The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, September 12, 1888, Image 1
The Abbeville Press andBamS
BY HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1888. VOLUME XXXIII. NO. 18.||f||
After the Battle.
It was after the iliti of Mm buttle
Had ceased in the silence and gloom.
When hushed was the musketry's rattle,
And quiet the wuinnn'o deep boom.
The smoke of the conlliet had lifted.
And drifted away from the sun,
While the soft crimson light, slowly lading
from eight.
Flashed back from each motionless gun.
The tremulous notes of a bugle
Kang out on the clear autumn air.
And echoes caught back from the mountaius
Faint whispers, like breathings of prayer,
The arrows of sunlight that slantwd
Through the trees touched a brow white as
snow,
On the bloody sob lying'mid the dead and
the dying.
And it flushed in the last parting glow
The dark, crimson tide slowly ebbing,
Stained red the light Jacket of gray;
But another in blue, sadly knelt by his side
And watched the life passincr away.
Said the jacket in gray : "I've a brotherJoe
Turner, he lives up in Maine,
Give him these, and say my last message
Was forgiveness." Here a low moan of
pain
Checked his voice. Then: "You'll do me
this favor.
For you shot meand his whispers sank
low.
Bald the jaoket in blue, "Brother Charley.
There's no need, I'm your brother, I'm Joe.'
Laws of Healtb.
A knowledge of the laws of heath,
ancl their practice, cannot be learned
ail at once, but only progressively?the
same as we learn a trade, an art, or a
science?by observation, study, and experience.
The human constitution has its laws
of order, as definite and certain as
those of astronomy ; yet, they are even
more difficult to learn; for the human
constitution is the most complex and
perfect of all created existence. Hence,
what we can here say is only suggestive-and
fragmentary.
Cheerei'lxkss?and good will are
of the first importance to human
health. Therefore take the generous
side. Study benevolence and the welfare
of others for earth's sake as well
as for heaven. He whose tendencies
are all centrifugal or outward can hardly
be sick.
Sunlight?is as essential to animal
as vegetable life. A celebrated physician
says, the number of patients cured
in hospital rooms exposed to the rays
of the sun, were four times sis great as
those confined in darkened rooms.
Fresh Air. The air is the only
agent which keeps the blood pure and
enables it to circulate and impart life
power to me system, it no less sustains
life, by imparting this wonderful
property to the blood, than by expelling
the impurities or worn-out matter
which the veins have collected and
brought to the lungs for expulsion, and
which if left in the system but a few
moments, would cause death.
. .Exercise?is best if taken in some
employment for an object. Begin and
end slowly. It is well to carry out our
exercise to the point of fatigue if the
systemsoon rallies from it; but for ,
health no greater fatigue should be incurred
than a night's rest will remove.
To sleep well and gain strength, the
body must be fatigued.
Food. A free use of palatable fruit
is essential. We must learn to distinguish
between a real appetite and a i
mere superficial taste. The taste of
sugar, for instance, may be agreeable
when there is no real need or appetite
for it.
Take few varieties of food at one
meal. It is well now and then to omit
by turns the use of every article of
food?even bread, thus preventing the
system from becoming tied to aoy injurious
routine. It would not be amiss i
to make an occasional meal of some
palatable fruit or vegetable, in its season,
when best relished.
Water. An abundant supply and
free use of pure, soft water is essential
to health. Water is the only fluid capable
of circulating in all the tissues of
the body, and penetrating its finest
vessels without irritation or injury.
No other liquid than water can dissolve
the various articles of food taken
into the stomach. It is water alone
which forms all the fluid portions of
the blood, and thus serves to convey
the nutriment to all parts of the body
for its growth and replenishment.
And it is water which takes up the
decaying particles, and conveys them,
by a most complicated and wonderful
system of drainage, altogether from
the body. When good soft water cank/\
niriA/1 o uino 11
JL1UL UIUU1 nicc wv VUIUIUCVI, u ouuMii vuvlay
for cistern and filter will secure an
abundant supply of rain water, equal
to any.
Bathing. Much cold bathing exhausts
vitality. Much warm bathing
produces undue relaxation and sensitiveness.
Hence, to secure the best results,
avoid these extremes. The temperature
of the water and surrounding
air should be such as to allow a bath to
be taken deliberately. VVi th these conditions,
and n moderately coarse towel,
a yard in length, to apply the water,
a very thorough bath may be taken.
The towel bath aflbrds excellent exercise
for those engaged in sedentary employments.
Opeu-Air >raps.
A youiig mouier was reprovcu uui
long ago fur putting her children to
sleep in the open air when they took
their day-time naps. The little twoyear-old
was laid in a sailor's hammock
swung ou the piazza or under
the trees, and the month-old baby was
rolled in ' her carriage into the shade
and there left to sleep. Both children
were amply protected by nettings
from disturbance from in.sects, and
their eyes were shielded from excess of
light.
The reprover was evidently not up
with the times. When her babies
were put to sleep, fifty or sixty years
ago, they were taken into a room
where shutters were closed and every"
thing was close and still and dark. Of
course, she thought that was the right
way, and she thinks so still; but she j
was and is mistaken. Open-air naps
are right?that is, in healthful Ioeali- j
ties. The nearer we get to nature the |
more robust and normal we are. It
agrees with most people to sleep on the
ground, if it is dry, on a bed soft
enough for comfort. Tent-life agrees j
with most people. It is good for chil- j
dren to play on the ground, in the
open-air, to go barefoot part of the ,
time, to make dirt pies, to wade in the .
brook, to wander in the woods, to get
1 -"-1 J l,.,nn.,r All
uniw 11 anu uieu aiiu uuugij. mi
this is wholesome during warm
weather. Children who are thus
habituated to open-air life lay up a
fund of health to draw from when the
winter days come that rightly confine
them much of their time in-doors.
Even in winter many, perhaps
most, children could be out-of-doors
far more than they are with decided
advantage. Shut up in steam-beated
or furnace-heated or stove-heated
rooms, they imbibe seeds of disease
that ripen and produce "delicacy,"
disease, and death. J
The greatest kindness that can be
shown to children in the country in
summer time is to dress them in such
a manner that they can enjoy unlimited
fun in the open air, climbing trees,
berrying, having picnics, and living as
far as possible from under a roof and
outside the four walls of a house.
T.<*nrninjr tn Hnwl.
It is an old Spanish proverb, we believe.
"He who lives with wolves will ?
soon learn to howl." He who lives
with the faults of his friends, and
counts tliem over and sorts them and
weighs them and measures them, wilJ 1
soon have equality grave ones of his 11
own, which his friends will be sure to *
see, and which will make him posi- .
tively unable to cure them. There is |
nothing that so deteriorates character
as this undue looking after faults and ^
blemishes in others while we are blind ^
to our own. We may abhor meanness a
and stinginess in our neighbor, and be v
able to give a hundred reasons why *
he should give away more in charity, 6
and see a thousands little things iudi- ^
eating his smallness of soul, and at c
the same time we may be so engrossed
with one phase of meanness in our- r
selves. We may abhor untruth so 1
vehemently in some one else that we ^
shall forget to hate impurity in our- r
qftk-PK. W? mav disnise our neighbor ^
for his sharpness aud trickery, and F
spread over our own slackness aud c
idleness aud shiftlessuess the coverlet f
of, "Thank God, I'm not a sharper!" 1
The idle, thriftless man can never re- ;
form the over-shrewd speculator; the 11
impure man can never lift the untruthful
man out of the bog ; the gossip
is not fit to cure the miser of his
relfishness. There is only one way,
after all, to reform the world. Not by 11
learning to howl at its faults, or to a
bark at its mistakes, but first to begin a
the work of reformation with our- jeelVes.
We come back inevitably to 1
the old truth so often before stated : c
'In order to make the best of others, F
we must first make the best of our- r
selves."?Qoldcn Rule. *
Cinders in the Eye.
o
Nine persons out of every ten with j
a cinder or any other loreign sub- j
stance in the eye will iustantly begin g
to rub the eye with one hand while v
hunting for their handkerchief with j]
the other. They may, and sometimee f,
do, remove the offending cinder, but i.
more frequently tliey rub till the ^
eye becomes inflamed, bind a liandker- \\
chief around the head, and go to bed. [\
This is all wrong. The better way is v
not to rub the eye with the cinder in n
it all, but rub the other eye as vigor- e
onsly as you like. A few years since
I was riding on an engine of the fast a
express from Iiiughampton to Corn- v
ing. The engineer, an old school- t
mate of mine, threw open the front ii
window, and I caught a cinder that g
gave me excruciating pain. I began y
to rub the eye with both hands. "Let t<
your eye alone, and rub the other eye" b
(thisfrom the engineer.) I thought u
be was chairing me, and worked the u
harder. "I know you doctors think c
you know it all; but if you will let r
that eye alone and rub the other ij
one the cinder will be out f;
two miutes," persisted the engineer, t
I began to rub the other eye, and soon a
I felt the cinder down near the inner 0
canthus, and made ready to take it i
out. "Let it aloue and keep at the a
well eye," shouted the doctor pro teiu. (]
I did so for a minute longer, and look- u
ing in a small glass he gave me found
the otfeudiug cinder on my cheek.
Siuce then I have tried it many times,
and have advised many others and
have never known it to fail in one iustance
(unless it was, as sharp as a o
piece of steel, or something that cuts t
into the ball and required an opera- t
tion to remove it.) Why it is so I do t
not know, and that oue may be saved t
much suffering if one will let the in- a
jured eye alone and rub the well eye. t
Try it. a
s
The happiness of your life depends
upon the uuallity of your thoughts;
therefore, guard accordingly, and take t
cure that you entertain nohtingunsuitable
to virtue and unreasonable to na- ^
ture.
Ripeness in Character.
Rev. Chrles H. Spurgeon beautifully
illustrates the marks of ripeness in
Christian character somewhat, as follows
: One mark in beauty. Ripe
fruit has its own perfect beauty. As
the fruit ripens, the sun tints it with
surpassing loveliness, and the colors]
leepen till the beauty of the fruit is
jqal to the beauty of the blossom, and
11 some respects superior. There is
n ripe Christians the beauty of
ealized sanctification, which the
Word of God knows by the name of
'beauty of holiness."
Auother mark of ripe fruit is tenderless.
The youug, green fruit is hard
md stone-like; but the ripe fruit is
10ft, yields to the presssure, can alnost
be moulded, retains the mark of
he finger. So it is with the mature
Jhristian ; he is noted for tenderness
>f spirit.
Another mark of ripeness is sweetless.
The unripe fruit is sour, and
perhaps it ought to be, or else we
ihould eat all the fruits while they are
ret green. It may, therefore be in the
)rder of grace a fit thing that in the
,'outhful Christian some sharpness
ihould be formed which will ultimatey
be removed. Ay we grow in grace
ve are sure to grow in charity, sympahy,
and love ; we shall have greater
ind more intense affection for the peron
of Him "whom having not seen,
ve lpve;" we shall hsve greater deight
in the precious things of His
;ospel; the doctrines which perhaps we
lid not understand at first will become
narrow and fatness to us as we adduce
in grace. We shall feel that
here is honey dropping from the honycomb
in the deep things of our reigion.
We shall, as we ripen in grace,
lave greater sweetness toward our felow
Christians. Bitter-spirited Chrisians
may know a great deal, but they
re immature. Those who are quick
ii mnv ha -\rnr\7 onnto 111 iiiHcy.
W V'V'WUl?&V IAJMJ WV T V* J UVUbV iU J WMf,
ueut, but they are as yet immature
ii heart. I know we who are young
eginuers in grace think ourselves
[ualitied to reform the whole Chrisian
church. We drag her before us
,nd condemn her straightway; but
vhen our virtues become more mature
trust we shall not be more tolerant of
vil, but we shall be more people of
Jod, and certainly less arrogant in our
riticisms.
Another, and a very sure mark of
ipeness, is a loose hold of earth,
lipe fruit easily parts form the
lough. You shake the tree and the
Ipe apples fall. If you wish to eat
resh fruit, you put out your hand to
luck it, and if it comes off with diffulty
you feel you had better leave it
lone a little longer; but when it drops
nto your hand, quite ready to be
withdrawn from the branch, you know
t to be in good condition.
Accuracy.
Sir Stafford Northcote, who of all
rten was distinguished for accuracy
ud precision of statement, in a letter
ddressed to a literary society of which
le was President spoke of accuracy
u a passage which we quote. Bo
nauy of us need a reminder on this
loint, that we recommend to our girl
eaders especially, the consideration of
he British stateman's advice :
"I need not point out to you that if
t be a virtue of so great excellence as
suppose it, we are all of us bound in
ur daily life to strive to attain it.
Lnd first I would ask you, Does not
fature herself point out to us how
ood a thing it is, by the pleasure
rliicn tne consciousness 01 it awanens
ti our minds ? However we may proess
to undervalue it, yet when we
lave executed some work, be it of the
land or of the brain, and find that
t fits iuall its parts, and that it fits
ts place, we feel a certain satisfaction,
phich is nothing else than a testiaony
borne by our inner selves to the
xcellence of accuracy.
"On the other hand, consider how
n inaccurate person provokes us, how
^e long to correct his mistakes, how
iresome we think him when by some
correct statement he misleads us and
ives us the trouble of following up a
rild goose-chase, or of setting to work
o rectify the consequences of his
lunder. Even in trifling matters we,
ipon the whole, prefer the accurate
an. The man who can tell his story
orrectly with the right names and the
ight facts, is a far pleasanter man to
isten to than our friend who mixes up
acts aud confuses names and forgets
be point of half his auecdotcs. True,
11 accurate man may be a bore if he
verdoes us with accuracy; but an
micturate man may be, an<l often is,
t least as great a bore, with the adlitional
disadvantage of being less
iseful."
"I Can't go in With Them."
"I have read," said Spurgeon, "of
aie who dreamed a dream in great disress
of mind about religion. He
bought he stood in the outer court of
leaven, and he saw a glorious host
uarching up, singing sweet hymns
iud bearing the banners of victory,
hey passed by him through the gate,
md he heard in the distance sweet
trains of music."
"Who are they ?" he asked.
"They are the goodly fellowship of
he prophets, who have gone to be
vith God."
"He heaved a deep sigh as he said,
'Alius!'I am not one of them, ami
never shall l?e, and r cannot enter
there."
"By and by there came another
band, equally lovely in appearance,
and equally triumphant, robed iu
white. They passeed within the portals,
and again were shouts of welcome
heard.
"They are the goodly fellowship of
the apostles."
"Alas!" he said, 'I belong not to
that fellowship, and T cannot enter
there.'
"He still waited and lingered in the
hope that he might yet go in ; but the
next multitude did not encourage him,
for they were the noble army of martyrs.
He could not go with them or
wave their palm branches. He waited
still, and saw that the neyt was acomr>nni7
nf trnnrllv minintprs and offlo.ei'S
? ? ~"%J
of Christian churches; but he could
not go with them. At Jast, as he
walked, he saw a host larger than all
the rest put together, marching and
singing most melodiously; and in
front walked the woman that was a
sinner and the thief that died upon
the cross. He looked long, and saw
there Manasseh and the like; and
when they entered, he could see who
they were, and he thought. There will
be no shouting about. them.' But to
his astonishment it seemed as if all
heaven was rent with sevenfold shouts
as they passed in. And the angels
said to him,'These are they that are
mighty sinners, saved by mighty
grace.' And then he said, 'Blessed be
God! I can go in with them. And so
he awoke."
An Uufortunate Interruption.
Willie was asleep and Dan was lone-'
ly. Willie is the minister's son, and
jjan is his aog. it was ouuuay uauruing,
and every one was at church but
these two friends. It was warm and
sunny, and they could plainly hear
the good minister preaching, for their
house was next door to the church.
"Dan," said Willie, "it is better here
than in the church, for you can hear
every word, and don't get prickles
down your back, as you do when you
have to sit up straight."
In some way, while Willie was
listening and watching the dusty motes
es riding on sunbeam*, he fell asleep.
Dan kissed him on the nose several
times, but when Willie went to sleep
he weut to sleep to stay, and didn't
mind trifles. So Dan gave it up at
last. He sat down with the funniest
look of care on his wise, black face,
and with one ear ready for outside
noises.
Now the minister had for his sub
ject this morning, "Daniel." Alas,
this was the name he always gave
Dan when he was teaching him to sit
up and beg, and other tricks. While
the dog sat thinking, the name "Daniel"
fell on hiB ready ear. Dan at
once jumped down and ran into the
church through the vestry door. He
stood on his hind legs, with his forepaws
meekly dropping, close beside
the minister, who did not see him, but
the congregation did. When the
minister shouted "Daniel," again two
sharp soprano barks said "Yes, sir,"
as plainly as Dan could answer.
The minister started back, looked
around, and saw the funny little picture
; then he coughed and wondered
what he should do next; but just then
through the vestry came Willie. His
face rose from sleep, and he looked a
little frightened, ile warned straignt
toward his father, and took Dan iu his
arms, and said : "Please 'scuse Dan,
papa. I went to sleep and he runned
away." Then he walked out again
with Dau, looking back at the smiling
congregation. The minister ended
his serman on Daniel as best he
could, but then he made a resolve if he
ever preached about the prophet Daniel
again he would remember to tie up
his little black-aud-tan namesak.?
L. E. Chittender, in Our LitUe Ones.
+
Hard and Soft Water in Cooking.
All cooks do not understand the different
effects produced by hard and
soft water in cooking meat and vegetables.
Peas and beans cooked in hard
water, containing lime and gypsum
will not boil tender, because these substances
harden vegetable caseiue.
Many vegetables as onions, boil nearly
tasteless in soft water, because all
the flavor is boiled out. The addition
oolf nf tan r>ho/>lro this nfi in t.hfi fiflSG
Ui OH1U VI bVU VUWuv MW _
of onions; causing the vegetable to
retain the peculiar flavoring principles,
besides such nutrious matter as might
be lost in soft water. For extracting
the juice of meat to make a broth or
soup, soft water, unsalted and cold at
first, is the best, for it much more
readily penetrates the tissue; but for
boiling where the juices should be retained
hard water or soft water salted
is preferable, and the meat should be
put in while the water is boiling, so as
to seal up the pores at one.?Journal
of Chemistry.
It is a new idea to most persons that
edge-tools not infrequently become
what artisans term "tired," and will
not hold a keen edge uutil they have
a rest. This is the statement of carpenters,
barbers, and wood-choppers.
Locomotive engineers notice something
akin to this in their engines. It
is probable that constant and hard
usage causes changes in the crystilli/.ation
that may account for this pecuiarity
in inanimate thin gs.
Don't Yoii Play t
"2>o, I don't play on any instrument,"
aaitl onr friend, Tom Cringle,
in answer to our question. "To tell
the truth, I became discouraged by a
slight misconception when I was a
young man. I wasn't appreciated,
you know, and all that sort of thing."
"Well, you see," said he, in reply to
another question, "it was about twenty
years ago, when I was studying law,
and my brother was a medical student,
and we both fancied we had a
I ?i*/\n/lat?Pii1 tolnnf fni? tv>11di/i fin Tnlltl
VrUilUCAlUl UUVlll 1\/J UiU0t\? U'/ VWUM
bought a-flute and I a fiddle, and turning
one of (he attic? into a study, we
practiced there half the night
through. We didn't want any one to
know about it, especially our father,
who had very strict notions as to the
value of time; and to make him think
us usefully employed, I had quantities
of law-books heaped up, and John had
a skull and all sorts of bones scattered
about. We knew that up in our study
no one could hear us but Betsey,
the housekeeper, and as she was our
old nurse we felt sure she would keep
our secret. One morning, after we
had been whiling the long hours away
to our own mutual delight, we f^ame
down late to breakftist, looking, I suppose,
somewhat unrefreshed.
"You mustn't 9tudy too hard, boys,"
said our father considerately,
"Yes, sir," said I, gravely.
Just then Betsey appeared at the
door, and looked mysteriously at my
mother.
"Yes, what is it?" said mother, surnrised
at Betsev's excited manner.
one to do so."
And Betsey gave my brother a|
look of withering condemnation.
My mother was acute enough to see
that something unusual was going on
in our study, and telling her she would
inquire into it, she dismissed her for
the present.
"That was the end of our musical
practice, though not the end of our
story, for our father took care we
I should not forget it. It was a long
time before we heard the last about
"that poor cretur up-stairs."
*
Such a Bother to get Them Keady.
"If they could only dress themselves,
I should not mind ; but what
with getting the last of them fairly
off, and picking up after they are
gone, it seems to take the best part of
the day right off."
Exactly. But what if the shoes had
been blacked the night before, and
the bath-room had been made good
use of Saturday, rather than Sunday ?
What if, when the clothes of the week
were laid off, they had been placed
carefull to one side, and the Sunday
Ones laid in their stead? What if the
lesson-books had been hunted up and
placed by the Sunday caps, ready the
night before? What if cold meat had
taken place of breakfast chicken, aud
the time gained given to hair brushing
| and necktie tying, rather that attention
to those things later?
"But they get themselves so dirty if
dressed so early."
Teach them for one day in seven to
keep out of the dirt.
"Their father don't like to have it
all bustle aud commotion Saturday
night; it's ail tUe nignt ne nas, out 01
the week.
The Lord don't like all bustle and
commotion Sunday ; it's all the day he
has, out of the week.
"But if the children are to be kept
dressed up all day, what are we to do
with those who are too small to read
for themselves ?"
You are to read to them, talk to
them. You are to set their little
minds to think about the thousand
and one things they have little incliuution
for when about their play.
The blue sky above them and green
fields near them, and God, in his great
Fatherhood, around and about them.
You are to garnish t Ills, the best day
of the week, with the sweetest smiles
you have, the kindest words aud
most loving acts, and to encourage
such things in your children. More
tlmu any other day of the week you
are to make the Sabbath truly useful
and peaceful and enjoyable, so that
your children iu after jears shall look
back upon Ihe Sabbath of their childhood
as travelers look back upon the
green oasis they have passed in the
i sandy deserr. Keep that day as free as
possible from the hurry and bustle
which belong, by right,to the week;
and then hardly noticeable will be
the preparations needed in ordor that
your children shall go forth prepared,
both in mind and body, for the Hunday-school.
"Old Tom Smith."
'Who was that man who called
here to-day ?" asked a gentleman of
his wife.
"Oh, that was old Tom Smith," was
the reply.
And the little boy, who was playing,
in the room, caught up the words and
continued repeating, "Old Tom
'What is it, Betsey ?'
"Well, ma'am,, I wish to say,
ma'am,'?Betsey always spoke in that
short, nipping way, when she was
what she called 'worked up,'?'I must
leare you, ma'am.'
(tr ao if a T ii/hr 91' HIV
JLJTZCk k ^ IUV ?? ?JJ ...j
mother. <
"Yes, ma'am ; it's twenty-Jive years
that I've beeu with you, ma'am?and
it's the boys at last, ma'am. I can't
stand it, and I ain't going to. It's not
Christian-like, ma'am."
"What have the hoys been doing?'
asked mother.
"Its Mr. John, ma'am and sometimes
I think Mr. Tom helps him.
He's got some poor cretur up-stairs,
ma'am, and he torments him awful.
He shrieks and groans all the night
through. It is worse than the heathen
; I've stood it for more than a week.
I did't get a wink of sleep last night,
and what the poor cretur went
through was dreadful.- I know they
say such things must be done by doctors
; but I ain't going to stay where it
is, and I never thought John was the
Smith." He called his playthings "Old
Tom Smith," and last of all he called
his elder sister "Old Tom Smith."
Whether "Old Tom Smith" inflicted
a lasting injury upon that boy's
mind we have not learned, but we are
confident that Mr. Thomas Smith
would not have imperilled his character
at all.
Why children cateh up a nickname
or a low phrase so quickly we do not
know ; but, like the parrot who took
to swearing rather than praying, they
are sure to pick out from the family
vocabulary all of those words and
phrases which have "low" or "colloquial"
marked against them. We remember
an unfortunate man .who
lived, years ago, in a little Vermont
town. He was suffering from defective
vision and curvature of the spine.
He should have beeu an object of pity,
but instead of that some thoughtless
man made him forever an object of
ridieule by giving him the name of
"dnnint.ovn Pntrlia "
VJV "B""'
Every boy in (he town caught up
the epithet. It was a talking, nickuame
; it had a sort of grotesque fitness
about it which at once fascinated
young America.
What "Fogus" meant no one ever
knew. The man's name was Pierce,
but whenever he appeared some scjon
I of the town would shout out, "There
goes Squint-eye Fogus," and a general
laugh would follow. The result
was that in a few years the poor man
was everywhere known by this opprobrious
epithet; the shame of ridicule
was added to the pain and tlieinconvenience
of his deformity, and the rising
generation were taught to laugh at a
misfortune which should have aroused
their deepest commiseration.?Golden
Rule.
Sunday-School Books Deteriorating.
"That Sunday-school books have
very generally lost their distinctively
religious character,'^ says a.secular paper,
"is a feature of the times." He
then says: "That it is deemed sufficient
that they have a moral tendency,
and they mostly consist of novels."
This witness is true. And many of
the novels are poor trash. We could
give the names of men and women
whose stories are found in most of the
Sunday-school libraries, and who have
made fortunes by writing them,
"where the fact that the books are not
immoral is all that can be said in their
favor.
The free use of the books found in
many Sunday-school libraries is pernicious
to children. One of the prominent
members of Methodist Episcopal
Church, to our knowledge, has
long refused to allow his children to
bring home books from the library, he
preferring to select and purchase for
them.
a boy who was punished for reading
a flimsy novel on Sunday astonished
his mother on the followsng Sabbath
by bringing home the same book
from the Sanday-school library. A
few good works of fiction worthy the
name of moral will not injure such libraries?may,
indeed, be an advantage
to them?but when the majority are of
that class, and when cheap wishywashy
stories that weaken the mind
and, instead of introducing the germs
of manly virtue, perpetuate puerile
sentimentality, constitute the bulk of
such libraries, fheir influence becomes
more than doubtful.
What Has Iufldelity Done ?
It never raised a man or woman
from sin. It never took a drunkard
from the gutter, a gambler from his
cards, or the fallen from a life of
shame. It never found a man coarse
and brutal 111 life and character and
made of him a kind husband and father.
It never went out into heathen
lands, among the morally depraved,
and lifted them out of their degradation
to a high state of civilization. It
has never written down languages,
translated literature, or prepared textbooks,
or planted schools, or established
seminaries and colleges. It has
never founded hospitals for the sick or
homes for the helpless. What discoveries
has it made ? What improve- 1
ments has it introduced? Has it <
Afliieil nnvthinirto hnman lianoiness ?
Does it bring one ray of comfort to
the chamber of death ? The religion
of Jesus has done all this, ami more
too. "The tree is known by its fruits." ,
?Exchange.
The only piece of ground possessed (
by the United States of America, elsewhere
than in America itself is the
little plat of laud on which the American
Legations j.s built in the town of (
Tangier. This was given to the Amer- ,
ican nation by the Bultan of Morocco.
The Legation in all other countries (
stand on ground rented, but not owned,
by the Americau Government.
Still the Same.
,-rr ' . %
Through the yesterday of r.gef,
Jesus, thou hast been the same: ,
Through our own life's checkered page*,
Still tlio one dear changeless N;u?e ;
Well may we in thee confide,
Faithful Savior, proved nnd "Tried."
Joyfully wo stand and witness
Thou art still to-i'uy the same;
In the perfect, glorious fitness,
Mooting every need and claim,
Chlcfest of ten thousand thou!
Saviour, O most "Precious,"now.
Gazing down the far forever, ,
Brighter glows the one sweet Name,
Steadfast radiance paling nevor, .
Jesus. Jesus! still the same;'
Kvermore, "Thou shall "ndure," *
Our own Savior, strong and "Sure."
> V %
What Others Say.
The Church Union. '
"Offend Not the Little Ones."
?There is more danger of being diecourteous
to an inferior than to a ru
:
perior. The master is more likely to
offend a servant than a servant is to. '
offend the master. In proportion to
one's inferiority in age, rank, or attainments,
one is likely to be flighted,
misunderstood, and depreciated. Most
easy of all, then, if? to be discourteous
to a little child. Persous who would
not be thought impolite to an adult in -|
any station will thoughtlessly offend,
or even insult, a little child. A little
boy who was standing innocently by
his mother while she was entertaining '
a visitor, was asked by that, visitor
whether he went to Sunday-school.
Being assured that he did, she added :
"And what do you learu in Sundayschool?to
mind your mother?" \Tbe
spirit of that question was one which
the questioner herself or any of her
peers would rightly resent as unjust ^
and insolent, if applied to any one but 'j$
an innocent and helpless child. It hi
an unjust and harmful thing to presume
that a cljild is disobedient and ..
rebellious simply because it is a child.
It is pitiable that a child should be allowed
to infer that the most natural
I and most rational way for its elders to
I n /I #1 HAr-n ? 4- ? vi_t- 1 ? -
auuicN 11, in iu )VUIU6 WUll'U lllipiy
that it cannot be supposed to have any
right instincts, any right thoughts,
any right feelings, or to be ready to do
right deeds. -'Take heed that ye offeud
not oue of these little ones'!?in
any such way.
J. II. in Messenger of Peace.
The Importance of Peace.?The
importance of Peace to the best interests
of nations and all mankind is so
great that people who really wish to 1
see Peace prevail in the world, should ?
spend no time iu arguing the question
whether war can, in any case, ever be
justifiable or not; but as all are agreed
that Peace is exceedingly desirable, v|
therefore all should in love harmoni- 23
ously labor together for the hastening '
of the time when wars shall cease, so
that an appeal to arms in cases of international
disagreements will be
more strongly condemned than duel1
i rwr nr fluf fi rrli f ir?r# n/^nr iu all
Ui'5 VI Mguuug UU TT 10 UJ ail ^uuu
and sensible persons. But war is so
old ail error in the world, and has
been so long considered so necessary,
and oftentimes so "glorious," it can
not reasonably be expected that it will
stop without a hearty and 'friendly..,
union of the majority of the wise and
good in Christendom against it.
.
Christian Endeavor.?'Too many j
societies. Too much machinery. The
church of church of Christ ought to
be as simple iu its organization as simplicity
itself. Too many organizations
in the church divert, divide, weaken.
So many societies bode no good to the
church, their existence is a proof of
4U...
ucuiuic auu wcaaiicsa uulu tutrj lutllr ,*.v
tate decline and weakness. The Journal
and Messenger says: "How long
can the church exist with the Society.
We are open to conviction, and shall
be glad to hear from those who call
set us right. We may see this thing
differently at some future time, but
just now we have very serious misgivings
as to the whole movement. It
may die before it has done all the barm
towards which it now seems to look."
"Bill Nye."
"We have people enough who know
how to reform the world, but those
are williug to take off their coats and
attend to it personally are absent without
leave." * V vi
i
rg
Onions.
Boil in salted water till perfectly
done ; pour oil' the water and pour on
milk; when it boils add flour and butter
stirred together, sufficient to thicken.
Or, boil in salted water ten minute.*,
then put them in cold fresh wa
ter for half an hour; after that place
iu a stew-pan with just enough cold
fresh water to cover them, and boil
gently tiil tender. Drain and serve
with melted butter. Thus cooked
onions are deprived of their strong
odor.
Baked Milk.
Put a half a gallon of milk in a jar,
md tie it down with writing paper.
Let it stand in a moderately hot oven
eitfht or ten hours. It will be like
cream, and is very nutritious.
Assistant (to employer): "Please,
<ir, what shall I mark this new lot of
silks at?" Employer: "Twelve shillings
a yard." Assistant: But the
cost price is four shillings a yard."
Employer: "I don't care what it cost.
We are selling oil regardless of cost."
r;:;