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BY-PRODUCTS OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS—By George Eaves, D. D.
□TTENTION has been recently called to the fact that the most valuable results to our common humanity arise as a sort of Indirect fruit of the evangelistic passion. The most re markable illustration of this is unques tionably the Continent of Africa, and its most shining glory the immortal Scottish independent, David Livingstone, whose centenary occurs on Wednesday next, March 19. My thought responds just now all the more readily to this anniversary because in my childhood David Living stone was a hero of our family, and of our most intimate circle, which included relatives of Robert Moffat and the widow of another member of the same splendid band who had given themselves to the work of saving South Africa. It will be remembered that Dr. Moffat's daugh ter became Mrs. Livingstone, and was as heroic and as splendid a soul as he. I take Livingstone therefore as a text on practical religious sacrifice, a most proper Lenten meditation. Much of our Lenten discipline has little aim outside ourselveB, becomes a sort of heathenism because so centered In self-will; even de feats its spiritual object because it pro vides no useful outlet of emotion and thought. People go without dances, par ties, amusements, cake, candy, or com pany, thinking to please the Eternal thereby, forgetting that pain for pain’s own sake is ill pleasing to Hiiru while pain for duty's sake Is well pleasing. Tho first needs Phariseism, the second spir itual nobleness. David Livingstone, the poor weaver boy, catching his grammar, a word or two at a time, as he tended his loom, preparing himself for college because his mind de manded victory, and somehow conscious that the wide world was for him to play the man In, Is a pathetic and strenuous figure. When about 1S38, he was studying theology and medicine in London and Glasgow' as preparation for a missionary career and emerging with credit from his examinations in medical and other science, the man was the product of the boy. But what, had made the boy? A father and mother who simply “loved Jesus'’ and were faithfully endeavoring to do His will. When he was 19 he chose to be come a medical missionary, for the gen erous spirit of'his straitened home burst into flame for that high endeavor. He was accepted by the London Missionary society, spent a while in special prepa ration, and chose Africa for his field, only when it proved impossible for the work in China to be immediately enlarged by such an addition. One cannot but wonder what might have been, had Livingstone joined Griffith John in China under the same great society. But there was propriety in his go ing to Africa for Dr. Robert Moffat, the heroic missionary to tile great chief Africander and the Bechuanus and Matabele was the decisive influ ence that led Livingstone to enter the mission held. And it was a true apos tolic succession which brought Livings tone as a suitor to Moffat's daughter and made him Moffat’s son-in-taw. About 10 years were spent in what must be called David Livingstone's preliminary work. At Kuruman, with Moffat, then at Mabotsa and Koloberg. he established his influence with the Bakwains anil other tribes and felt the hostility of the Dutch farmers to all who would help the natives, and there we wronght out a new education in practical administrative and explora tion work. A passion to reach the re gions untrodden by white men obsessed his soul. And so, in 1861, accompanied by wife and children after two failures lie reached the Zambesi river, where lie hoped to find a chief with open mind to welcome teachers. This must be re garded as the first stage in Living stone's career as explorer. In 1S53 he attained his immediate purpose, es tablished a mission among the Makololo at their capital, Liny anti, preaching the gospel, ministering With great suc cess to the diseases of the people and winning their lasting confidence and lore, it was ou May HI, 1851 that lie finished exploring all tile Zambesi sys tem of river affluents and reached St. Paul de Luanda on the west coast. All the journal of tills historic jour ney is thrilling to rend, and the scien tific value of it Is acknowledged as un impeachable to this day. When his astronomical and geographical facts were sent to the astronomer royal, at (lie Cape of Good Hope, that gentle man asserted, "You could go to any point across tile entire continent, along Livingstone's track and feel certain of your position." From November, 1855. to May, 1856. lie was journeying l ack to tlie east coast, arriving at Quiiimatie May 20, four years from the time he had last left Cape Town, hav ing conquered the continent, traveling 11,000 miles afoot, and winning tin foremost place among living exporters. It was December, 1866, that lie returned to England for the first time and was greeted by all classes with the utmost enthusiasm. Here ends the second stage of his usefulness. Henceforward he is to he recognized as a great international force, hurling Itself against the greatest I atrocity of all time, the African slave trade. For now Livingstone knew at j first hand the horrors and iniquities and deviltries practised by Arabs ami na i tives in the raids by which that deadly | business was sustained. Henceforward ! Livingstone devoted himself to supplant ing this traffic in the bodies and souls ! ol' men and women by introducing legi timate commerce, opening trade roujes where the jungle was then ghastly with the bones of unnumbered victims. With this end in view he accepted the post of British consul in Eastern Africa in 1858, was greeted with honor at Cape Town, where a handsome presentation was made to him. then moved north, ex ploring the important Shire river, of which region he had high opinions, and rtaohe-d Lake Nyassa in September. 18U. lb again visited Portuguese Weft Africa and let timed to the Zambesi by way of the Makololo country in the next two years. Mrs. Livingstone died in lS6i\ Out of these journeys sprang the Uni versities' mission in Central Africa, an enterprise which caught Livingstone’s spirit and expressed it in most effective forms of industrial civilization. In 1861 the steamer which was to he used in the explorations, and which the proceeds of Livingstone’s book of travels? had chieffy contributed to purchasing, t as less necessary than the money she represented. Therefore this courageous man hlnjself navigated her from the mouth of the Zambesi to Bombay, where she was sold and he returned to Eng land. At this point begins the enterprise to discover the sources of the Nile and the entire waterway system of Central Africa. But when urged by high authorities to give up the missionary side of the work, Livingstone replied that the gospel must stand us the first motive and geograph ical discovery serve as its instrument. T remember the impression which the “Last .Journals’* made upon my mind as a youth, and with what reverence 1 followed the story of Stanley's meet ing with the tireless explorer and heroic gentleman, once a weaver, a cot ton operative at a Glasgow loom. Zan zibar wns indeed more- than a name now: Slerro Leon© had become a neigh boring place, and those m w names, the Victoria Nyanzn. the Tanganyika, Lake Moero and Like Bangueolo. Uji.il, the Victorin Falls and th“ rest, to say nothing of tlA now world for which the Congo no*stood as the gateway, were making Africa a garden where it had always been impenetrable desert. But nt what a cost! See the lone man. with insufficient food supplies, attempting to subsist on native corn I and to eat it raw. breaking his teeth ! upon it, suffering agonies of toothache^ beating out tho teeth by the most primitive dental apparatus on record. See him at last, reaching llala, in a condition of utter exhaustion, where the King Chi tain bo had a hut ready ffor htm. See him kneeling there be side his bed on May 1, 1873, at mid night. his head buried in his hands and ills flesh chill in death. The swamps had claimed their victim, but the boys who attended him understood how pre cious their master was to the great world which had sent Stanley to find him and of which he had so often told them. They took out his heart and leaving all the most perishable parts of his body in a grave at llala, they made their way to England, via Zan zibar, with fhe dried frame of him whom they honored and loved as few can love better than Africans. Over the grave at Ialila Is a stone to re place the rotting tree where Susi and drama left their record. In West minster Abbey lies the frame, so weathered and" reduced to Its least shreds, which moved a world to tears and praise. TUSKALOOSA, CHIEF OF THE MOBlLIANS---By B. F. Riley, D. D. S had before occurred, couriers pre ceded Do Soto, warning tthe In dians of other settlements and tribe* of his coming. Numerous Indian towns were passed by the Spaniards as they wended their way, following the wide and well beaten paths of the Indians as they threaded the primeval forests. The Spaniards were cautious and wary and kept a sharp outlook for lurking danger. They would Invariably pitch their camps at night on the outskirts of an Indian village, and at times well with in Its limits. If an attack or misfortune should come, there was an evident ad vantage of close proximity to supplies. The Spaniard was suspicious, the Indian distrustful. Much after the fashion of the ancient cities of Europe and of the farther east, some of the larger towns of the Indians were surrounded by massive walls. Tim bers hard and heavy, of cured oak and hickory, sometimes sunk deep Into the earth and standing upright, at others lying horizontally, but In cadi instance, strong and compact, made the walls most formidable to attack. Along the summits of these ramparts, high and rude, were watch tutors of lookouts, warily senti neled. There was evident the sense or geometrical order, skilled workmanship and reslstfu'ness to attack from without, all of wlilC. served to heighten the won der of the- Spaniard. If Indeed It did not deepen his solicitude. Tbe Tallapoosa river was reached—a stream flanked by dense woods, and pene trating soils of blackness and of a dingy red. DeSoto was greatly Impressed by the savage skill shown in the location of a fortified town in a graceful curve ot the river. Tallassee, for that was the name of the town, had a double protection In the river which coiled about it, and in the wall which more immediately en circled It. Prom the nature of the fortifi cations, the Indians evidently regarded Tallassee one of their strong and strate gic points. In the regions adjacent, lin ing the fertile hanks of the river, were fields of corn with heavy ears almost sufficiently ripe for the harvester. This was in 1540, some time after which this beautiful and prosperous Indian re gion was invaded by tribes of Indians from Mexico, who, with tomahawk and fire laid waste the country, burning the towns and reducing to slavery such of the native tribes as were not slain. In point of Indian relics no part of the country is rarer and richer than this. Numerous relics have here been found for the enrichment of depositories and a few years ago a peculiar Implement of anti quated warfare was plowed up In this region. The metal implement suits the description of the cannon in use at the time of the DeSoto invasion. It repre sents the type of ordnance known in those days as the “drag,” the heavier pieces of which were suspended by chains from an axle between two wheels, when movable, or between two fixed objects, when used for stationary service. They were sometimes sufficiently light to be held off from the person, In the palm of the hand, when used for firing. This last description suits the description of the Implement fan ml In the Tallapoosa re gion. It may be seen among the inter esting collections so industriously made by Dr. Thomas M. Owen, the able and efficient director of the Alabama state department of archives and history, tn the capitol, at Montgomery. When the rail road was building between West Point and Montgomery, there was dug up in the region of the Tallapoosa river a neck lace of rare beads, such as were worn by chiefs and princesses in the primi tive days. At Tallassee, whither had come the ter rible news of the aprroaching Spaniards, such of the Indians as did not betake themselves to the forts met DeSoto with slight and /mol civility. In order to rest his force the Spaniard halted here for 20 days, during which time men and stock were recuperated, and the stores of the commander replenished. It was here that DeSoto was visited by a sprightly young brave of splendid physical mold, gaudily attired, excessively polite, and making much show of primitive diplomacy, who Invited the Spaniard to the dominion ami capital of Tuskaloosa, a powerful, chief, the territory of whom began about a) miles south of Tallassee and extended westward to the hanks of the Tomheckbe. DeRoto was notified that Tuskaloosa was in person awaiting him near the northern confine of his dominion and was ready to accord a welcome alike befitting the great monarch and the brave Spanish commander. To all of tills and much more DeSoto listened with Imperturbable mood, meanwhile according due respect to the punctilious young diplomat, who, when he signi fied his purpose to return, the Spaniard sent a message of grateful acknowl edgment to the chief, not unattended with gifts. With this the incident closed, but it had a bloody sequel. On quitting Tallassee and before crossing the river on his southward inarch, DeSoto -released thq, chief of the Coosa and sent him back to his people, a bearer of gifts. The chief hud served DeSoto’s purpose and now that no dan ger could come of him he was dis missed. The valuable gifts, in part, atoned for the perfidy of his reten- , tion in captivity. Up to this time the Spaniards had had much their own way. Everything that disputed their progress had been swept aside as so many cobwebs. With genuine Castilian arrogance mixed with cruelty, they had matched the land through with the "air of masters, but their brightest days were now behind them. The future had in store for them j abounding trouble and misfortune to grapple with which would tax them to the utmost. Gold, the only’object of the quest of this adventurous itin erary, had induced these young fel lows of Spain to sell their estates and enlist under the standard of DeSoto, had not been found. Not a grain of the precious metal had been discovered and more, they were not destined to find any. They had been lured by lust for gain far Into the wilderness fast nesses of America, had encountered fierce and hostile tribes, were remote from their ships, and their condition was now a precarious one. Brave, dar ing and well equipped as they were, even these advantages were not with out serious limitation and there was little to save them from utter extinc tion In these deep forest retreats. Nor were there lacking omens of disas ter which did not escape the acute detec tion of the wary and wily Spaniard. Be neath the thin sheath of diplomacy and protestations of friendship and of hospi tality, there lurked a subtle purpose to decoy these men of Spain to destruction. DeSoto felt this in his bones. That the Coosa chief was sincere, there is little doubt, but DeSoto’s treatment of him had exposed his apprehension, which, in turn, sharpened the revenge of the Indian. The Spaniard’s overwrought precaution hastened to ripeness a conspiracy which else might have been averted. Coming within easy reach of the place of meeting appointed by the chief, Tits kaloosa, DeSoto dispatched his camp mas ter. Moscoso, in advance with 15 picked horsemen, clad in imposing attire, osten sibly to negotiate, but really to impress. Ostensibly Moscoso was to ascertain the wishes of the chief concerning the na ture of the formalities at the approaching meeting. Moscoso found the proud mon arch of the wilderness seated on two beautiful cushions placed on a rare and curiously-wrought mat. He was stationed on a lofty eminence which commanded in all directions, a view of imposing nat ural grandeur. Around him stood, in large numbers, half naked warriors, w'it.h bodies smeared with paint of different colors. Above the chief they held a canopy formed of deer skins, and sup ported at each end with slanting staves. The canopy was rudely, ornamented on the upper side with parallel lines of varied color. While this was used as an Improvised protection from the sun, it was really a banner of war. The chief was a fine specimen of the physical man, large, strong, sinewy, erect, and heav ily limbed. He looked the savage sov ereign to perfection. His mien was stern and grave. His manner consequential, but dignified. Anxious to impress the haughty chief with the importance, and especially with the prowess of the com ing Spaniards, Moscoso and his band pranced their proud steeds before him. With necks arched, eyes dilated, and nos trils thin, the horses reared and plunged, while the practiced cavalrymen would perform feats of acrobatic horsemanship. With visage unmoved, the chief quietly gazed on without demonstration. Hater, dashed up DeSoto with the entire troop, hoping to produce an impression of awe. if not of terror, but the stolid chief remained as austere as ever. H DeSoto would impress Tuskaloosa with his importance. Tuskaloosa was just as intent on impressing DeSoto with his profound greatness. rIt was throughout a dramatic game of diplomacy at which each sought to play with more effect. The reception was short, the speeches brief and cautious. The savage spoke with haughty reserve, as though com pelled by courtly form. DeSoto. though speaking briefly, was extravagant in praise of the chief, but especially of him self. lie sought to impress the proud Indian with the idea that while as an Indian, he thought him peculiarly great, and* in condescending magnanimity he would accord tills, still it was an honor, not to be lightly esteemed by the chief, that he should make any concession at all. This event occurred just south of Line Creek in the prescent county of Montgomery. The meeting was mutually unsatisfac tory. Both chief and commander were doubtful of the accomplished result, and both were consequently stiffened to in creased vigilance and resolution. One was suspicious, the other treacherous. In mo tive, each was equally hostile. Each felt that be had strained concession, each was bent on final success. Timt a junc ture had been reached that would result In a fair test of ability, each knew, and of the issue neither doubted. Both would plan and watch. It was a hand-to-hand light beneath a show of formality. What ever the conditions, DeSoto was deter mined to keep the chief near himself. Alter two days, DeSoto prepared to move. With much show of politeness, he invited the chief to ride with him. The choicest of the horses was selected, a blood red blanket thrown over him, while there was tendered to the chief a crimson cap, and robe of the same color, all of which fascinated the chief, while it showed a courtesy undreamed of. For the first time, the doughty warrior was lifted astride a charger. The spectacle was grotesque enough—the red robed warrior on the red blanketed steed, with his huge feet in loose mocassins hanging low. Out of the camp they rode at the head of the cavalcade, DeSoto and the chief, while thronging thousands gazed with admiring and gaping wonder. It was a ride that preceded a bloody tragedy. LETTER WRITING—No. 1—By Dr. W. E. Evans HORACE said, "Scribimus indocti doctlque,” and If this statement tvere true in his time, how much more universally does it apply today. All of us write, the ignorant as well as the learned. We do not all write books, essays, or stories; but wre are all writers of letters. If it w'ore pos sible to give wings to the letters that are written daily; and if it were agreed by the governments of the world that at a certain hour these winged letters should he permitted to fly to their des tinations; so numerous are they that the very gun, would be darkened as they flew through the air. Millions find millions of them would be over our heads. They would cross seas, moun tain ranges, vast plains, and valleys; 1 they would come from and go to dis tant continents; they would flutter to the shores of strange islands, and like white winged birds come therefrom, and finally rest in remote nooks across the hemispheres, or in populous cities, towms and villages. What a host there would be! When the Titanic went down she carried with her over a million mail parcels, most of them letters. ThlB of one ship! While all over the world of civilization men, women and chil dren continue to w'rite letters. There are long letters, and short ones; letters of business interests, and letters of friendship; letters of sorrow', and let ters of gladness; letters of enmity, and letters of love; letters of loneliness, and letters of happy family life—O, in in one way or another we are all writers of letters. *■ Our letters, as a rule, partake of the changes of modern times. Formerly, letters were written with a higher re gard for the handwriting than now-. Doubtless the reader has in his pos sesion a letter or letters written by some member of his family many years ago. As he looks at It now, he sees a letter that could serve as a copy plate. Every word Is perfectly traced and cverw single letter stands for the perfection of grace and beauty. Yet, he is looking at a letter that contains simply an account of family matters, and was one of many tints written. It was not written for exhibition. It was the usual custom for men and women of culture thus to write In the long ago. Tlte writers of those old letters had plenty time. So, they slowly traced their letters, and sent them off perfect in sentiment and in caligraphy. In these days wo are all hurried. We have no time for the graces of rhetoric in our letters, nor leisure to consider the manner in which we form our let ters. We want to say something, and it saves time to say it at once, and this we do. Many of us write our let ters on a machine. (Peccavi!) And I speak as a man who receives, many letters, tills Is far better than lo dash off a hurried and illegible letter, though in polite circles of personal cor respondence tho machine written letter still finds disapproval. Some time agb a clergyman wrote me a letter. I wished he had used a machine. I was a busy man and yet I gave that letter much of my valuable time on one of my busiest days, trying to decipher his almost sinfully wretched handwriting. I wrote him of the annoy ance lie had givon me. and begged him to ronslder "the party of the second part" when he wrote his letters. I hope h© now has a writing machine. For a man is positively wrong who Imposes hls careless and illegible handwriting upon another. I am writing as one who lias suffered. I am not astonished at tlie curious mistakes that compos itors often make, and some of their IIIHMIMHHHIHIMHIHHIHtMHMIllMHlIlHi mistakes are very funny to every body, except to the man who sent the manuscript, and he generally loses his temper and blames the good natured proofreader. I am not astonished, I say. for of all the had penmanship in all the world. I have seen some olf the most atrocious sent to the compositor! As if another person could know what is in one's mind by a few staggering scratches. It is preposterous! Lord Macaulay, himself a fine letter writer, pronounces some of the letters of Lord Byron “among the best in our language.” He says: “They are less af fected than those of Pope and Walpole; they have more matter in them than those of Cowper * * * and we must confess that, if the epistolary style of Lord Byron was artificial it was a rare and admirable instance of that highest urt which cannot be distin guished from nature.” His style was not artificial, however. If anywhere in the world Byron was natural it was in his letters. He came as near fulfilling Steele’s view as an other man in lit erature. Said Steele; “There is no rule in the W'orld to be made for writing letters, but that of being as near what you speak face to face as you can.” This rule Byron seemed unconsciously to observe. Hence, the charm of the great poet’s epistolary gift to the world. Compare Pope’s letters with those of Byron, and they are as far from nature as Pope’s translation of the Iliad is from Homer! The most stilted letters In the epistolary world are those written by Lord Chesterfield to his son; while among the most natural are Thackeray’s. By the way, Thackeray once said, ‘ There is, perhaps, no greater test of a man's reg ularity and easiness of conscience than his readiness to face the postman.” Dickens was a past master in the art of j letter writing. He evjer wrote as if he j were speaking face to face to his corre spondents. His letters for the most pa'* were brief and without warning came \o a close. He seemed to follow the wise ob servation of Sain Weller. When Sam was l reciting the “walentine” to his father the latter objected to its abrupt ending, whereupon Sam remarked. “That’s the werry art of letter writin’ it makes* you vish there was more.” Among the most charming letters published in modem times are those written by Robert Louis Stevenson. They are bright, witty, de scriptive, informing and full of matters of general interest, notwithstanding the long continued ill health of the writer. Stevenson labored under one disadvan tage, however, in the w riting of his stories and letters. He never knew how to spell correctly. With how vast a multitude of j people did he stand! How few' correct spellers are there! I knew a president of I a w’ell known college who could not spell. I Bad spellers are wont to say that good ' spelling is a gift. But it is not. Good ! spelling betokens early training and at- ; tention to simple rules that are accessible i to all. Sidney Colvin, in his Life of Louis Stevenson, quoting Stevenson, says, “According to his own account, he was alike at school and in college, an incorriglbile idler and truant.” I dare not say this of all bad spellers; but I do say, from my observation of many years, that the bad speller in school and college days w'as inattentive to rules on spelling and grew up careless of them; or, per haps, he lacked the opportunity to attend school where correct spelling Is taught. The racography of some letters that one receives excites an emotion of astonish ment close akin to a shock. But there is one thing that must be said, namely: No one thinks the second time of the mis takes in spelling made by one who is loved. Love too highly appreciates the writer and the missive to notice errors. Love is blind to the faults of friendship, indeed, love finds no faults in the lover. There are many letters that have been given to the reading world that express in a superlative degree what the Greeks called lakonikos, and what we rail la conic. A laconism Is a short, concise, pithy phrase or sentence. Samuel Foote, a celebrated wit and comedian of his day, received an appeal from his mother for pecuniary aid. The note read, "Dear Sam, I am in prison. Come and assist your lov ing mother. E. F." Sam, unfortunately, had likewise been imprisoned for debt, and wrote, "Dear Mother, So am 1; which prevents his duty being paid to ids loving mother by her affectionate son. S. PY' There was, in the time of Garrick, a celebrated actor by the name of Quin, Garrick’s triumphs in London had an gered Quin, so he removed to Bath. De siring to make an engagement a little later in London, he wrote to John Rich, manager of Covent Garden theatre, thus: "I am at Bath. Yours, James Quin.". To this laconic note Rich replied, "Stay there, and be d—. Yours, John Rich." Love of the laconic cost a worthy Ala bamian his office under the United Stahes government some years ago. I refer to S. Dinsmore, at that time collector of the port of Mobile. He received a letter from W. H. Crawford, 'Secretary of the Treasury, at Washington, which read, "This department is desirous of knowing how far the Tombigbee river runs up You will please communicate the Infor mation." Dinsmore received the Secre tary’s note and answered. ‘Sir, I hawj the honor to acknowledge the receipt ot "Vour letter of the 15th ult., and of in forming you in reply that the Tombigbee does not run up at all." In a few days Dinsmore received the following letter from the Treasury department at Wash-' ington, "Sir, I have tho honor to inform you that this department has no further services for you ms collector of Mobile Respectfully, \V. II. Crawford" ThD correspondence took plm« In iv22. Tit? poet Rogers Invited a ce'.eiirate.* wit to take breakfast with him, in ih< «• word.* "Will you breakfast with m*- mmnnow 1 S. It." The reply was, ‘‘Won’t I •' l! i» T. ord Berkeley wrote to his friend, .My dear Dorset, I have just married, and am the happiest dog alive. Berkeley." Tic: answer was, “My dear Berkeley, every dog has his day. Dorset." A teacher In a public school received this explana tion of the absence of one of her pupils "Dennis wasn’t at school because the goat eat up the seat of his pan Is and that's egcuse enuff, God knows." Many letters are written that should never be posted. Butler, in IJudibras, says: “Full oft have letters caused the writers To curse the day they were indlters.” Some of them were written In anger, the pen being dipped into vitriol. Some ac complish nothing but the gratification of one’s temper. I have written letters at night which I have been glad to destroy in the morning. T have posted letters In haste, and sorrowed that I could not re call them. Before a tart letter is an swered, a man should be in perfect com posure of mind and master ot himself. A man came to the postmaster of a city and begged that a letter which he had dropped into a. box be returned, lie was required to Identify the letter. Jt was handed back to 1dm. Whereupon be tore It to pieces and scattered it to the winds, the while saying, “Ah, I’ve preserved a friend." The letter had been written | in n condition of irritation, and was un- I Just. Better is it, by far, that one de* I Jay answering1 a letter that wounds or excites temper. The queen's advice to Hamlet, in the play, may he heeded as one holds tho letter that has cut to tlie quick: "• * * O gentle son, rpnn the heat and Ha me of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience." A few days ago Henry Watterson, in an editorial on William Howard Taft, said, "ilfll is fill 1 of desecrated friend ships," and doubtless the hasty, over healed letter is responsible for most of these desecrations. Therefore, before writing I he letter that your hot blood sug gests. hear and heed old Ben Jenson's advice in "Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue,’* "Great friend and servant of the good. " ‘Great friend and servant of the good, I.et cool a while thy heated blood." Do you answer your letters? Which letters? I mean all of them. Your let ters from the old home and the dear ones there are chiefly meant now. Your let ters from father, mother and sister, come to you now and then. Do you answer them? And those letters from old friends of the long ago years, do you answer them? Ah, retain your old friendships. Keep in touch with those who have known you long arid love you well. Friendships are not formed every day. The older yon ret the fewer friends you will make. You may moke acquantances, but friends are of growth. Old friends who honor you with their loving epistolary remem brances are to be prized, and letters aru next to a hand clasp. Write fo them. [ close this desultory contribution s«t *■ Tom Moore ended the sixth letter of tM Fudge Family in Paris. Said Phil Fudge, Esq.: "Goodby. My paper’s out so nearly, I've only room for-Yours sincerely.'* HEART TO HEART TALKS—By James A. Edgerton THE dream of my life lias been to voice the essential teachings of the Nazarene In newspaper English, to do this as I would wlrte of any other Subject, an editorial or news story, for example, and without pretense, theology or cant. I still''have thlsfrdream, and some day I am going to make It come true. Today the newspaper Is the avenue of universal appeal. In a sense It Is the peo ple's pulpit. Today the need of the world In every department ot oirr life Is the spirit of these, same teachings. We need it In politics, In business, In Industry, In the school, In the home and In the hearts of the people. The promulgation of these essential truths Is not the monopoly of any Insti tution or calling. The teachings of the Nazarene are the common property of humanity* Neither are they something apart from our everyday affairs. They are woven Into the very texture of our life. They aro the essence of modern de mocracy. They are the very cornerstone of Amer icanism. They are alive with the spirit of lib erty. They are as truth loving as modern science. They are the loftiest common sense. In spirit. If not in words, they recog nize the fact that perfect Individuality and brotherhood go together; that they complete and rhlflll each other. Now and then It Is necessary for a peo ple to go back to the fountain of their Inspiration, to find the springs from which flowed the stream of their national life, to revive their ancient literature and traditions, to renew their spirit and espe cial genius. Ireland went 'through such a process in the Gaelic renaissance. It marvelously awakened tfoc land, even reviving her In dustries. The springs of our inspiration are the teachings of the Nazarene. He was the first democrat, the reformer, the apostle of brotherhood, of peace, of liberty of conscience, of the gospel of service. Would It not be a great thing If we could go back to tills fountain to renew the spirit of our Institutions? Here Is a work for newspapers as mold ers of public opinion. Back to the fountain! Back to the Kasarznet President Wilson In his latest book tells the story of "Alice Through the 1-ooking Glass." The red chess queen, seizing Alice by the hand, started oft at a terrific pace. After they had run until both were out of breath Alice looked around and cried In surprise, "Why, we are just where we were when we start ed." "Oh, yes," replied- the queen, "you have to run twice as fast as that to get anywhere else.” This age moves rapidly. Each one of us runs as fast as he can, but finds he has kept only his same relative position. Wc have to run twice as fast as that to gain on the procession. Progress is the key word of the twen tieth century and especially of twentieth century America. There Is progressiveness In politics. In dustry. science, religious thought, ethics, psychology and the humanities. Are you and I keeping up? Are we pro gressing in our own especial lines? Are we abreast of the best thought of the age? Are the windows of our .souls open to the new light? Are we hospitable to the. new Ideas? The human race Is traveling as It never traveled before. Those of us who com pare the mileposts of the past with those of the present believe Its course Is on the up grade. Are we as Individuals keeping the pace’ We cannot stand still. Standing still is going backward. Progress does not tear down. It Is evo lutionary rather than revolutionary. li follows the same direction we have been going, but advances. When Moses complained to the Lord he received an answer that w~« at once an incentive and a rebuke: "Why crlest thou unto me? ,Speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward." Progress ‘comes nht to destroy, but to fulfill. ’ It develops and completes the ii etltutlons at hand. The Emperor Titus counted that day lost on which he had not done a good deed. We should count that day lost on which wc have not gained ground. The word is "Forward!" The above is the title of a new book by President Wilson, His dominant idea is that business should be emancipated and the avenues of opportunity opened to all men as they were In our early history. There Is a new freedom that Is yeti wider. In the past we have lieen slaves to many tilings that could have been ban ished by a proper exercise of reason and will power. We have been slaves lo Ignorance. In this age of public and private schools, colleges, universities, libraries, newspapers, magazines, public lectures, churches, study clubs, instructive enter tainments and the thousand and one other agencies for imparting Information and culture there is no excuse for any hu man being to remain in ignorance. In telligence is the great emancipator. The truth shall make us free. We have been slaves to prejudice. Prejudice is but another name for nar rowness, for lack of information, ./or pro vincialism, for egotism, for the absence of. sympathy and understanding. If the prejudice is against a person it would (probably be dispelled if we knew this per son better. If it is against soma new idea it usually argues that we hava not advanced sufficiently- to see what this idea means. In any case it hurts only ourselves. It but advertises our own lim itations. We should ever be open to the truth and accept it from whatever source it comes. We have been slaves to our appetites. The appetites have a lamelicent func tion. They are given us for the preserva tion of our individual lives and the life of the race. Wo should usd1 them with temperance and sanity for these func tions. Beyond this we should Ira free from them. They have no power over us except what we ourselves give them. Rightly controlled they contribute to our own happiness and do not Interfere with (he happiness of others. The body should be a servant, not a master. We have been slaves to false habits, to imaginary ailments, to real ailments that could have been overcome by tight think ing, will power and correct living. The hour of our emancipation has come, and we are our own liberators. The sovereign spirit of mail Is too big for such petty bondage. Come tip into the free air and let the self Imposed shackles drop away. How much we owe mankind! Every hero that died for liberty died for you and me. Every martyr who gave his life to keep the faith was a sacriflco for ua. - -m Every scientist who devoted his years to patient investigation added to our light. Every soldier who fought for righteous ness helped to carve out the civilization we enjoy. We are the heirs of all these men. They toiled for us, planned for us, agonized for us. When we think of the infinite pairft by which our institutions w'ere built up, that human blood was used for the mortar between all the stones In the temple of our civilization, that the heights on which we dwell were erected out of the bodies of men, as the coral isle is made up of the animalcula of the sea, we are stag gered by the obligation placed upon us. How can we ever tell our gratitude to those who thus gave their all for our happinees? The thought implants in us a reverence for our institutions and a desire to be very loyal to society. Its rules were made for our benefit. Even though sometimes defective, as human institutions are apt to be, they yet are necessary until something better can be put In their stead. Our peace, prosperity, liberty, enlight enment, security; our inventions, scientific knowledge, philosphy, religion, art, liter ature; our schools, clubs, churches, great cities, beautiful villages, railroads, steam ships, ocean cables, wireless, aeroplanes, comforts, conveniences—all these and other blessings are tree gifts to us. They have been patiently wrought for us through the long ugeS of the past. All that is asked of *Js in return is that we use them to the best advantage; that *te do not abuse or ruthlessly destroy these precious - inheritances. If we W'ere keenly •sensitive of all that has been done in our behalf we would never rest easy one moment unless wo were doing for others. Humanity has placed on us a debt of sacred honor. This debt we must repay to humanity. From many sources comes the cry that there is something the matter with Amer ica—that the natiof is sick. What is the trouble? Without going into the political phases of the subject, is not one of the sources our difficulty something like this? We have failed properly to distinguish between public and private. .We have permitted private considera tions to influence us in our public action. Government with us has been too much a matter .of private arrangements, of deals between special interests. We have got to write that word “PUBLIC" large before the eyes of all the people. We need more public spirit, more pub licity in things that affect the nation. We need a new motto that will run something like this: The man who permits a private consid eration to influence him in the perform ance of a public duty is a traitor to the public. Nor should this motto be for officials alone. It should be kept before the eyes of every voter in the land. True standards will not obtain among those in office so long as false standards are accepted by those out of office. We must take our public spirit with us to the ballot box. We must use if in reviving the old fashioned public meet ings, in which men of the neighborhood discussed tlie questions of the day. Government is not a matter of private favers. Its only legitimate field is the good of all. % The man who holds to some party be cause he expects an office from that party is actuated by a private consideration in the performance of a public duty. The man who supports those who will give him a special privilege is as much a corruptionist as the floater who sells his vote. We must learn to separate our private interests from our public responsibilities. We must have a viaibn of the public good. The laws of nature treat all alike. The laws of man should afford the same equal treatment. *A public office is a public trust." Government is not a matter of favor ites. of < lasses, of patronage or of privi lege. It is a matter of justice. It is of all, by all and for all. Three prime requisites are needed for success in this age. The first is ener gy. The second is faith. The third is vision. Never did the future so call to the spirits of men as now. It holds out an alluring prospect.of the progress of the world. Vision is needed to see the mighty things Hi store. The men who win in a big way are ' those who dare. This does not mean 1 recklessness, but the very opposite. It means the ability to plan a campaign, the quick understanding to perceive how the plan will work out and the courage to take a chance. Recklessness is blind, but the lead ers required for the work of the world, for the great enterprises, must bo any thing but blind. They must know the psychology of men and be able in some degree to read the future. This reading of the future requires no clairvoyance or second sight. That ! which is to come is seen by the light of that which has gone. The currents of the world are perceived; the proba bilitiies are taken into account; the chances are worked out to as near a mathematical exactitude as that is pos sible. , The winner is the one who banks on future progress in an intelligent way, who so shapes his affairs that he will profit by this progress, who looks ahead. Knowledge is required. We must know our business down to the last de tail, know it so that it becomes a habit of thought. imagination Is also necessary. With our knowledge of the business, of the trend of the times and of human na-4 ture, we must build the picture of that which is to be. The successful chess player is lid j who plans many moves ahead. He knows in advance how to meet any ! possible attack. The young man who is wise in this day looks to the future more than to the past, or if he studies the past it is only that he may better know the future. He does not take up a profession that is on the wane, but one that is growing, and ho grows with it. Who can measure the marvelous strides that humanity will take in the next 25 or 50 years? Think how this development will call for men! Kven now big employers will tell you that there is a dearth of $10,000 men. Imagine how much greater the chances for such men will be with the expand ing enterprises of the next generation. The young man who has (he right stuff In him, who is keen, ambitious and alive to his opportunities, who lias energy, faith and vision, will pre pare himself to meet this demand. lie will hear the cull of the future. The Kats Took Possession From the Milwaukee Sentinel. Rats, like many other animals, will show fight if completely cornered, and on several occasions men have been com pelled to put up a heroic fight for their protection, and in a few Instances have had to leave the field of conflict and permit the rats to hold the fort. An Interesting story comes from a little town on the Ohio river where a citizen had been annoyed by rats until ho secured a trap that would catch the rats alive. He set his trap and caught about eight full grown fellows that, had been de ploying fruit in the cellar. Desiring to get rid of them as easily as possible, and having heard drowning was an easy death, he decided to drown the rats in the river. Tie carried the trap full of rats to the river and, placing them In a skiff, he rowed to near the middle of the stream, where he proceeded to get rid of the • rats. Jle opened the door of the trap and' shook the eight rats into the stream. Hi1 was about to start for shore when he saw one of tile rats climbing up the side of the skiff. He undertook to knock it buck in the river, when he saw others climbing into the boat, and almost before he realized what was happening the whole lot of rats were with him in the boat. He attempted to drive them out, and went after them pretty roughly, but was com pelled to desist in a few moments, and not only cease trying to drive the crea tures overboard, but was compelled to quickly leave his skiff and seek safety In the water. Ti»e man was no swimmer, and at first held on to tnu e:ige of the boat, but he was compelled to release his hold and call for assistance, which happened to be near or ho might have perished. The boat containing the rats floated down stream, but was overtaken and the rats were ktHed with the oars of another boat before the owner dared get into the deserted boat. A number of stories are told of rats driving men from rooms or cellars where tliey were cornered and an effort w’ae being made to kill them in large num bers.