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About The Sioux County journal. (Harrison, Nebraska) 1888-1899 | View Entire Issue (April 15, 1897)
' ifMigBi i t t i 1.11,1. -m t.mm ,uisfrm rr 1 1 ii'mtii -:i ' ' n , " n" ' i a m timm mmmmammmmmmm.7c.''3iM ' . '. ' tr ' " ft ii re III! HI! All right: Now we sha'n't be long!" said the gray parrot I regret to say that the ir repressible young man that brings the dally njllk is the tutor of my pnrrot In the latest up-to-date slang of the day. I am an old sea eaptalu at least. Dot old, perhaiM the word slipped out un awares. I am on the right side of GO. anyhow; but being In receipt of a pen sion and a small isrlvate Income to hoot, I hare east anchor iu my present atwde In the eJiMH-tntion of weathering many a winter's storm yet. Being without a known relation iu the world. I willingly fell In with the suggestion that I should pick up my moorings alongside my old friend and messmate, Cnpt. Tnivers. late R. X., who, having left one of his leg" on the west coast of Africa while capturing a slaver, was petitioned off at au even earlier age than myself, and now lived with his sister a most comfortable party, fat, fair, and 40, or theresltouts In the adjoining bouse, to mine In the neighborhood of London. We bad al ways got on well together, our tastes and dispositions were similar, and we had often met during our naval careers. His sister I had not previously Ix-en acquainted with, but, being In many respects like her brother, we were soon Brui friends. Capt. Travers and myself bad cadi a favorite parrot his the common Afri can gray, with a red-tipped tail, and mine the purer variety, without a trace of color, but otherwise similar. I had not long settled down In my new quarters, and got everything ship shape, or wh.it seemed so to me a very important difference, as I know to-day when, almost unconsciously at first, I began to feel what a lonely old lacli elor I was r ml what a set-off to all my other belongings the tignre of Miss Rachel Travers would be by my lire side. But just here the course of my life began began to make itseif felt. Inherent shyness in the presence of the opposite sex had dogged my footsteps from my earliest recollections, (live me a gale of wind in the bay of Biscay, a tornado In the tropics, or twenty hours' duly on deck, wet through to the pkln, and ("apt. Mauley, late of the 1. and (). service, will tlmnk you for It, and consider life well worth living; but as dispcuser of delicate attention to the fair sex. Intensely ns he Inwardly admires their pretty ways. Capt. Man- ley docs not, no. he certainly does not show up to udvantage. Although fond of pets generally, I have an antipathy to cuts. eioeia!ly at night. I am not aware that our nHgh lwrbood was particularly beneficial In its aspect or other qualifications to feline constitution, but I know that un til I was Inhuman enough to start an air-gun cannonade ou my numerous nocturnal visitors, I wa frequently un able to get a respectable night's nt. One Infernal black and white Tom de fied my fluent efforts. If average cats have nine lives, I am sure this one must have had nineteen, and I began to won der what sort of uncanny being this was that had no objection to letting my bullet pass apparently through its body without suffering any Inconven ience. But after all It must have been my bad marksmanship, for one after noon I saw my enemy quietly walking up the low fence that divided my back garden from Capt. Travers". The opportunity was too good to be lost, and quietly getting my alrgun I took a steady aim and Bred. There was uo mistake this time, and without a sound poor puss dropped on to my flow er bed as dead as the proverbial door uaiL My exultation, however, was of short duration, for to my horror and dismay, on proceeding to pick up his unfortu nate cares a, a ud give It decent burial, I saw that toy abut bad passed right through the unlucky animal and killed my neighbor's parrot which bad been put out to sun itself In a little summer house that stood at the bottom of the garden. I was staggered at my position; I knew the parrot was a supreme favor ite with Mbts Travers, and how I could sac explain my ca rolossues I could not Imagine. Suddenly a way out of my dilemma presented itself to my mind, and I hastened to put It Into execution. I knew that the Traverse were out, and would not be back for some little time, o hurrying Indoors aud taking my own parrot from lta cage I carefully painted the end of Its tall with rod Ink in Imitation of Its de ceased comrade, aud finding no one was about I stepped lightly over the fence and suhsUiuted the living for the dead bird. which I buried, together with the cat, In my own garden. I kuew that my parrot would not readily talk before eiinnger. and I hoped that by the time It had got used to It new surrounding It would have forgotten lta former aecompllitbments; at any rate, I must risk It. Alast "Uneasy Ilea the bead that wesrs a crown," sang some poet, who, I expect, never wore anything harder than a nightcap, but. true as It may be. compared to the torture of my tr.ind, now launched on a course of duplicity. It wonld be a bed of rosea. It was toward the end of the follow Ing week that I happened to be out In the garden and saw my obi friend come tumpta down the path of his n Kardep la bl dot-nad cjrry-one style, and. mMng me on the fence, cried : "Holloa I Captain, you're qnlie a atraagw! Woo.-gb'." "J? Haohel h 'f 7 few been talking about coming In to la quire about your health, as she was afraid something must be wrong." "Yes, I have been a bit poorly," said I. Ob, how easily the words slipped out, although I had been as right as nine pence why that particular sum should be endued with more rectitude than its fellows have never been able to dis-cover-this by the way. "A bit of cold, perhaps," said Cnpt. Travers. "Well, come over the fence and have a dish of tea iu the summer bouse, aud Rachel shall come iu after ward anil make you a good glass of something stiff for a nightcap." l'uuctually at 5 o'clock I donned my sprucest attire, and with a smart flow er In my butloiihole-rgay do? that I was clipped over the fence. Miss Rachel was (here, looking as fresh as a spring cabbage with tb dew ou it, which I consider a very pretty simile, sod she bade me welcome with one of her beaming smiles. There, too, was the unluc ky parrot in its cage, aud startl ing just outside the summer house. I had noticed that it had been set out to sun itself as usual on all tine days, aud as far as I could see nothing bad trans pired to make me think they had any cause to suspect my Imposition. I purposely sat with my back to it, aud avoided taking notice of It iu any way whatever. Tea went oft ail right; my old friend was very cheery aud Miss Uachei showed me great attention. I could hear Polly rubbing her beak up and down the wires of the cage, mid swing ing backwards and forwards In iae metal ring. After the meal Capt. Travers went indoors to get his supply of necessaries for the evening, and, turning to me, Miss Travers commented: "By-the-by, Capt. Mnnley, how is your parrot' I have not seen It out In the garden lately." I felt my heart Is-atlng a bit faster, but with every semblance of outward calm I said: "No; the fact is. It's not been at all well: In fact, it Is dead." "Icad!" she exclaimed. "Well, 1 never. What did It die of ?" "I really don't know," I replied. "It died quite suddenly about a week ago." "I hope our Polly Isn't going to follow suit," she continued. "She has been very dull and quiet the last few days, but seems a bit more lively this even ing. I dou't think she has spoken a word all the week." "Thauk goodness!" 1 inwardly f-Jacu lated. . Things were beginning to look a bit awkward, and I cast about for some thing to change the course of conve: satlon. I am not a quick thinker, however, and before I could collect my wits Miss Travers continued: 'Dear, dear, to think your poor Pol ly's dead! Well, I am sorry 1 I should be sorry to lose you, Polly, dear," she said, addressing the parrot "But, real ly, Capt. Manley," looking me straight In the face, "I can't make our Polly out. Sometimes I could almost belle v she was a different bird. She hasn't once seemed plessed to see me all the week." I felt the blood rapidly rising to my cheeks and forehead, but I trusted to toy tanned complexion for It not to show. I feebly replied: "Perhaps she's moulting," If was an unlucky sjip. "Well, now I come to think." said Miss Travers, "I noticed -that its tall looked much paler after its bstb the other morning, and the water waa quite red. Is that a alga of moulting?' "Yes, I often used to notice '.t about my own parrot" "But I thought your bird had no red about it," she pursued. "Confound the woman's pcrslsteucc," I thought, but I stammered; "I mean that Is to say you see I've noticed It in all red parrots I have ever come across. They shouldn't ls bathed at all; It injures their constitution." "Oh! 1 thought you recommended It," she said. Ho I hud, dozens of times. "Only for the gray ones," I said, forming a con venient distinction on the spur of the moment. Miss Travers didn't seem' Inclined to pursue the subject further, much to my satisfaction, and then there was a dead Iuse. During the whole of onr conversation the subject of It had not ceased to con tinue Its sntics In the wire ssge. Whether It was the sound of my TO-e that rauwd It to be thus excited 1 do not know, but at this opportunity It burst In with "HI, bir . I was g-Htlnn desperate, sod cold "I MEAM THAT IS TO SAT VOL', SIR." think of notl.lmr to change the subject; and yet If I didn't say something I was terribly afraid the parrot would. A bicycle bell sounded down the road. "Are you thinking of getting a bicy cle. Miss Travers?" I said. "No, certainly not," she replied; "how can you ask such a question?" Another awful pause, during which I mopped the inspiration from my brow. "Ra lta Rachel, I love you!" came in clear tones from behind my back. The wretched bird bad caught the ex act tone of my voice. "Capt. Manley! Sir!" said Miss Trav ers, raising herself to her full five feet one and one-half inches. "IMd you ad dress that remark to roe, sir?" I bad, however, utterly collapsed, and, burying my head In my bands, I leaned down ou the little round table. Whether the sight of the poor old ship in distress touched her tender heart, I don't kuow, but she added, in softer tone: "This Is very unexpected, Capt Man ley." I could hold out no longer. "Miss Rachel," I cried, "I'm a thun dering old hypocrite. My parrot isn't dead at all; t'jere It Is in that cage; It's yours that's dead I shot It I didn't mean to. Can you forgive me for all the lies 1 told you?" "All right! All right!" said the solemn voice of the arrot behind me, "It was Polly that made that reniHrk Just now, not I. Believe me, lie speaks the troth, If 1 dou't. . Rachel, I do real ly love you." I ventured to look up. Tears were standing In her eyes, and the expres slotiion her face made me hope that I did not look quite such a big booby la her eyes as I felt I did In my own. Moving nearer, I clasped her hand, and. as It was not withdrawn, I put one arm gently round her ample waist. "Now, we sha'n't be long," said the gray parrot. Tit-Bits, A Chinese New Year's. Chinatowi: i f San Francisco was keeping holni. . . and all was gaiety aud bustle. The narrow, picturesque streets were decorated with brightly-colored lan terns, while overhead alsive the roof tops, the yellow dragon-Hags flouted against a blue California sky. It was a sunny day In February; aud the streets were swarming with a mul titude of Chinese men, women aud children-all arrayed in their richest holiday attire. The children especially, with their bright faces and black eyes, and Iu their pretty costumes, formed a most pleasing and Interesting feature of this living Oriental picture. Kverybody seemed to bo happy and good-natured; and ever and anon, as a group of friends met, they stopped and timid much ceremonious bowing ex changed the compliments of the season; for this festive occasion was nothing more nor less than the celebration of the Chinese New Year. The Idea of celebrating New Year's Day In February may strike some of my readers as odd. But, since this has Ix-eu the Chinese custom from time im memorial, and is older, by several thou sand years, than our acceptance of the first of January as the proper time, the Chinese, perhaps, are not far wrong in sttpjosi;ig themselves to le at least as i!. tel. in the right us ourselves. This qui-hiiou, l.o .vever, was of no concern to this merry holiday throng. They were quite satisfied with the arrangement; and, with the utmost belief In their own superiority, they felt at heart an Inborn contempt- common to all Chinese for "outside barbarians." This term em braces all nations not living within the sacred boundaries of 'The Flowery Kingdom," and Includes the Inhabi tants of all the world; and these unfor tunate outsiders are broadly divided into classes Eastern and Western bar-barJans.-8t. Nicholas. Locomotive Without a Fire Box. In the cjty of Marseille, France, a railroad has recently been completed which possesses the original feature that Its motive power consist of steam locomotives without firebox. This pe culiar engine was adopted In order to effect the passage of a tunnel, half a mile long, without development of moke. Teh locomotive consists of a cylindrical boiler, which Is Oiled with hot water under a maximum pressure of 227.5 pound per square Inch. At the end of the line the pressure decreas es to 43 to 70 pounds. The water 1 then heated again to 203 degrees, corre sponding to a pressure of 227.5 pounds by means of steam produced by the generators at the central station. The boiler I 10 feet long, 3.8 feet In diam eter and holds besides AM gallons of water and 21 cubic feet of steam. The steam from the generators Is uniformly distributed through the watsr bjr suit ably arranged pipes. After having been used In the cylinders, the steam is condensed in a condenser, consisting of 1,1 M pipes, provided over the boiler. Charcoal from Lestber. The manufacture of charcoal of an Important commercial value, from com. mon leather waste or scrap, that Is, as charcoal produced from leather has lieen found to be.of soch peculiar vaJue In certain process of tempering, a plan has leen brought forward for util Irlng the waste lost her which accumu lates in shoe shops, etc., by converting It Into charcoal. The plant for manu facturing this kind of charcoal consists CNsenl lally of a metal retort, something like those for the production of Illumi nating gas, and the cost of such an equipment Is calculated not to much exceed $200, while one man unaided can easHy operate tfie whole, The shrinkage of the leather lo thus becom ing charcoal la said to be not more than 50 percent A lxe In Anger rings Is 1-16 of a inch. PRAISE f OR GREECE. DR. TALMAG- ON A SUBJECT OF WORLDWIDE -NTEREST. He Show What We Owe tbe Greeks A Debt in Lanesage, Art, Heroism and Mert.cine-Tlie llt Wajr to Pay tlie Ittb:. t ar Wa-hinirtoo Pulpit. As Dr. Taluiage's sermons are publish ed ou both ilc of the ocean, this dis ciairse ou a subject of world-wide inter cut will attract universal attention. His text was Humans I., 14, "I am debtor both to the Greeks aud to the barbarians." At this time, when that behemoth of alHiiiiimitiuus, Mohammedanism, after having gorged itself on the eareasws of bm.isw Armenians, is trying to put its paws upon one of the fairest ot all na tions, that of the Greeks, I preach this s'mun f aitinpntliy and protest, for ev ery hiteiliuHiit mr.un on tliifi side of the '-a, as well as the other side, like Paul, uliu wrote the text, is debtor to the Greek. The present criwg is emphasized by the gnus of the allied powers of Eu rope, ready to be uniiir.bered against the Hellenes, and I soi aked to seak cut. Paul, with a mustrr intellect of the sg'-s, sat in brilliant Corinth, the great Atro- 'orintlni fortress frowning from the height of l,f'iK feet, and in the house of CaiiiK, where lie was a guest, a big pile of money near him. which he 'was taking to Jerusalem for the poor. in (Lis letter to the Romans, which f'hrjsiNitom ii(!ini"ed so much that he had it read to him twice a week, Paul practi cally Kays: "I, the apostle, am bankrupt I owe whnt I cannot pay, but I will pay as large a percentage as I can. It is an obligation for what Greek literature and Greek sc ulpture and Greek architecture and Greek prowess have done for me. I will pay all I can in installments of evangelism. I am insolvent to the Greeks." Hellas, as the inhabitants call it. or Greece, HH we call it, is insignificant in size, about a third as large as the State of New York, but what it lacks in breadth it tnnkes up Jn height, with its mountains Cylene and Kta and Taygetus and Tym plirestus. each over 7,000 feet in elevation, and its Parnassus, over K.OOO. Just the country for mighty men to be born in, for in nil lauds the most of the intellectual and moral giants were not borti on the plain, but had for cradle the valley be tween two mountains. That country, no part of which is more t linn forty miles from the sen, has made its impress upon the world as no other nation, and it to-day holds n first mortgage of obligation upon all civilized people. While we must leave to statesmanship and diplomacy the settle ment of the intricate questions which now involve all Europe and indirectly all na tions, it is time for all churches, all schools, all universities, nil arts, all lit erature, to sound out in the most em phatic way the declaration, "I am debtor to the (J reeks." The Creek Language. In the first place, we owe to their lan guage our New Testament. All of it was first written in Greek, except the book of Matthew, and that, written in the Ara maean language, was soon put into Greek by our Saviour's brother James. To the Greek language we owe the best sermon ever preached, the beHt letters ever writ ten, the best visions ever kindled. All the parables in Greek. All the miracles in Greek. The sermon on the mount in Greek. The story of Bethlehem aud Gol gotha and Olivet and Jordan banks and Galilean beaches and Pauline embarka tion and Pentecostal tongues and seven trumpets that sounded over Patmos have come to the world in liquid, symmetrical, picturesque, philosophic, unrivaled Greek, instead of the gibberish language in which many of the nations of the earth at that time jabbered. Who can forget it, and who can exaggerate its thrilling impor tance, that Christ and heaven were in troduced to us in the language of the Greeks, the language in which Homer had sung and Sophocles dramatized and Plato dialogued and Socrates discoursed and Lycurgns legislated and Demosthenes thundered his oration on "The Crown V" Everlasting thanks to God that the watera of life were not hnnded to the world in the unwashed cup of corrupt languages from which nations had been drinking, but in the clean, bright, golden lipiied, emerald handled chalice of the Hellenes. Learned Curtius wrote a whole volume about the Greek verb. Philologists century after century have been measuring the sym metry of that language, laden with elegy and philippic, drama and comedy, "Odys sey" and "Iliad," but the grandest thing that Greek language ever accomplished wns to give to the world the Iwuedictiou, the comfort, the irradiation, tbe salvation, of the gospel of the Hon of God. For that we are debtors to tbe Greeks. And while speaking of our philological obligation let me call your attention to tbe fact that tnsny af the intellectual and moral and theological leaders of the ages got uuich of their discipline and effective ness from Greek literature. It is popular to scoff at the dead languages, but 50 per cent of tike world's intellectuality would have been tskeu off if through learned in stil utions our young men had not, under competent professors, been drilled in Greek masterpieces, Hesiod' "Weeks and Days." or the eulogiuui by Himonides of the slain in war, or Pindar's "Odes of Vic tory," or "The Recollections of Socrates," or "The Art of Words," by Corax, or Xeu ophon's "Anabasis." Illatorjr and the Greeks. From the Greek the world learned how to make history. Had there been no He rodotus ami Thucydides there would have been no Maeanlay or Bancroft. Had there been no Sophocles In tragedy there would have been no Hhakspenre. Had there been no Homer there would have been no Mil ton. The modern wits, who are now or have been put on tbe divine mission of making the world laugh at the right time, can be traced back to Aristophanes, the Athenian, and many of the jocosities that are now taken as new had their sugges tions 2,.'i00 year ago in the fifty-four comedies of that master of merriment. Grecian mythology ha been the richest mine from which orator and essayists have drawn their illustration and paint ers the themes for their canvas, and, al though now on exhausted mine, Grecian mythology lias done a work that nothing else could have accomplished. Bores, reisresenting the north wind; Blsyphu, rolling the stone up the hill, only to here the same thing to do over agam ; Tantalus, with fruit above him that be could not reach: Achillea, with hi arrows; Icarui, with his waxen wings, flying too near the ; n; f!:; Centaurs, half man snd half lx-ast; Orpheus, with bis lyre; Atlas, with the world on bis back all these snd more have helH3d litemture, from the gradu ate's KM-ech on couiiueuceuient day to Ru fus ("hoate's eulogiuui on Daniel Web ster at Dartmouth. Tragedy and comedy were born in tbe festival of Dionysius at Athens. The lyric and elegiac and epic isietry of Greece 5IS) years before Christ has its echoes in the Tennysons. Ingfel lows and Bryants of lsisj and V.KiO years after Christ. There is not an effective pulpit or editorial chair or professor's rixjui or cultured parlor or intelligent farm house to-day iu America or Euroje that could not appropriately employ Paul's ejaculation and say, "I am debtor to the Greeks." The fact is this Paul had got much of his oratorical power of expression from the Greeks. That he had studied their literature was evident when, standing in the presence of au audience of Greek scholars oa Mars bill, which overlooks Athens, he dared to yuole rom one of their own Greek poets, either Cleanthus or Aratus, declaring. "As certain also of your own poets have said, 'For we are also his offspring.' " Aud be made ac cu rate quotation, Cleanthus, one of the poets, having written: For we thine offspring are. All things that creep Are but the echo of the voice divine. And Arstns, one of their own poets. had written : Doth care perplex? Is lowering danger nigh? We are his offspring, and to Jove we fly. It was rather a risky thing for Paul to aitempt to quote extemporaneously from a iHieni in a language foreign to his and before Greek scholars, but Paul did it without stammering and then acknowl edged before the most distinguished audl euce on the planet his indebtedness to the Greeks, crying out in bis oration, "As one of your own poets has said." Grecian Architecture. Furthermore, all the civilized world, like Paul, is indebted to the Greeks for architecture. The world before tbe time of the Greeks had built monoliths, obe lisks, cromlechs, sphinxes and pyramids, but they were mostly monumental to the dead whom they failed to memorialize. We are not certain even of the names of those in whose commemoration the pyramids were built. But Greek architecture did most for the living. Ignoring Egyptian precedents and borrowing nothing from other nations, Greek architecture carved its own columns, set its own pediments, adjusted its own entablatures, rounded its own moldings and carried out as never before the three qualities of right build ing, culled by an old author "firmitas, utilitas, venustas" namely, firmness, use fulness, beauty. Although the I'arnthe non ou the Acropolis of Athens is only a wreck, of the storms and earthquakes and bombardments of many centuries, and al though Lord Elgin took from one side of that building, at an expense of $250,KI0, two shiploads of sculpture, one shipload going down in the Mediterranean and the other shipload now to be found in the British museum, the Parthenon, though in comparative ruins, has been nn inspira tion to all architects for centuries past and will be an inspiration all the time from now until the world itself is a temple of ruin. Oh, that Parthenon! One never gets over having once seen it. But whnt must it have been when it stood as its architects, Ikitnos and Kallikrates, built it out of Pentelican marble, while as Mont Blanc at noonday and as over whelming. Height above height. Over topping the august and majestic pile and rising from its roof was a statue of Pal las Promachus in bronze, so tall and flash ing that sailors far out at sea beheld the plume of her helmet. Without the aid of the eternal God it never could have been planned, and without the aid of God the chisels and trowels never could have constructed it. There is not a fine church building in all the world, or a properly constructed court house, or a beautiful art gallery, or an appropriate auditorium, or a tasteful home, which, because of that Parthenon, whether its style or some oth er style be adopted, is not directly or in directly a debtor to the Greeks. But there is another art in my mind the most fascinating, elevating and in spiring of all arts and the nearest to the divine for which all the world owes a debt to the Hellenes that will never be paid. I mean sculpture. At least OTK) years before Christ the Greeks perpetu ated the human face and form in terra cotta and marble. What a blessing to the human family that men and women, mightily useful, who could live only with in a century may be perpetuated for five or six or ten centuries! How I wish that some sculptor contemporaneous with Christ could have put his matchless form in marble! But for every grand and ex quisite statue of Martin Luther, of John Knox, of William Penn, of Thomas Chal mers, of Wellington, of Lafayette, of any of the great statesmen or emancipators or conquerors who adorn your parks or fill the niche of your academies, yon are debtors to the Grewks. They covered the Acropolis, they glorified the temples, they adorned the cemeteries with statues, some in cedar, some in ivory, come iu ailrer, aome in gold, some in size diminutive and 'some in size colossal. Thanks to Phid ias, who worked in stone; to Clearchus, who worked in bronze; to Dontas, who worked in gold, and to all ancient chisels of commemoration. Do you not realize that for many of the wonders of sculpture we are debtor to the Greeks? Tha Art of Heallns. Yes, for the science of medicine, the great art of healing, we must A-ik the Greeks. There is the immortal ,'Jreek doctor, Hippocrates, who first opened the door for disease to go out and health to come in. He first set forth the importance of cleanliness and sleep, making the pa tient before treatment to be washed and take slumber on the hide of a sacrificed beast. He first discovered the importance of thorough prognosis and diagnosis. He formulated the famous oath of Hipixjc rates which is taken by physicians of our day. He emancipated medicine from sup-' erstition, empiricism and priestcraft. He was the father of all the infirmaries, hos pitals and medical colleges of the last twenty-three centuries. Ancient medica ment and surgery had before that been anatomical and physiological assault and bnttery, and long after the time of Hippoc rates, the Greek doctor, where his theo ries were not known, the Bible speaks of fatal medical treatment when it says, "In his disease he sought not to the Lord, but to the physicians, snd Aa slept with his father." And we resd In the New Tes tament of the poor woman who had been treated by Incompetent doctors, who sakod large fees, where It says, "She had suf fered many things of physicians snd had pent all that shs had and waa nothing better, but rather grew worse." For our glorious sc ience of medicine aud urgeiT more sublime thsu astronomy, for have more to do with disease than wua the stars; more leautiful than botany, for bloom of health in the cheek of wife aud child is worth more to us than all the roses of the garden f'T this grandest of all sciences, the science of healing, every pillow of recovered invalid, every ward of Americ an and Euroiean hospital, may well cry out: "Thank God for old Dr. Hippocrates. I, like Paul, am indebted to the Greeks." " Furthermore, all the world is obligated to Hellas more than it cau ever pay for its heroic s iu the cause of liberty and right. I'nited Euro)ie to-day had not better think that the Greeks will not tight. There may be fallings back and vac-illations and tem porary defeat, hut if Greece is right all Europe cannot put her down. The other nations, before they open the portholes of their men-of-war against that small king dom, bud better read of the battle of Mar athon, where 10,000 Athenians, led on by Miltiudes, triumphed over PSLOOOof their enemies. Iu full run the men of Miltiades fell upon the Persian hosts, shouting: "On, sous of Greece! Strike for the free dom of your country! Strike for the free dom of your children and your wives, for the shrines of your fathers' gods aud for the sepulc-hers of yaJir sires!" While only G reeks fell, (i.400 Persians lay dead upon the field, aud many of the Asiatic hosts who took to the war vessels in the harbor were consumed in the shipping. Persian oppression was rebuked, Grecian liberty was achieved, the cause of civiliza tion was advanced, aud the western world and all nations have felt the heroics. Had there been no Miltiades there might have been no Washington. Also at Themopylae 800 Greeks, along a rood only wide enough for a wheel track between a mountain aud a mursli, died rather than surrender. Had there been no Thermopylae there might have been no Bunker Hill. The echo of Athenian and Spartan heroics was heard at the gates of I.ucknow, and Sevastopol, and Bannock burn, aud Lexington, and Gettysburg. English Magna Charta, and Declaration of American Independence, and the song of Robert Burns, entitled, "A Man's a Man for a' That," were only the long con tinued reverberation of what, was said and done twenty centuries before in that little kingdom that the powders of Europe are now imposing upon. Greece having again and again shown that ten men in the right are stronger than 100 men in the wrong, the heroics of Leouidas and Aristides and Themistocles will not cease their mission until the last man on earth is as free as God made him. There is not on either side of the Atlantic to-day a re public that cannot truthfully employ the words of the text ami, say, "I am debtor to the Greeks." Debt to the Greeks. But now comes the practical question. How can we pay that deb or a part of it? For me cannot pay more than 10 per cent of that debt in which Paul acknowledged himself a bankrupt. By praying Al mighty God that he will help Greece in its present war with Mohammedanism and the concerted empires of Europe. 1 know her queen, a noble, Christian woman, her face the throne of all beneficence and love linesH, her life au example of noble wife hood and motherhood. God help those palaces in these days of awful exigency! Our American Senate did well the other day, when, in that capitol building which owes to Greece its columnar impressive ness, they passed a hearty resolution of sympathy for that nation. Would that all who have potent words that can be heard in Europe would utter them now, when they are so much needed ! Let us repeat to them in English what they centuries ago declared to the world in Greek, "Blessed are those 'who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the king dom of heaven." Another way of partly paying our debt to the Greeks is by higher appreciation of the learning and self-sacrifice of the men who in our own land stand for all that the ancient Greeks stood. While here and there one conies to public approval and reward the most of them live in pri vation or on salary disgracefully small. They are the Greeks of our country and time, and your obligation to them is in finite. But there is a better way to pay them, and that is by their personal salvation, which will never come to them through books or through learned presentation, be cause in literature aud intellectual realms they are masters. They can outargue, out quote, outdogmatize you. Not through the gate of the head, but through the gate of the heurt, you may capture them. When men of learning and might are brought to God, they are brought by the simplest story of what religion can do for a soul. They have lost children. Oh, tell them how Christ comforted you when you lost your bright boy or blue-eyed girl! They have found life a struggle. Oh, tell them how Christ has helped yon all the way through! They are in bewilderment. Oh, tell them with how many hands of joy heaven beckons you upward! "When Greek meets Greek, then come the tug of war," b'Jt when a warm-hearted Christian meets a man who needs pardon and sym pathy and comfort and eternal life, then come victory. i rbort Sermon. 1 Tbe Secret of Life. The great secret of life is to learn how to repulse Irrele vant ideas, aud how to cherish aud maintain those which will externalize Hi to barinoniouH phenomena for thoughts, and thoughts alone make up our environments here or hereafter. Wo have tbe same rlgnt to decline or accept a spurious thought as a counterfeit coin, and we should exercise the privilege, whether people call us "narrow" or not. -Rev. T. E. Mason, Christian Scientist, Brooklyn, N. Y. Church and State. It is for Chris tians In America to give to the world an example nud a proof that we can live in peace nnd amity as brethren In Christ and children of one Father. Let us be warned by English history to keep church and state separate, and to main tain at every hazard lilierty of con science for all. God iK?ed the day when we shall forget the battle of the Boy no and join our forces In the only wurfare In which Christians should participate the warfare against sin. We want to see our children, Catholic and Protest ant, marching In friendship and unit under tbe banner of our Lord Jesus Christ and the ling of our common coun try. Rev. J. V, O'Connor, Catholic, Philadelphia, Ps. Why Is It easier to tell your friends ail about your baby than to listen to their leport of theirs t ft it ' 1 i r . I; "It H. t.- V ' " i 0 ' 9 4 j-A r t