'
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
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