COOP TIMES I
When the food times come, they needn't When the good times coma, then the right
beat the drum, shall trample wrong,
For the weary world will know it when the The world shall move forever to a hallelula
good times come; song;
There 11 be music on the hilltops and musio And joy will bless And brighten, and sorrow
on the plains, will be dumb,
And music in the tinkle and the twinkle of In that mad and merry season when the
the rains! good times come !
—V. h. Stanton, in Atlanta Constitution.
• Bejoi lis Green-Baize Door, i
There was a mystery beyond the
green-baize door; tangible or intangi
ble nobody knew,since no one but Mr.
Blakely ever saw the inside of tha
door which shut his private room at
Messrs. Blakely and Stephen's bank
from the narrow passage connecting it
with the general offices. We were so
accustomed to the green-baize doar,
and to the rule that no one was to ap
proach it, that we did not often give
the mystery much thought Even
Mr. Sharsley, the head cashier, was
not permitted access. Clients and
callers of all kinds Mr. Blakely inva
riably interviewed in another room,
where he was summoned by an electric
bell connected with the green room,
as we used to call it
There was nothing strange in the
baize door itself; a plain green door,
with a brass handle, which in no way
influenced the secret springs by which
the door opened and closed. Brass
headed nails marked the outlines of
the door's panels. A less suggestive
door never swung on hinges. Yet for
ten years (the length of time I had
been at the bank) that door had pos
sessed the most melancholy and un
canny influence over the bank's staff,
from cashier to charwoman. But no
one knew why.
Mr. Blakely was sole proprietor of
the bank, which was the only one in
town and showed every seninlance of
the soundest financial basis; and the
magnificence of his income was clearly
displayed at Somers Towers,his splen
did residence two miles out, where, at
the time of this story, he lavished tha
luxuries of life upon his second wife,
a very lovely aud proud young lady
half his own age—or '25.
Mr. Blakely was a man strangely
devoid of eccentricities, considering
his conduct concerning the baize d o ■;
the chief faults the bank staff found
with him were his indefatigability,and
that whenever there was business to
be done in London—selling or buying
stock, buying cash,etc. —he invariably
attended to it himself.
I was seated at the desk of the head
cashier, wlio was away on a short holi
day, one morniug in September, when
one of our clients e.itered the counting
house.
"Mr. Boyton, look here," he said,
slijjping a crown-piece upon the coun
ter. "Where did you get it?"
I took up the coin and rang it. It
rang unmistakably true.
"What's wrong with it?" I inquired,
examining it closely without noticing
any defect "Lid I give it to you?"
"Yes. Look at the edge; the letters
are missing—it's quite smooth."
He was right; the edge was as
smooth as that of a four-shilling piece.
I weighed it and found it true weight,
audit properly resisted the other
tests.
"It's perfectly good," I said. "No
doubt it is of an experimental mint,
and got into circulation by mistake.
How will you have it?"
"I don't care; half-crowns."
I passed him the money, and, as he
went away, I slipped the crown into
my pocket, intending to keep it as n
curiosity. But, later in the day, when
Mr. Blakely was in the office, I showed
it to him.
His handsome dark face clouded as
he took it and examined the edge.
"How did we come by it, Mr. Boy
ton?" he asked. He immediately re
sumed his natural easy manner when
I explained that I had passed it out
and had it returned.
"Curious!" he muttered. "One of
an experimental mint, for it's dated
1896. Do you think we've any others
similar?"
"No; I have been through them."
"Strauge! Well, I'll keep it It is
proliably unique."
I was disappointed with his deci
sion, as I wanted the coin myself. It
was against my principles, however,to
protest. I went back to my desk, re
paid myself the five shillings I tilled
for the coin, nud forgot the matter—
forgot it entirely until some weeks
later, wheu Mrs. Blakely, to the utter
astonishment of the bank's staff,
turned up an hear or so before
lunclieou time.
Up to that time, although she had
been married more than ten months,
Mrs. Blakely had never been inside
the bank. Now she drove up in her
carringe, came in proudly and asked
for Mr. Blakely.
I replied that if she would step into
the waiting room I would summon him
in the usual way.
"No. Show me into his private
room. lam Mrs. Blakely," she said,
hastily.
"I recognized you, madam," I re
plied. "But the rule is that all visi
tors, whoever they may be, are to be
shown into the waiting room, where
Mr. Blakely will interview them."
"Nonsense!" she "Such
rules do not refer to Mr. Blakely's
wife. The room is at the end of the
passage, is it not?"
"You are putting me in an awkward
position," I replied. "I am not al
lowed to let visitors approach the
green-baize door "
"Ah! Her proud eyes flashed. "So
there is a green-baize door which no
one approaches? I interrupted you,
sir."
*1 was saying, madam, that if I let
you pass, I offend Mr. Blakolj by
neglecting an old-established rule.
On the other baud, I offend you.
Pray step into the waiting room, where
Mr. Blakely will join you in less than
half the time we have spent in argu
ment "
When Mr. Blakely came, he did so
in his habitual leisurely manner, and
he walked into the waiting room, leav
ing the door ajar.
"Mr. Blakely," she said, haughtily,
*'l have been insulted by one of your
clerks. He refused to admit me to
your room, although ho knew me."
She pause 1 in a way that seemed to
tell me she was looking at him search
ingly.
"My dear girl," he replied, teuder
ly, "what has come over you? You're
not like yourself, Mary. What is it?
And what has brought you here so un
expectedly?"
"Did you not hear what I said,
Richard? Surely, the fact that I have
been insulted is reason enough for the
change you remark."
"But not reason for your advent,
since you must have been insulted
through coining here," he responded,
with his usual promptness.
"Since wheu has your wife been
denied the right to enter yonr private
room?" she demanded.
"Ever since she wrongly assumed
that she had such a riaht, Mary. My
clerks have their orders; they obey
them. You cannot blains them for up
holding rules I myself have framed.
Come, dear, be reasonable. What do
you want? I am very busy this morn
ing. The market is very unsteady just
now."
At this juncture it struck me that it
was incumbent upon mc to let them
know in some way that they con 1(1 be
overheard, or else to get out of ear
shot. While undecided which course
to take, I heard what aggravated my
indecision.
"Tell me, Eicbard; had tot known
I was coming, would you 1 a e allowed
your clerk to den}' me access to your
private room?" Mrs.Blakely inquired,
somewhat sternly it seemed to me.
".Did you come here to ask me
that?"
"Answer me, yes or no!" she in
sisted.
"The rule is of many years' stand
ing, Mary," he said, deliberately. "If
it were set aside for you it would be
the thin end of the wedge; my room
would no longer be private."
"l'ou indorse your cle k's insult?"
"I uphold my clerk who upholds
the bank's ru!e j ."
She was evidently nonplussed for
the moment by the fine fencing, for
she paused.
"If you have any shopping to do in
town," he said, "you might come back
in an hour, when I shall bo free to
drive home with you."
"Bichard," she said, quietly, "I
married you, not for your money, but
because I loved you. 1 loved you be
fore a younger man because I believed
I could trust my whole soul to you.
We have been married—how long?—
ten months; and until within ft few
hours my confidence in you has been
unshaken. You let me into all your
secret hjpes and fears; you kept noth
ing from me. Suddenly I hear a
strange story about a mysterious
green-baize door, which n > one but
yourself is allowed to approach. I call
the carriage and drive here to fathom
the depths of the mystery which I
fancied was only imaginary. But I am
more than amused now; I am piqued;
my confidence iu you is at stake. Let
me see into the room which no other
person but you has ever entered, and
I'll go home."
"You are the first person to suggest
that auy mystery attaches itself to the
room, dear," he replied, with a good
natured lßUgh. "It is simply a humble
room, where I work too hard to admit
of being disturbed at all hours of the
day."
"Will you let me see? I don't
doubt you—why should I? But lam
determinedly inquisitive. Will you
show me the room?"
"Not today, dear, I am very busy."
I felt her brush past me as she
came out of the room, aud saw her
walk round the her lips tightly
compressed and her head very high.
***** * *
The following morniug when I
turned up at the bank the porter nißt
me with the inquiry, Had I seen any
thing of Mr. Blakely? No? Strange!
No one had seen him since the bank
closed the night before. He was uot
in the bank—had hot been home—in
deed, it was Mrs. Blake'y who had
driven dowu the first thing to inquire
about him; and no one had seen him.
"Was he on the premises when you
locked up?" I asked.
"Can't say; shouldn't think so," the
porter replied. "I left the side door
on the latch uutil seven,as usual, aud
then bolted up, expecting ne must
have gone—generally goes before that,
you know, sir. He must have gone,
for I rung his bell again aud again
this morning."
Mrs. Blakely came up to me at this
moment, looking pale and anxious.
"Mr. Boyton," she asked, "have
yon seen my husband? You were the
last to leave, I believe?"
"Yea, madam; bat I have not seen
Mr. Blakely since be put you iut</
your carriage yesterday."
"That decides it," she muttered.
"Something has happened to him in
bis room. The door must be forced.
Porter, go for a carpenterl"
"You take the whole responsibility
of forcing the green-baize door?" I
suggested.
"The whole responsibility," she re
plied, and turned away impatiently.
When the carpenter arrived Mrs.
Blakely led him to the door and or
dered him to force it. He smiled
grimly, as he looked the door np an<l
down. He sounded it with a mallet,
and his jaw fell.
"Iron 1" he said, laconically. " 'Tisa't
my job; you want a blacksmith."
The porter was sent off in the car
riage to fetch a smith. Whon the man
anived, he eyed the door critically
an 1 looked dubious.
"A long job!" he said.
"Break it down then!" cried Mrs.
Blakely. "But waste no time."
The smith bared his arms, and, or
dering Mrs. Blakely, the porter and
myself to give him space, picked up a
heavy hammer. He tapped the doo-'
gently in various places itntil it rang
thinner than elsewhere. Then he
swung his hammer and struck tho
door heavily, just in the exact spot,
again and again. For five minutes he
dealt a rapid fire of blows, aud then
the door began to tremble, then to
shake. Filially, after ten or twelve
minute=, it gave a shudder and came
forward, swinging on its hinges.
Mrs. Blakely darted forward and
stopped. Six feet farther down the
narrow passage another door ob
structed the way. She signed impet
uously to the smith, who stepped for
ward and shivered the lock of the sec
ond, door, which was only light wood.
All was darkness beyond ihe door.
I turned to Mrs. Blakely, who stood
gaziag in wonderment int:> chaos.
"Porter," she taid, in a hushed
voice, suddenly turning her ashy face
towards the light which crept down
the passage from tbe farther door,
"get me a lantern. Tben you can.
both leave us. Mr. Boytijn's will be
all tbe help I need."
When the porter returned she took
the lantern from him, and watched
biui retreat down the passage into tbe
counting bouse.
"Prop tbe door so that it won't 1
fall," she said.
I did so, and, returning to her side,
took the lantern from her.
"You had better not coune, uiadnm," j
I said.
"I am coming," she replied,calmly.
We passed through tbe doorway aud
into a small, dark room, poorly fur
nished with a little office furniture aud
littered with papers. There was no
sign of Mr. lllakely. The one window
in the wall was high up; its glass was
fastened, aud the blinds were pulled, j
"Look!" cried Mrs.Blakely. "Look!
A trap-door!"
I crossed to ber, and glancing down
saw a square bad been cut out of tbe
carpet, iu tbe centre of which was a
ring by which I raised a trap.
Looking through we saw a ladder
leading down to darkness.
"Goon, sir; goon," said Mrs. '
Blakely, in a hollow voice. "We must
goon."
Going carefully down four rungs of
the ladder I held tbo lantern out at '
arm's leugth aud surveyed tbe scene. '
A stone-walled chamber stretched 1
before me like a large vault. In one
wall was a low, barred door; in a cor- j
ner was a small furnace. A peculiar
looking machine stood in tbe middle
of tbe vault, and upon a ledge of its !
frame tested a row of silver coins. j
"Go ou," said a voice above me.
I went dowu, and, stepping as I i
thought to the ground, my foot en- ,
countered something soft. I sprang
aside, avoiding it, and saw tbo body
of Mr. Blakely huddled up in a broken
bundle.
"Don't come; for pity's sake don't
come!" I cried to Mrs. Blakely. But
already she was half-way down tbo
ladder. In auotber moment she had i
stepped upon ber husbaud's body and
had shrieked.
"Ah, me; ah, me!" she moaned,
propping the nodding head upon her
knees with frouzied tenderness.
"Richard, husbanJ! You did not
merely dream—you lived your crimes
that night—and now! Ob, Mr. Boyton,
do you understand all this? My bus
baud is a felon! Deal, my heart is
dea'. But he is well dead, better
dea.l. This is bis secret! Last night
—the nigbt before he was restless in
his sleep, he talked of coining, yes
of coining—coining silver coins and
reaping profit—profit. 'You're a liar,'
be cried once in bis sleep, 'the coins
are good—requal to tbe Miut's. Tbe
Mint makes profit ou its silver coins,
and why not 1?' He sail that, and, as
I lay awake, I hoped he merely
di earned—l knew he d- earned. But
iu* I know the truth! Dead, dead!
Yes, yes, and if you lived these hands
should kill you for tbe ignominy and
shame! Richard,oh! BicLard,Richard!'
*******
Little beyond evidence of identifica
tion and as to the cause of death wa»
given at the public inquest held upon
the body of Richard Blakely, but the
police puisned the mattei to some
length in the hope of discovering the
men who must have helped the banket
in bis secret silver mint.
Tbe police found the door in tin
vault opened upon a narrow subter
ranean passage, running to a cottage
hard by. But when the police raided
the cottage they foun l it completely
deserted. Their theory is that the
banker's assistants went to the va ilt,
found their employer lying at the fool
of the ladder with his neck broken;
and realizing that exposure must fol
low, they took flight without delay.
Beyond the police,only Mrs. Blakely
an ! myself know the true secret that I
hid beyond the green-baize door,-
Tid-Bits.
Da TAT,MAGE'S SERMON.
SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED
DIVINE.
*
Subject: The Gospel'* Triumph—Victories
of the Christian Religion Depleted—
Transformations Wrought by Christ's
Teachings—Drunkards Reclaimed.
[Copyright, Louis Elopscb, 1899.]
WASHINGTON, D. o.—The antagonists of
the Christian religion are In this sermon of
Dr. Talmage met in a v-ery unusual way,
and the triumphs of the Gospel are depict
ed. The text is Ezekiei zxl., 21, "He made
his arrows bright, he consulted with im
ages, be looked in the liver."
Two modes of divination by which the
king of Babylon proposed to And out the
will of God. He took a bundle of arrows,
put them together, mixed them up, then
pulled forth one, and bjr the inscription on
it decided what city he should first as
sault. Then an unimal was slain, and by
the lighter or darker color of the liver the
brighter or darker prospect of success was
inferred. That is the meaning of the text,
"He made his arrows bright, he consulted
with images, he looked in thellver." Stupid
delusion! And yet all the ages have been
filled with delusions. It seems as if the
world lores to be hoodwinked, the delusion
of the text only a specimen of a vast number
of deceits practiced upon the human race.
In the latter part of the last century Jo
hanna Southcote came forth pretending to
have divine power, made prophecies, had
chapels built in her honor, and 100,000 dis
ciples came forward to follow her. About
five years before the birth of Christ Apol
lonius was born, and he came forth, and
after five years being speechless, aooording
to the tradition, he healed the sick, and
raised the dead, and preached virtue, and,
according to the myth, having deceased,
was brought to resurrection.
The Delphic oracle deceived vast multi
tudes of people; the Pythoness seated In
the temple ot Apollo uttering a crazy jar
gon from which the people guessed their
individual or national fortunes or mlsfor
fortunes. The utterances were of such a
nature that you could read them any way
you wanted to read them.
But there are those whosaytbat all these
delusions combined are as nothing com
pared with the delusion now abroad In the
world—the.delusion of the Christian relig
ion. That delusion has to-day 100,000,000
dupes. It proposes to enoirele the earth
with its girdle. That which has been called
a delusion has already overshadowed the
Appalachian range on this side of the sea,
ana it has overshadowed the Balkan and
Caucasian ranges on the other side of the
sea. It has conquered England and the
United States. This champion delusion,
this hoax, this swindle of the ages, as it
hue been called, has gone forth to oonquer
the islands of the Pacific, and Melanesia
and Micronesia and Malayan Polynesia
have already surrendered to the delusion.
Yea, it has conquered the Indian archi
pelago, and Borneo and Sumatra and Cel
ebes and Java have fallen under its wiles.
In the Fiji Islands, where there ure 120,000
people, 102,000 have already become the
dupes of this Christian religion, and If
things goon as they are now going on and
if the Influence of this great hallucination
of the ages cannot be stopped it will swal
low the globe. Supposing, then, that
Christianity is the delusion of the cen
turies, as some|have pronounced it, I pro
pose to show you what has been accom
plished by this chimera, this fallacy, this
hoax, this swindle of the ages.
And, in the first place, I remark that this
of the Christian religion has made
wonderful transformations of human char
acter. I will go down the aisle of any
church in Christendom, and I will find on
either side that aisle thoso who wore once
profligate, profane, unclean of speech and
unclean of action, drunken and lost. But
by the power of this delusion of the Chrfs
taln religion they have been comflotely
transformed, and now they ate kind and
amiable and loving and useful. Everybody
sees the change. Undor the power of this
great hallucination they have quit their
former associates, and, whereas they once
found their chief delight among those who
gambled and swore and raced horses, now
they find their chief joy among those who
go to prayer meetings and churches, so
complete Is the delusion. Yea, their own
families have noticed it—the wife has no
ticed it, the children huvenotioed It. The
money that went for rum now goes for
books und for clothes and for education.
He Is a new man. All who know him say
there has been a wonderful change.
What Is the causo of this change? This
great hallucination of the Christian relig
ion. There Is as much difference betwoen
what he Is now and what he once was (js
between a rose and a nettle, as between u
dove and a vulture, as between day und
night. Tremendous delusion!
Admiral Farragut, one ot the most ad
mired men of the American navy, early be
came a victim of this Christian delusion,
and, seated not long before his death at
Long Branch, he was giving some friends
un account of his eurly life. He said:
"My father went down in behalf of the
United States Government to put an end
to Aaron Burr's rebollton. I was a cabin
boy and went along with him. I could
swear like an old salt. I could gambltf'in
every style of gambling. I kney all the
wickedness there was at thut time
aboard. One day my father cleared every
body out of the cabin except myself and
locked the door. He said: 'David, what
are you going to do? What are you going
to be?' 'Well,'l said.'father, I am going
to follow the sea.' 'Follow the sea and be
a poor, miserable, drunken sailor, kicked
and cuffed about the world, and die of a
fever In ti foreign hospital.' 'Oh, no!' I
said. 'Father, I will not be that; I will
tread the quarter deck and command ns
you do.' 'No, David,' my father said;
'no, David, a person that has your prin
ciples and your bad habits will never
tread the quarter deck or command.' My
father went out and shut the door after
him, and I said then, 'I will change, I will
never swear again, I will never drink
again, I will never gumblo again,' and,
gentlemen, by the help of God, I have
kept those three vows to this time. I soon
after that became a Christian, and that
decided my fate for time and for eternity.'
Another captive of this great Christian'
delusion. There goes Saul of Tarsus on
horseback at full gallop. Where Is he go
ing? To destroy Christians. He wants no
better play spell than to stnnd and watch
the hats and coats of the murderers who
are massacring God's children. There
goes the same man. This time be is afoot.
Where Is he going now? Going on the road
to Ostia to die for Christ. They tried to
whip it out ot him, they tried to senre it
out of ljlm, they thought they would give
him enough of it by putting him on small
diet, and denying him a cloak, and con
demning him as a criminal, and bowling at
him through the streets; but they could
not freeze it out of him. and they could not
sweat it out of htm, and they could not
pound It out of blm, BO they tried the sur
gery of the sword, and one summer day in
6he was decapitated.' Perhaps the mighti
est intellect of the 6000 years of ,tho world's
existence hoodwinked, cheated, cajoled,
duped by the Christian religion.
Ah, that is the remarkable thing about
this delusion of Cbristlanltyl It overpow
ers the strongest Intellects. Gather tbo
critics, secular and religious, of this cen
tury together and put a vote to them as to
which is the greatest book ever written,
and by large majority they will say,
"Paradise Lost." Who wrote "Paradise
Lost?" One of the fools who believed In
this Bible, John Milton. Benjamin Frank
lin surrendered to this delusion, if you may
judge from the letter that he wrote to
Thomas Paine begging him to destroy "The
Age of Reason" in manuscript and never
let it go into type, and writing afterward,
In his old dayt, "Of this Jesus of Nazareth
I have to say that the system of morals
He left and the religion He has given us
are the best things the world has everaeen
or is likely to see." Patrick Henry, the
electric champion of liberty, enslaved bj
this delusion, so that be says, "The book
worth all other btfoks put together is the
Bible." Benjamin Bush, the leading physi
ologist and anatomist of his day, the great
medical scientist—what did he say? "The
only true and perfect religion is Christian
ity/' Isaao Newton, the leading philoso
pher ot his time—what did he say?
That man surrendering to thli delu
sion of Christian religion, crying
out "The subllmest philosophy on
' earth Is the philosophy of the Gospel.'*
David Brewster, at the pronunciation ol
whose name every scientist the world over
uncovers his head, David Brewster saving,
"Oh, this religion has been a great light to
me, a very great light all my daysl" Presi
dent Thiers, the great French statesman,
acknowledging that be prayed whon he
said, "I Invoke the Lord God, in whom 1
am glad to believe." David Livingstone,
able to conquer the lion, able to conquer
the panther, able to conquer the snvago,
yet coojuiered by this delusion, this halluci
nation, nils groat swindle of the ages, so
when they find blm dead they find him on
his knees. William E. Gladstone, tbo
strongest lntelleot in England, unable to
resist this chimera, this fallacy, this de
lusion of the Christian religion, went to
the house of God every Sabbath and often,
at the invitation of the rector, read the
prayers to the people. If those mighty in
tellects are overborne by this delusion,
what chance Is there for you and for me?
Besides that, I have noticed that Qjst
rate infidels cannot be depended on for
steadfastness in the proclamation of their
sentiments. Goethe, a leading skeptic,
was so wrought upon by this Christianity
thnt in a weak moment he cried out, "My
belief in the Bible has saved mo In my lit
erary and moral life." Rousseau, one of
the most eloquent champions of infidelity,
spending his whole life warring against
Christianity, cries out, "The majesty of
the Scriptures amazes me." Altemont,
the notorious infidel, one would think he
would have been Bate against the delusion
of the Christian religion. Oh, no! After
talking against Christianity all his days,
in his last hours he cried out, "Oh, Thou
blasphemed but most Indulgent Lord God,
hell Itself Is a refuge if it hide me from Thy
frown!" Voltaire, the most talented InfidaK
the world ever saw, writing 250 publica
tions, and the most of them spiteful against
Christianity, himself the most notorious
libertine of the century—one would huve
thought he could have been depended
upon for steadfastness in the advocacy of
infidelity and in the war against this terri
ble chimera, this delusion of the Gospel.
But no; in his last hour he asks for
Christian burial, and asks that they
give him the sacrament of the Lord
Jesus Christ. Why, vou caunot de
pend upon these first rate Infidels; you
cuunot depend upon their power to resist
this great delusion of Christianity. Tbotnns
Paine, the god of modern skeptics, -i
birthday celebrated in New York and li ,-
ton with great enthusiasm—Thomas Puliie,
the paragon of Bible haters—Thomas
Paine, about whom his brother Infidel,
William Carver, wrote in a letter which I
have at my house, saying that he drank a
quart of rum a day and was too mean and
too dishonest to pay for it—Thomas Paine,
the adored of modern Infidelity—Thomas
Paine, who stole another man's wife iu,
England and brought her to this country
—Thomas Paine, who was so squnlld and
so loathsome and so drunken and so prof
ligate and so beastly in his habits, some
times picked out ot the ditch, sometimes
too filthy to be pinked out—Thomas Pafno,
one who would have thought that he
could have been depended on for stead
fastness against this great delusion.
But no. In his dying hour he begs the
Lord Jesus Christ for mercy. Powerful
delusion, all conquering delusion, earth
quaking delusion of the Christian religion.
\ea, it goes on. It is so Impertinent, and
It Is so overbearing, this chimera of the
Gospel, that, having conquered the grout
picture galleries of the world, the old mas
ters and the young masters, it is not satis
fied until it has conquered the music of the
world. Look over the programme of any
magnificent musical festival and see what
pre the great performances and learn that
the greatest ot all the subjects are religious
subjects.
Deluded lawyers—Lord Cairns, the high
est legal authority in England, the ex-ud
vlsor of the throne, spending bis vacation
in preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ to
the poor people of Scotland. Frederick T.
Freliughuysen, of New Jersey, once Secre
tary of State, an old-fashioned Evangelical
Christian, an elder in the Reformed
Church. John Bright, a deluded Quaker.
Henry Wilson, the Vice-President of the
United States, dvlng u deluded Methodist
or Congregationalism Earl of Kintore dy
ing a deluded Presbyterian.
Yes, this delusion of the Christian re
ligion shows itself in tho fact that it goes
to those who arc in troublo. Now, it is
bad enough to cheat a man when ho is well
and when he is prosperous, but this re
ligion comes to a man when he is sick and
says: "You will be well again after awhile.
You are going into a land where there are
no coughs, and no pleurisies, und no con
sumptions, and no languishing. Tuko
courage and benr up." Yea, this awful
chimera of the Gospel comes to tho poor,
and It says to them, "You are on your i
way to vast estutes and to dividends nl- i
ways declarable." This delusion of Chris
tianity comes tc the bereft, and it talks of
reunion before tl;e throne and of the cessa
tion of all sorrow. And then, to show that
this delusion will stop at absolutely noth
ing, it goes to tho dying bed and fll!s tho
man with anticipations. How'Jiuch better
it would be to have him dlo vithout any
more hope than 57,-ine and rats aud snakes!
Shovel (him under! That is all. Nothing
more left of him. He will never know any
thing nguln. Shovel him under! Tho soul
Is only u superior part of the body, and
when the body disintegrates the soul dis
integrates. Annihilation, vacancy, ever- ,
lasting blank, obliteration. »Why not pres- ;
ent all that beautiful doctrine to the dying
Instead ot coming with this hoax, this
swindle ot the Christian religion, und fill
ing the dying man with anticipations of j
another life until some In the last hour
have oiupped their hands, and somo have i
shouted, and some have sung, and eomo
have boen so overwrought with jov that !
they could only look ecstatic? Palace j
gates opening, they thought—diamond
coronets fiasbing, hands beckoning, or- 1
chestras sounding. Little children dying
actually believing they saw their departed
parents, so that although the little chil
dren had been so weak und feoble and sick
for weeks they could not turn on their dy
ing pillow at the last, In a paroxysm of
rapture uncontrollable they sprang to their
feet und shouted, "Mother, catch me; I
am coming."
And'to show the immensity of this delu
sion, this awful swindle of the Gosprei of
Jesus Christ, I open a hospital, and I bring
Into that hospital the deathbeds of u great
many Christian people, aud I take you by
the hund, and I walk up and down the
wards of that hospital, apd I ask a few
questions. I ask, "Dying Stephen, what
have you to say?" "Lorti, Jesus, receive
my spirit." "Dying John Wesley, what
have you to say?" "The best of all is God is
with us." "Dying Edward Payson, what
have you to say?" "I float in a sen of
glory." "Dying John Bradford, what have
you to say?" "If there be uny way of go
ing to heaven on horseback, or in a fiery
oharlot, it is this."]
O my Lord, my God. what a delusion,
what u glorious delusion! Submerge mo
with it, fill my eyes and ears with it, put it
under my bead for a pillow—this delusion
spread it over me for «, canopy, put It un
derneath me for an outspread wing, roll it
over me In ocean surges 10,000 fathoms
deep. If infidelity, and if atheism, and it
annihilation are a reality and the Chris
tian religion la a delusion, give me the de
lusion.
Well, we will soon understand It all.
Your life and mine will soon be over. We
will come to tho last bar ot tho music, to
the last act of the tragedy, to the last page
ot the book—yea, to the last line and to
the las'- word—and to you and me It will
either be midnooo or mtdnightl
A TEMPERANCE COLUMN.
THE DRINK EVIL MADE MANIFEST
IN MANY WAYS.
A Modern Instance—An Army Officei
Who Believe* the Liquor Traffic 1* ■
Great Curie to Our Soldier*—lt 1* th«
Enemy of Discipline.
Who said Jim's dead?
I guess there's some mistake.
It don't seem more 'n six months age
An' 'taint above a year, I know,
That I bid him good-bye, an' said to him.
"Let's take a drink fer friendship, Jim
Jest one 'er the old time's sake."
Jim shook his head, 'n' said
He hed never teched a drop;
That he'd promised his mother he would
n't drink,
An' he 'lowed she'd cry, 'n' what 'ud sh«
think
If she knowed he had broke his word,
had Jim,
An' she alovln' 'n' trustln' him,
An' Jim her support an' prop.
But I lafTed 'n' chaffed,
'N' callel blm some names, ye see.
'N' 'lowed that such 'fraldlee wa'nt worth
no price.
That he wouldn't be likely to cut much
Ice,
If he hadn't more man Inside of his
clothes
Than to want ter refuse a partln' dose
. With an old time friend like me.
'N' Jim gave in, did Jim,
'N' drunk quick, 'n' held his breath,
I said, "Here's luck to ye, old fel',"
'N' Jim said, "Better say luck to .-
Well.
I never had heard .Tim swear afore;
Tb<«n he went like shot outside the dooiv
With a face white 'n' scared as death.
Who said Jim's dead?
I guess there's some mistake.
! Drunk? Killed a woman crossin' the
track?
I Ills mother? Run his engine smack
Into an open switch, 'n' then
WHS killed himself 'n' the fireman?
j Mighty quick work things make.
Sorry fer Jim, fer him
j 'N' me was sorter chums one time.
I 'low that Jim got swamped on drink
, 'N' yet he wa'nt the feller you'd think
1 That 'ud goto extremes—but one can' 1-
tell.
, Just a year ago, I remember well,
I Jim thought drink was bad as a crime!
—S. B. McManus, in Ham's Horn
A Touching; Incident.
I have read of a town meeting In Penn
sylvania where the question of license was
to be decided, writes a correspondent of
the Herald and Presbyter. As the ques
tion was about to be put there arose from
one corner of the room a miserable female,
wrinkled and gaunt, nnd stretching out
her arms in a shrill voice she cried: "Look
upon me. You all know me, or once did.
You all know that I was once the mistress
of the best farm in the township. You all
know too, I had one of the best—the most
devoted of husbands. You all know how I
"bad five noble-hearted, industrious boys.
Where are they now? Doctor, where ar»
they now? You all know. You all know
they lie in a row side by side, in yonder
| churchyard; all—every one of them filling
a drunkard's grave! They were all taught
to believe that temperate drinking was
safe—excess alone ought to be avoided;
and they never acknowledged excess. But
I saw the gradual change coming over my
family and prospects with dismay and
horror; I felt we were all to be over
whelmed in one common ruin. I tried to
ward off the blow. I tried to break the
spell—the delusive spell—ln which the
idea of the benodts of temperate drinking
had involved husband and sons. I besge !,
I prayed; but the odds were aguinst me.''
And. with her arms flung high, and her
tall form stretched to Its utmost, and her
voice raised to an unearthly pitch she ex
claimed: "I shall soon stand before the
judgment seat of God—l shall meet you
there, you false guides, and be a witness
against you all!"
She spoke and vanished. But when the
chairman put the question, "Shall any
license be granted for the sale of spirit
uous liquors?" the response was unani
mous—"No!"
Total Abitlnence In Hot Weather.
Avoid alcoholic drinks if you want to in
sure yourself In these torrid days against
heat prostratlou. Whisky is first a stimu
lant and then a depressant. It overworks
tue heart for a time, and then there is
languor due to lack of material on which
to labor. Vitality Is lost and probably at
the critical time. Under the Influence of
liquor the mind Is deceived as to the real
condition of things. Temporarily stimu
lated by its action, a man is liable to ex
pose himself more than he ordinarily
would, or to exert himself more than is
needful. Heat prostration or direct sun
stroke Is the result.
A curious phase of the whiskv drinking
habit is that its victims imagin or try to
make themselves believe that liquor may
be used in all emergencies. In winter they
use It to protect them against the cold,
and In summer Its refrigerating qualities
are extolled. But those who put aay
thought Into the matter may see for them
selves the absurdity of such conflicting
claims.
As a matter of fact, neither in summoi
ror winter Is alcoholic drink necessary.
Those who abstain fr .m its use.utter.y, are
happier and healthier than the people who
look upon It as a panacea for all ills, and
who use or abuse it accordingly. Try let
ting it severely alene and notice the bene
ficial results.
Crime* Traced to Drink.
Liquor selling among the Indians has
been pretty well suppressed. For sixty
years the Qovernmeut has attempted tc
enforce prohibition umong Its wards In In
dian Territory. Congress made it a penal
offense to carry whisky or any other In
toxioatlng liquor Into an Indian reserva
tion, and a similar penalty was Imposed
upon Its sale to Indians anywhere. To en
force this law the courts have been in
creased and huudredsof deputy marshals
have been employed both in the Territory
and along the border.
Years ago, wlien the Indians were practi
cally alone upon their reservation, It was
a difficult task to control their thirst foi
fire water, but when 850,000 white men wer«
added to the population the problem be
came almost impossible of solution. If he
can be kept sober the Indian makes a good
citizen down there, but when he gets a few
ounces of fire water into his veins all hi!
savage instincts and passions are aroused
and he becomes a demon. Niuety-flve pei
cent, of the crimes of all kinds committed
In Indian Territory can be traced to drink
and nearly all the business of the courts
provided by the whisky peddlers.
The Crusade In Brief.
J The saloon Is an incubus upon ail indus
try.
The saloon is a legalized drunkard fas
tory.
Don't try to quarantine the saloon, bal
help to kill It.
By their fruit* y* shall know them—ap
ply this to the saloon.
In the keen competition of life men can
not afford to Indulge In liquor.
It the saloon Is wrong, as all admit, car
any amount of money make It right?
License Is not Intended to stop the li
quor traffic, but to perpetuate it by law.