potato brandy, used greatly in some parts of Switzerland, is said to be nearly as poisonous as absinthe. -The number of lives lost by steamboat accidents during the fiscal year of 1880 was 185. Last year it was 177. -According to the best authorities, the population of the globe increases at the rate of nearly 1,000,000 per month. -The number of women attending medical lectures in Russia was 130 in 1876, since which time it has steadily decreased. -During the ten years from June 30, 1870, to June 30, 1880, the number of immigrants landing in this country was 2,811,677. -The Queen of Italy has presented the Italian Roman Catholic Church of Boston with a bronze statuette of Augustus Cæsar. -One hundred and eighty-six British and foreign wrecks were reported last week. Of these, 161 vessels were lost on the British coast. -A verbatim report of all the essays and debates upon the occasion of the recent pan-Presbyterian Council, is shortly to be published. -The steamer Rhode Island went ashore on a point of the Narragansett bay, Nov. 6. The vessel was a total wreck, but no lives were lost. -Sixteen young women have just graduated from the Training School for Nurses established by the Department of Public Charities and Correction. -President Grevy, of the French Republic, has $120,000 salary, and $60,000 allowances in addition. He spends it all in receptions and subscriptions. -The growth of Catholicism in the United States is said to be creating a current feeling in favor of State and church union as a safe-guard against Catholicism. -A dispatch from Berlin says that 10,000 troops have concentrated at Khaborovka, on the Russian shore of the Pacific, in view of a possible war with China. -The Senate of France, by a vote of 254 majority, has passed a bill making the study of agriculture obligatory upon the children in their elementary schools. -The Spanish government has resolved to proceed against all priests who introduce politics into their sermons, and to dismiss all mayors who are notorious Carlists. -Another terrific hurricane, accompanied by a blinding snowstorm, passed over Denmark, Nov. 1. The railways were blocked, and a score of wrecks are reported. -The course of the British Government in relation to the Land League is opposed by all parties. The Daily Express, discussing the subject, says: "If the Government plays with this matter for another six months, there will be an armed rising." -The Sioux have granted the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul Railroad Company the right of way through their Territory. One hundred dollars per mile is paid, and four dollars per acre for station ground, not exceeding 160 acres per station. -The Mormons send more missionaries out of Utah than Christian churches send into that Territory. Seventeen Mormon elders recently left Utah for Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, and other Southern States, to make converts and secure Mormon immigrants to Colorado. -The agitation against the religious decrees is increasing. Several magistrates have resigned in consequence of the decrees. In Marseilles, 1500 leading merchants have signed a protest against the expulsion of the religious congregations from Spain. -The Jewish Messenger says that a hundred well-to-do heads of Jewish families in Roumania, have petitioned the Alliance Israelite to purchase land for them in Palestine, where they may found an agricultural colony; they offer to contribute 400 francs each, and to pay the balance in annual instalments. -The latest mail from China brings reports of the most serious outbreak at Canton that has been recorded for years. For some time, a bitter jealousy has been growing between the native Cantonese and the Hakka stone-dressers, and other classes of workmen from other parts. The immediate cause of the present trouble was a fire in the stone-cutting works, supposed to have been set by the Cantonese. A large number of men were seriously wounded. -Specials from London state that the Queen has requested Gladstone to apply to Parliament at its next session, for a grant of £40,000 to help the Prince of Wales pay pressing debts. Gladstone objects to this, and says that if any such grant is to be requested, it should be done by the Queen herself. -Last Thursday evening, at about quarter of eight, the residents of Oakland were startled by quite a severe earthquake shock, which lasted about five seconds. The motion was of an undulating nature, taking a direction of from east to west. About five minutes a second and lighter shock was felt. -For the past three months there has been an average of about two cases of small-pox per week reported in San Francisco. One week ago last Monday, sixteen cases were reported. Since then, it has assumed the form of an epidemic, and is creating great excitement. During the week, over fifty cases have been reported. It is also spreading somewhat in Alameda. -News is received from the west coast of Africa of the death of Chaca, Governor of the Whydahs. His funeral was to be celebrated by a massacre of natives, after which the king had announced his intention of holding an annual celebration in memory of his father. The celebration will last four months, during which 200 captured chiefs will be beheaded. The English have refused to go to the celebration. -The Scientific American urges the adoption of the telephone on the battle-field as a means of conveying information, and transmitting orders rapidly and accurately, without exposing the General in command to the fire of the enemy, and thus imperiling not only his own life, but possibly the ultimate result of the campaign. Of course, special modifications are necessary to render the telephone available for such use, but these are quite within the power of the inventor and mechanician. -Parnell, the leader of the Irish Land League, has been indicted. In a recent speech in Limmerick, he is reported to have said that "Parliament would not reduce rents, but when farmers had reduced them, Parliament would interfere and render the continuation of the agitation useless. They had got rid of the great proprietors in France, Prussia, and Belgium; why not in Ireland? He advised the people to offer a just rent to the proprietors, as then the question might be settled this winter." -It is stated that the German Government has just decided that the treaty of 1868 with the United States, shall not be recognized as affecting Alsace and Lorraine, and that naturalized citizens of the United States residing in the new German provinces, shall be subject not only to military duty, but shall be fined and imprisoned for non-service. One naturalized American citizen has been already arrested, and is now in prison. The German Government proposes not to give him up. A strong feeling is being manifested about the matter, but our Legation at Berlin is powerless. -The Oakland Times, Nov. 8, contains the following: "Our nation is singularly blessed at this time, in contrast with other countries. All is peaceful and prosperous here, while in Europe revolt and war and revolution are harrassing all the nations with actual evils, or with the anxious anticipation of evils impending. In Ireland they seem to be on the verge of a social war; in France attempted religious repression fills the mind of men on either side with fury; social revolt smoulders in Germany; around the difficult knot of the Eastern question all the Powers are at swords' points with a common foe or with one another, while England's troubles in Africa and Asia are once more thorns in her side. There all is turmoil and stormy uncertainty; here all is tranquility and prosperity; and while the ruler of one of the greatest nations is almost besieged in his palace and trembling for fear of assassination, the American President has just passed from land's end to land's end without the attendance of a single gendarme or bayonet." -The certificate of incorporation of "the New York Under-ground Railroad Co." has been filed in the County Clerk's office, and it is announced that within two or three years, rapid transit trips will be made from South Ferry to Central Park, through a tunnel under Broadway. Excavation will commence sometime during the present month. It is said that Gen. McClellan is to be the president of the company. The road will be built with two single-track tunnels, at an average of 25 ft. 6 in. underground, each 15 ft. 6 in. high, and separated by a brick wall. Large 60-ton locomotives will be used. They will burn coke, and consume their own smoke. The exhaust steam will be condensed, and nothing will escape to vitiate the atmosphere of the tunnel but a little gas. It is proposed to light them, as well as the tunnel itself, with electricity. An electric machine will be placed on each engine to run the headlight and the candles in the cars. At the principal stations air-shafts will rise up 75 ft., and other openings will be made at frequent intervals. Through these, air will be introduced by artificial means. The underground stations will, as a rule, be under street corners, and will be entered through the business blocks or other buildings there. HEALTH AND TEMPERANCE PUBLICATIONS.
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