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I
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN AND NEWS,
SATURDAY, JUNE 22, 1)0T.
Sermon preached by Her. Richard Orme
IN THE HOUSE OF MY FRIENDS Fllnn at North Avenue Presbyterian church,
“I WAS WOUNDED IN THE HOUSE OF MY FRIENDS.”—ZECH. 13:6. Jan « >»■ *■>« pnbii.hcd by .peci.i roquet.
By REV.-RICHARD ORME FLINN,
PASTOR NORTH AVENUE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
L AST Saturday, after a week of
planning and preparation along
a chosen line, I was Impressed
that the contemplated theme was not
the one I should present on the mor
row, and furthermore, to my dircom
tlture I found, as I turned back to a
number of texts which had Impressed
me In the past, that not one of these
kindled me or appealed to me as suited
to the present. Finally, after again
laying the matter before Him for whom
I sought to apeak and asking His direc
tion, I went to my library, and took
from the shelf an old volume entitled
"Jay's Morning and Evening Exercises."
I turned to see what text he had
chosen to comment upon for June 16
and as soon as I found It I warmed to
It Immediately.
The text was In Zerhnrlah 12:6.
“What are these wounds In thine
hands? Then he shall answer: These
with which I wa* wounded In the house
of my friends." It was the latter part
of this verse that Dr. Jay considered,
"1 whs wounded In the house of my
friends."
Now, I am very well aware that there
Is a considerable difference among com
mentators concerning the reference of
these words, some denying and some
affirming their application, to Christ.
Though Dr. Jay recognises that their
primary meaning was not Messianic,
he treats them In relation to the Lord
because of their pertinency and historic
application. As I read I found him
asking, Is there any reason for this
lament on the part of the Master now?
Do any of those who are His friends to
day wound Him In their homes? And
to this he answers, Yes, and In this
They wonhd Him by neglect.
1. The world neglects Him—this, of
course, we expect, but, ah! his friends
neglect Him, too. Neglect Him In
that they do not attend upon the means
of grace that cost Him so much to
give: neglect Him In that they cease
the "assembling.of themselves together
as the manner of some Is." though He
Himself Invites them, designating both
the place and the day. Yes, they wound
Him by neglect,
, I. They wound Him by selflshnesa.
He was unselfish, utterly unselfish In
Hit service for them—but they?—too
often their own Interests, their own
pleasures and plans are moro precious
than His plensure or the prosperity of
His cause, and because they will not
sacrifice their means, their limes, their
plans for Him, and they wound Him
by their aolflshness.
I, They wound Him by their distrust.
This distrust Is manifest In that they
do not consult Him shout their plnns,
but leave Him out until their nffnlrs are
all entangled and then entreat Ills help,
and when He has helped He Is forgot
ten again until He again must be made
use of In a moment of need. They do
not trust Him In that they do not try
HIs way, commit themselves to His
leadership and boldly expect Him to
do for them what He has promised.
Yes, they wound Him by distrust.
4. He la wounded because of Ills
friends' timidity and cowardice. When
HIs name la scorned they are silent,
when they are ashamed of Him who
was for them ashamed of nothing.
When He who bore the scorning and
the howling of the mob muat now bear
the greater grief of silence on the part
of those whoso loyalty should make
them apeak—and thus He Is wounded
t by their timidity.
S. Ho Is wounded by tholr lack of
Joyousness. Tho sorrowful countenance,
melancholy look and mournful tone of
those who claim to be HIs friends do
not commend Him, and to the unknow,
tng world HIs friendship seems tedious.
He said, "My Joy I glvo unto you," but
when they fall to receive HIs gift and
are Joylsss, when their ltfo Is not ra
diant and gladsome, when thero Is no
wlnwmeness In them to awaken the
wonderment of the world, such as He
awoke when He walked among men.
then by their lack of Joyousness He Is
wounded by HIs friends.
6. He Is wounded because of Ills
friends' unholy conduct: by. the Con
trast of their life to HIs teaching; by
their living epistles hellelng HIs writ
ten epistles, so that the world Is con
fused and believes what they see and
hear rather '.San what He tells them.
By their Inconsistency He Is wounded
by HIs friends.
This Is about ths thought of Dr. Jay,
not In his own words, but in substance.
Now, my beloved, I do not know how
all this strikes you, hut as I read his
words they cut me to the heart and I
thought. Am I a friend of Jesus, and Is
It possible that I am wounding Him?
And then I fell to thinking about the
houses of Christ’s friends. I thought
my home Is one of these houses, I
havs Invited Him to come there and
abide, to be Its head, and I asked my
self, Is there anything In my home that
wounds my Friend? And then I thought
this. HIs church, Is the house of Christ's
friends, and I asked again. Is there
anything In this church that wounds
our Friend? And then I thought the
places where HIs people labor are the
houses of HIs friends, and I asked
again. Is thero anything In our busi
ness places that wounds Him? And
once more I thought, our hearts are
Chrlst’e abode, HIs temples. If Indeed
we ure Hie, and I wondered If there
was anything wo would allow—nay,
was there anything I waa allowing to
live In my heart—any ambition or any
unholy love or passion that would
wound Him?
Ah! beloved, ns I meditated along the
line which this Oodly man had suggest
ed all further expectation of preaching
a set sermon gave way to a desire that
I might alt together with you at the
Master's feet during the quiet of this
service and have un honest, frank,
heart-to-heart talk about the way we
are treating Him, while He searches
and shows iib If there Is anything, any.
where, In our hearts or homes that to
day Is wounding Him.
As I reached this decision and yielded
myself to the thought, a waking vision
passed before, me, and I want to say
very honestly that what 1 saw had ref
erence to n<> single person, but was a
great composite picture of tho Chris
tian world ns I knew It; of the church
ns I knew It, without reference to any
Individual. The vision was on this
wise:
Jesus having been oft Invited, decided
to romo to a home; He felt they must
want Him very much, for so many
times they had usked'for HIs preaenco
and blessing, and so, at last, He de
termines He will come and bo one with
them. It was on a Sabbath morning
very early. You remember when Ho
rose It was on Die Sabbath morning
very early, and so It was on a Sabbath
morning very early that In acceptance
uf their Invitation He enters their
abode. The house la quiet, for the
family retired late—very late—some of
them early on Sabbath morning not
long before He came, and ao they are
resting now In heavy slumber, worn
out by the weary week of work. As
He waits, the eervnnts also being slow
to assemble. He looks around. It 1s a
house of culture, refinement marks till
of Its appointments, evidently Intelli
gence Is a characteristic of Its Inhabi
tants. There are books appropriately
bound upon the shelves. Upon tho ta
bles are the current magaalnes; He
opens one of these. I see a blush man
tle the Master's face as I look, and I
recognise It as one of those sheets given
up to carnality, alas, too often found
In Christian homes, whose Illustrations
are such as that upon them Jesua,
“who Is of purer eyes than to behold
Iniquity," can not look.
He turns from the magazines to the
shelf. There, among other books, He
finds volumes handsomely bound, wrIN
ten by men who have scorned Him, re
viled Him and ridiculed HIs cause:
names that represent antagonism to
the truth, and yet these are the chosen
volumes In the house of HIs friends.
Yes, and the children of these friends,
whose minds will be Impressed by what
they read, have access to these books,
and thus He Is wounded.
Taming front the library. He looks
upon the walls. There He sees many
pictures of many kinds, some of Him
self and some—well, as I see Him look
ing I find Him wondering, even as we
have sometimes wondered, how It ever
came to pass that a heart that wgs In
touch with HIs and In full sympathy
could ever have chosen that picture;
and wondering again how a heart that
was In touch with Ills and that was
growing In grace and In the knowledge
of Him could ever keep that picture,
and then wondering likewise how a
heart that was seeking to live up to
the sublime standard of purity which
He commanded could ever hope to at
tain It If It kept or countenanced that
picture. This Is not all He eees. On
the table Is a pack of cardo and other
Implementa of the easy-going life that
so many of Hie children lead In this
eosy-golng age when there are no per
secutions to test them, and on the side
board In the breakfast room, which He
can see where He stands, are decan
ters filled with liquors. Yea In the
house of HIs friends—Just as they are
In the houses of those who care not
for Him.
As He eees these things and consid
ers what they mean, He wonders, since
thev are kept. If thiy who keep them
really cared and meant It when they
asked for HIs presence and HIs bless
ing.
After a while tbe family assembles.
It is the hour of breakfast. One after
another they come In. He waits to
hear them breathe the blessing be
speaking their gratitude for the morn,
Ing portion. It may bo that the thing*
Ho has noticed that have hurt Him do
not represent them—they were mere
excrescences, accidents If you please, as
the spirit of HIs friends now will shojv
—and so He stands ready In order that
at the giving of thanks and breaking
of the bread He may reveal Himself
to them as He did to the two at the
meal who walked with Him to Em-
maus. He waits,, but there Is no pause,
no silence, no bowed heads, the
are upturned, the meal begins,
gifts are received, the Glvecls forgot
ten, He receives no thanks, and Christ,
the Invited guest. Is Ignored. Do you
wonder then that He Is unrevealed and
unknown, and that He Is wounded In
the house of Ills friends?
The meal Is over. The blessing has
been dispensed with this morning, but
surely this was because at tho close
of the meal tho family, together with
the servants, will gather at the altar,
where the father will open the Hook
and rend the lesson and commend them
all to Cod. What a blessed time He
will have with them.
As they read He will take the pre-
ulaus truths and reveal their Import to
them. He will make them understand
so that their hearts shall burn; yes,
so that the llttl^ children and tho older
onoa alike ahall catch a vision, a vision
which shall last through life, and shall
lure them from sin and lead them on
lit virtue, when the parent'o voice Is
stilled by death. But they do not thus
assemble; Instead the father goes
forth, not to search the Scripture, but
to pore ever the Sabbath paper, nr.d
the children too—they look for tho
pictured page that Interests them, nnd
Jesus and the Sabbath are forgotten
and Ha Is wounded In the house of Ills
friends.
Hut surely all will not thus employ
this sacred day. Some certainly will
seek tho sanctuary. Yes, this Is true.
REV. RICHARD ORME FLINN.
These hurry off to make ready. He
goes with them, leaving the others who
care not for Him and are ao evidently
cut'of touch with all He Is und repre
sents. He goes with them that He
may kneel beside them as they kneel
to commit themselves to God Jn quiet,
unhurried prayer before they go forth to
teach or hear. Yes, He Is going to en-
ten Into the closet with these, that as
they speak He may answer, and as
they ask He may help and so equip
and enkindle them that they may be
ready and ablaze even before the ser
vice ahall begin. But no. He cannot
do thle, they do not let Him. They
do not take time for prayer, the time
le spent Instead In dressing. In unnec
essary toilet preparation that they may
be seen of men. They stand before
the mirror made of glass, but not be
fore the mirror which shows the Inner
man on which Qod looks, the mirror
which Indicates alone where conduct
needs correcting. Their Bible Is un
opened, the communion Is omitted, and
He Is wounded In tho house of HIs
friends.
Sad and grieved the Lord goes forth
from thle home whore Ills friends
abide, to the home where His friends
are wont to worship. As He enters
what does He see? I shrink when I
begin to think what the Master sees,
for I remember that He seeth not as
you soe nor as I see, but He sees oil
that Is passing In Ills people's hearts
and minds. Surely In the sanctuary
the worldliness which, alas, too often,
fills the thought and mars the lives of
HIs friends, will be put away. Here
on the Sabbath at the hour of service,
they will give themselves over to sol
emn, heart-searching, and to humblo
penitence, to seeking nfter Him, to con
fesslon and to prayer. They will be
early at the sanctuary that they may
quiet themselves for tho service. But
no, az the service begins but few nro
present Tho others continue to nrrlve
fiom time to time through all the car-
lit r exercises. Presently there Is a
pause—HIs friends are about to pre
sent their gifts to Him. The Lord Is
Interested In this. When on earth He
feed to stand over against the treas
ury to see how men east In their gifts;
not because He needed their gold, but
because the measure and the manner
of their giving was a test and a token
of their love, and He who knows the
heart, and knows what He has given
unto each of worldly goods. Is pleased
or Is insulted by their manner here.,
Tell me, as He stands over against our
treasury and watches, knowing what
we keep and what we give. Is It- possi
ble that we ever wound Him thus In
this house of prayer?
The sermon begins. HIs servant Is
delivering HIs message. Are Ills friends
Interested In what He thus would
teach them? Their faces will not show,
so He looks Into their hearts. What Is
It that He eeea? A readiness, nay,
eagerness, to hear, a hunger for the
truth, a sweet sympathy with the her
ald of the gospel which enables them
to catch the Import of tho message,
however poorly his faltering lips speak
it, welcoming It andYipplylng It as from
the Lord to them? Or can It be that
He sees Indifference or mere tolerance,
or even an unsympathetic Impatience
—a spirit of criticism and contempt as
though the message were merely man’s
nnd the minister spake for himself?
And as the Inattention grows,.when He
searches to see what are these thoughts
which to them are more appealing than
these thoughts of God and heaven and
doty. He finds one man busy with h|s
business, planning for the morrow and
the week; a woman with reverential
demeanor scanning her neighbor's hat
or frock, considering the harmony of
colors and the suitableness of the pat
terns as she designs the costume she
will soon begin, and here another re
membering yie last bit of scandal they
have heard about the man or woman
who sits beside them or before them.
And then. If Ihe service Is at nil pro
tracted even their faces show their
discontent and eagerness to be gone.
The service seems tedious and Intoler
able. This place of prayer Is Irksome,
even though for the most- part they
will not enter It again for the entire
week. The time consumed In this one
assemblage seems a sacrifice too great
and attention to the message too diffi
cult. Need we ask If by such an atti
tude aa this He Is wounded In the house
of HIs friends?
But Is It fair to test Hla people by
their Inattention In the sanctuary?
Perchance the service le a dull one.
the minister having nothing new, but
merely the old, old gospel of which
they have grown tired, as they have
heard It from his lips so oft. The real
proof of their devotion Is obedience to
HIs commands, to the command which
He had given—that they should love
one another, so that all men might
know thorn as HIs friends. As He sees
their heart, does He find this love?
The charge has been made against HIs
church that It has drifted so far afield
from HIs vision and HIs plan that HIs
people do not love one another with that
Intimate personal love that makes their
cheeks burn when one of their number
falls or falls. It has been said that
the church now Is more like a hotel
than a home, having become merely a
place where people gather for spiritual
diet and rest, even as they gather at a
hotel for these. Now, os He lpoks upon
the church, does what He see refute or
confirm this charge? Does He find HIs
« living as a family of which He
center and head and of which
they are tho Integral parts, each one
Intimately Interested with each and all
the others, or are they, according to
the charge, but a mere religious club, a
congregation, people thrown together
who have become somewhat acquainted
and affiliated through association In a
way like unto those who take suburban
trains and know one another and have
common Interests, and who occasionally
co-operate to accomplish certain com
mon purposes, but who are not one aa
He le One with the Father? My be
loved, you mtist answer whether or not
In this case He Is wounded In the house
of Hie friends.
On the way home from the church,
what does the Master hear? Do the
parents talk over the service with the
children, as did the parents In Scotland,
of the saintly Patton (the great mis
sionary to the New Hebrides), when
coming from the ktrk to their cot, they
discussed—mind you they did not dis
sect, but discussed—the sermon, so that
not only their sympathy with the min
ister was manifest, but their sympathy
with the truth he sought to teach, and
so that, by taking the beet, by catching
what he meant rather than what he
said, and by Illustration, amplification
and application, the message waa il
lumined and Indelibly Impressed upon
their own nnd their children’s hearts?
Does He hear this or doe* He hear—
nothing? That Is, nothing of the serv
ice, or If It la discussed, nothing but
criticism of the music, of the minister,
tolerant If not unkind and disparaging,
but enough, at any rate, to dissipate
the Impression, prejudice the hearer
and alienate the thoughtless and wound
the Master—their Friend?
Instead of going to the church house,
suppose the Master had looked In on a
Sabbath morning at the business
houses of HIs friends. He would have
found them there, many of them, open
ing their mail, arranging their busi
ness, and with them He would have
found young men. Influenced by their
employers' example to disregard God’s
day, the day their mothers have taught
them to observe, but which they now
fear to keep lost they lose out and for
feit their positions. As He finds these
men thus employed on Hla holy day,
so that HIs message la not heard or
heeded. I wonder If the Master Is
pleased, or If He Is wounded In the
house of HIs friends.
And then, when the Master looke
over the ledger, when He considers the
business method and - reckons up the
reasons why certain policies are fol
lowed Instead of others, and hears the
argument that others do it and we will
lose If we do It not, I wonder It the
Master, who lost everything and who
sacrificed all that He might be true to
God, and whose associates were such
brave, true men as that they gave up
their business and their homes, and at
last their lives, that they might keep
faith with Him—I wonder whether to
day In the homes of His friends, the
business homes, our Master would be
wounded?
And then. If the Lord goea home to
dinner with one of Hla friends from
church, I wonder If He would feel quite
comfortable there on the Sabbath day?
Everything le elaborate. The servants
are tired. They have tolled all the
morning to make tho repast' ready.
They have sacrificed their sabbath for
the feast, and as the Master thinks
on this I find Him wondering why we
are wondering how it Is that our serv
ing class seems to be growing more
and more dissolute, less and less re
ligious, showing more and more a spirit
of worldliness and intemperance, and
less and less such an Interest In spir
itual affairs as the old uncles and
aunties we knew as children showed,
And I believe as He thinks of how HIs
friends make their servants toll on thle
day concerning which He taught thou
s halt-do no unnecessary labor, tbou nor
thy manservant, nor thy maidservant,
nor even thy cattle, I fear that this
feast does not delight Him, but rather
Ho Is wounded In the house of HIs
friends.
And think of what He will hear aa
He gathers with ths other Invited
guesta at the table during this hour of
feasting and festivity. Do we wonder
He Is wounded as He listens to the
light, the frivolous and the worldly
conversation that fills the time? Cer
tainly it Is not like the table talk In
which Hie disciples used to engage
when He met them In the homes of
HIs friends of old.
Tho afternoon comes and the family
scatter, the young men to pay tholr so
cial obligations, or to start their jour
ney for which they are not willing to
tako time from their business, but for
which they must needs wait for the
Lord's day; the young women to re
ceive a gay and careless crowd- thi
older ones to read—to read what? w«
do not say—we feel almost that th«
Master Is ashamed to look—but not ths
Bible whatever else It Is, for this day
which He hath given In which to h«
come familiar with Hla bleseed hook
Is not thus employed. Oh. of course
It may be taken up listlessly, for a mo'
ment, but the spirit of the book Is so
out of harmony with the spirit of the
hour that It la Boon set aside that other
theme* may claim the attention Wt
see the Master leaving the home. Ha
Is not wanted here, why should Ha
stay? Ho goes to a resort. Hie friends
are going, why ahouldn’t He? He gw*
that He may see why they go, and finds
they are there that they may forget,
that they may bo diverted, and yet He
has given them this day In order that
they may consider and meditate, that
they may consecrate It to an earnest
Becking after Him.
As the evening falls He turns back
again, sad-hearted, and seeks HIs sanc
tuary. Surely after thle day of riot
will come repentance and a seeking
after God. He waits—a few Come In
but the many are missing and the ab
sence of Hla friends at this trystlng
S lace, at this appointed hour, wounds
!lm again. Standing on the church
steps He sees the cars go post—crowd,
ed—with HIs friends—going to places
He cannot with them abide, going to
these places past Ills well-nigh empty
churches where He awaits them—end
He Is wounded In the house of HIs
friends.
But le there no comfort for the Mas.
ter? Are there nothing but wounds?
Yes, He sees Into the hearts of many
true love and faith and trust—yea, and
grief. Grief for their own lack of lova,
their lack of loyalty, their lack of pas
sion, and grief that this lack In them-
selvea prevents them from arousing the
others whom they love and honor to a
loyalty to Christ.
My brethren, aa this vision passed
before me, and I began to think about
the little ones In our homes—the little
ones who need so much to know Him
and to love Him as their friend—I be
gan to wonder what heritage this man
ner of life we lead today will leave
them.
I have two precious boys In my horns
who need to know Him, yes and to
love Him, and I would have Him there
that they might know Him so well and
love Him so well that when they come
to years when they must choose when
I am gone, they may choose aright, as,
attracted by this friend, they turn with
scorn and contempt from the hellish al
lurements which I know the world Is
going to offer. May I hope that Hs
will abide ae a friend In my home, and
that they will know him?
There were homes where He used to
abide when He was here among men,
and I asked myself, were Ho here to
day la my home such a home as He
would seek? But why ask this? Christ
Is among men now. He Is among them
more Intimately than when In the body,
and He Is unchanged, the same rasters
day, today and forever. What then at.
traded Him attracts Him now. What
wounded him then will wound Him
now. Does my home attract Him as
did that home In Bethany of old? Yes,
more, does my heart attract him? Does
yours? Can He moke therein HIs
homo? Is there anything In my life of
In your life that wounds the Master?
Is there anything left oat of it that ths
Master misses? Is there anything left
In It that Is offensive to our friend?
These were the thoughts that came
to me In my waking vision, and I fell
that I could do nothing bettor than
Just to talk with you about them. Ths
question has gripped me and may God
grant that It may likewise grip you,
for the question has helped mo and
therefore I believe It will help you, and
so I tell you.
THE CRIME AGAINST THE CRIMINAL
By REV. EVERETT DEAN ELLENWOOD,
PASTOR UNIVERSALIST CHURCH
I N the beautiful prayer given to the
world by Jesua, which tins be
come the common property of
divided Christendom, there appears one
petition with a qualifying clause, or,
ft may be said, the Imposition of a
.condition, for the assurance of fulllll-
nitnt. And this petition 1* undoubt
edly one of the moat vital of the entire
prayer, for what aoul Is there whose
secret Inner consciousness recognises
not the continual need of forgive
ness? As soon aa man had developed
a trustworthy conscience, as soon ns
Mother Eve'* fabled transgression hod
given to tho rocs the knowledge of
good and evil, man had arrived at the
necessity for pafdon, und It Is a press
ing need which shall never cease, this
aide of spiritual perfection.
"As We Forgive."
And. though man's moral and tntel-
•lutual growth, from infancy toward
maturity, brings him In time to the
aaving realization that forgiveness
does not accomplish remission of pen
Uly, lest that moral growth be there
by seriously halted, yet. Inspired by
tie purified and ennobled spiritual per
ception. he craves genuine forgive
ness the more* sincerely and strives
more earnestly for Its attainment.
When a man has been led to under
stand that forgiveness Is merely on-
bther name for the soul's realisation of
that "peace of God which paaseth all
understanding,” ha then know* that It
Is a condition of the spiritual man
which Is distinctly apart from any
consideration of retributive justice.
And then It Is that he begins to dis
trust and reject as worse then use
less theology's frantic efforts to es
cape the penalty whose seed every sin
sows for Inevitable reaping. Also It
becomes true that the Individual who
has learned the true nature of for
gtvenees understands that Jrsus slm
ply stated a spiritual fact, as certain
and as demonstrable as any scientific
fact, when He admonished HIs follow
ers to hope for forgiveness only ns
their hearts entertained the forgiving
•pint. There Is a well known and uni
versally recognized principle In phys
ics that two separate bodies cannot
occupy tbe same portion of apace at
the same period of time, and the law
is as certain In psychics as It Is In
physics. The heart which Is em
ployed with thoughts of Onger, hatred,
malice, or schemes for revengo against
any offender, real or hypothetical, Is
absolutely unable to experience the In.
expressible Joy of full forgiveness, for
the heart reaolutely refuses to simul
taneously entertain guests so very un
like and so very Inharmonious It Is
an absolute certainty that we cannot
be forgiven until we have first for
given.
Society's Unforgiving 8piriL
It seems not so extremely difficult
for us to recognise this universal law
of forgiveness, and to strive for [sure
end happiness through our obedience,
so tong as the field of Its application
la Immediate and Individual. But,
when the field of forgiveness brosdens
Into the social conscience ns we have
It represented In tho ethics of the ag
gregation of Individuals which we call
society, we find that actual forgiveness
Increase! In difficulty of accomplish
ment. Aa individuals we find ourselves
able, without serious difficulty, to truly
forgive the morel weakling, whose tm-
mt dials exigency or whose unfortunate
heredity and environment have con
tributed to make ot him an offendor
ngulnst our person* or our property.
As Individuals, aggregated Rnd become
society, though we may forgive and
even entirely forgot tho offense, we
sesin to be unable to ever fully forgive
the offender, no mntter how complete
may be his expiation. And we find
that society's spirit of unforglveness
Is particularly and grievously persist
ent, whenever It has been found nee
cssary to punish the offender by In
enreeration Instead of by fine, end he
t.ns consequently been labeled a crimi
nal.
The Crime Against ths .Criminal.
It may hs that It is because the nor
mal human heart holds liberty ae Its
chief boon, thut wo are so very prone
to hold ns forever accursed the mun
or woman whoso liberty has, through
transgression, been at some time, tem
porarily fot felted to tho state. Or It
may be that the cruel crime which so
ciety pers'sts In committing against
the criminal Is one of ths dliect results
of un ugo-long and stubbornly tena
cious theological error. Indeed thero
ore many reasons to believe that till*
may be the case. It must be true that
our Ideas and belters concerning God,
do, as a natural consequence, Intluence
cur Individual deportment and our
treatment cf our fellow men. History
quite substantially proves the correct
ness of this theory. A belief In a cruel
and vindictive Ood makes cruel and
vindictive men. Belief In a God whose
punishments are conceived In a spirit
ot wrath and In a desire for revenge,
must make a race of men entertaining
correspondingly distorted Ideas con
cerning tho function and office of pun
lahment. Likewise, a belief In a God
whose cruel and vindictive punish
ments are continued endlessly, must
give to the long suffering world a so
ciety whose punishment of offenders
Is erroneously conceived, administered
with hideous cruelty, and continued to
that extent that defeats Its very ob
ject Therefore, It Is certainly not un
just Hint, along with the already suffi
ciently large list of crimes against civ
ilization, which may reasonably be
urged to "the old-time religion,” we
must also bold It responsible, to u very
Urge extent, for the constantly repeat
ed crimes against rrtmlnnls which
semettmea make our much vaunted
twentieth century civilisation seem
like a hollow mockery, and Indicate
that our bravest attempts at a science
of penology are hardly more thnn an
anachronism.
But, tie the unhappy cause what It
society does not forgive the criminal.
No matter how genuine may be his re
pentance, nor how abundantly practical
may be the evidences of that repent
ance which he may offer to the world,
society never allows him to free him
self entirely from the srara of hie sor
row and hit humiliation, nnd, when
ever opportunity conveniently offers,
the old woufiris ere made to bleed
afresh, and the old horror end agony
of remorse once more flood hie chasten
ed soul. Whatever may be the private
theology of the Individuals who-com-
poso It, society undoubtedly practices
the doctrine of endless punishment In
her treatment of the released convict.
Unless he be a man of wealth and of
powerful social Influence, the persistent
persecutions of society make his return
to cltlsenshtp and to social usefulness
so exceedingly difficult a* to be the
constant despair of the criminologist.
He Is a social pariah. He is complete,
ly ostracized. When the prison doors
close behind him, he finds that nearly
every other door, save that of the sa
loon, the gaming house and the brothel.
Is closed In front of him. Small won
der that an large a percentage of re
leased convicts soon find themselves
again In the tolls of the law. Even a
criminal muat eat and be clothed, and
hare a place to rest hie wearied body
at night. And when the avenues to
REV. E. D. ELLENWOOD.
honorable employment art closed to
him, becuuse of the brutal prejudice
of his fellow-men, he la offered his
choice between virtuous starvation,
without even the delectable morsel of
human plaudit, or a return to the allur
ing pursuit of "easy money," which
lies along the well-remembered path
way back to the Institution where wait
long days of unrequited toll, the "lock
step,” the "rule of silence," the broken
spirit and the weakened body, the em
bittered soul and the prison pallor.
“And many there be who go in, there-
Who Mad* the Criminal?
In her eager zeal to properly and suf
ficiently punish tho offender, society Is
altogether too apt to forget that very
generally she Is simply dealing with
ono of her own natural products. Sta
tistics abundantly declare that there Is
a very close relation between poverty,
Insanitary tenements and Inhospitable
environment and crime. Long hours of
exacting labor nt the minimum wage,
unwholesome and Insufficient food, un
inviting homes, meager education and
lack of mental and spiritual stimulus
are proven producers of crime In men
und women whose ancestors, for sev
eral generations, have come Into the
world and passed through It thus con
ditioned and environed.
Also it seems more than likely that
the extravagant and vulgar display of
those who have acquired nothing in
this world, save money, may tend to
Induce crimes of jealousy, envy and
covetousness among those who, being
■inverted In the fine technicalities or
theoretical economics, lack the requi
site patience to wait the slow processes
of Inevitable Justice, and are filled with
sullen rage at the spectacle of the
shameful waste of the wealth for whose
creation they had been so ill requited’.
And so It is that society has bred for
herself a criminal class ot men and
women, who, being literally a curse to
themselves by their very existence^ be
come In turn a constant menace and
problem to their creator.
Punishment or Cure?
It U scarcely worth while to call at
tentlon to the errors which may seem
to be apparent In the body politic with
out offering suggestions for remedies.
The weary sufferer Is not greatly
helped by being Informed that hla mal
ady la Incurable, nor Is he made better
simply by being told that he Is ill. How
may society cure herself of her unfor
giving spirit toward the criminal, and
how may she turn her energies from
his destruction toward his reforma
tion? This is a deeply religious ques
tion, and It would therefore appear that
It* answer muit begin with theology.
Let us remedy our conceptions ot Qod,
THE WHINING WOMAN
• HHHMHMMMMHHIMMMIIItaHHMIMII
“Put a whining woman in tho Garden of Eden and she’d
have all the animals kicking and biting at each other
in five minutes.”
By DOROTHY DIX.
W
HAT Is the most aggravating
thing In married life?
Is It whining?
It It Isn't, a lot ot married men who
go to bed, and .get up, and live, to a
running accompaniment of walls and
groans from their wives, have missed
their guess.
"Ulve me a flirt, give me a red-head,
ed tartar, give me a bargain chaser,
give me a woman who doesn’t know
whether an egg ought to boll two min
utes or two hours, bring on your lec
ture platform ladles, nr your Lucrrsla
Gorgls who are handy with the poison
bottle, but* good Lord, deliver me from
the woman who whines," says the man
who Is married to the woman who ts
a real good. Industrious complalner.
She Is the Unfit. There might be
times when you could please a flirsj
or the bad cook might make poou
bread by accident, or the bargains run
out, or the high tempered woman’s
mood would be soft and melting, but
seasons for her own. Heaven Itself
won't please her If she has the luck to
get there, and every effort on the part
of the angels to cheer her up will be
Just so much lost motion.
"Oh. she's a good woman all right,
my wife I*. There Is never a button
missing on any of our clothes. The
house Is as clean us a new pin. Meals
are always on time. She does her duty
by us to the whole extent of the law,
but she does It with the expression of
an Early Christian Martyr being let! to
the stake, and the things that we hear
about the sacrifices she makes for us
make us wish that she'd Just eheerftllly
neglect us for a change.
"I'm rather a decent sort of man—a
gentleman. In fact—and It gives me the
most acute pain to even think of such
a thing as Injuring a woman In any
wav, and I assure, you, on my honor,
thnf If I had had the remotest Idea that
I was blighting a gifted young lady’s
life and ruining her career by asking
could have Induced me to commit such
a crime.
"Yet, that Is the monstrous deed that
fny wife Is continually Informing me
that I have been guilty of. If she hadn't
married me—If she had only remained
single, Instead of being the domestic
slave that she now Is, tied down to
grovelling pursuits by a home and fam
ily, she would be soaring aloft In the
blue empyrean of fame.
"1 don't know how she dopes It out
that if she hadn't married she could
have grabbed off a million dollars, ond
a laurel wreath, but she does, and the
result is that she Is a Blighted Being,
and she blames me for It, Mo and Fate.
"It doesn’t cheer her up any to re
mind her that she's got a swell home
and mighty fine children. As for the
children. It's all very well for me to
enjov them, but I’m not a mother, as
she Is, and don’t know a Mother’s Aw
ful Responsibility. It Just makes her
miserable to think that perhaps when
tho boy grows up he may smoke, nnd
then she sobs Into the baby’s pinafore
because It breaks Iter heart to think
that maybe the little one may some time
marry u man who will be unkind to
her.
"Her leng stunt In woo, however, Is
dissatisfaction. If I buy a 60-horse
power automohile she doesn't get the
slightest pleasure out of It, because the
Browns have an 80-horse power. If she
buys a silk dress phe’s perfectly miser
able. because It Isn't a velvet one like
Mrs. Jones'. If I give her a diamond
ring she weeps because It Isn’t a stom
acher like Mrs. Perkins’.
"Nothing please* her. She enjoy
enjoy anything. The echo of the quer
ulous complaint Is never out of my
ears, and spoils for me every good ot
life.
"Put a whining woman In the Oar-
den of Eden, and she'd have all tbe
nnlmnls kicking, and biting, and
scratching at each other In five min
utes. Marry a complaining woman
and she'll turn matrimony Into a howl.
Ing desert before you can say Jack
Robinson, and that's the reason that I
say that the whiner Is the most aggra
vating thing In married life."
Is this true, ladles?
. Apples From Australis,
From The New York Tribune.
Americans who trace their lineage
back to Adam and Eve and Inherit the
tastes of their distinguished ancestors
will be gratified to learn that a con
signment of a thousand barrels of ap
ples has Just been brought to New
York from Australia. On the other
side of the equator summer prevails
when winter Is In the ascendancy here.
Hence at the season when the domestic
supply is at a minimum it Is possible
to deliver 'In this country fruit which
was hanging on the trees only a few
weeks before. If the quality should be
above criticism and the prices not ex
orbitant a repetition of the venture
would be welcomed.
and we shall find that we have taken a
decided step toward effective prison re
form. If we can reach the point In out
theological thinking where we can un
derstand that Ood's punishments are
never conceived and executed In wrath
but always In love, that He never pun-
(shea HIs children simply because they
have sinned, but rather because they
have become sinners, that HIs chas
tisements are never administered te
satisfy outraged Justice, hut always te
effect a cure of the diseased moral na
ture, then we shall be In a fair way te
bring to the world that forglvenesi
which Is only possible to those who
have learned how to truly forgive. Fof
then, and then only, will It be that
society shall learn bow to truly forgive
those "who have trespassed again*]
her.” Then the keepers of our penal
ntay, the shameful fact remuln* that the complalner hat got all times and her to marry me. nothing on earth nothing, ami she never lets anybody fcsslons. 33.
The percentage of females employed
In four branches of labor In France
Is: Agriculture, 28; commerce. 35; do
mestic purpose*, ??, and learned pro-
instltutlons shall be trained erlmlnolo
gtsta Instead of politicians, and thl
scandals of our police etatione and out
penitentiaries shall cease. Then w«
shall demand that the punlahment ol
all offenders shall be Inevitable, effec
tive, humane and always directed en
tirely toward the task of reforming the
Individual, curing the dleeoio which
made tbe punlahment necessary, and
returning him to society. Inetead ol
the miserable Inefficiency of the parol*
system, after the prison sentence, wl
shall Insist upon the parole, before thl
more rigld*dieclpllne of the prison, nnc
■hall dlsTfover to our Joy and satisfac
tion that in the great majority of In
stances the prison sentence will not w
required. We will punish men, not be
cause they haVo committed crimes ana
deserve punishment, but because they
have become criminals and require m
be converted Into citizens. W# shah
recognise crime as a disease, ana oui
penal Institutions shall become morsJ
hospitals, instead of place* of torture
and degradation. Believing that hh
office Is remedial. Instead of mereij
punitlVe, we shall demand of the police
man that he bring to his work a stronl
and disciplined mind, and a humani
and cultured heart, rather than »»
over-abundance of beef and brutality.
Wa shall learn that we may hardiJ
expect one criminal to cur* another oi
hla moral defection, even though »
should happen that the stronger of tni
two be clothed In a blue coat with bra*
buttons and on official badge. W * *h*“
learn that the elemental nowardlci
which makes a bully of the roan wni
finds himself vested with authority.'*
one of the most deadly evils "in
which society has to cope.
And society, after all. Is nothing mori
nor less than the aggregation of ina
virtual* who make up a communitJ. or
nation. Each one of these Individual
possesses an ego with an Influence p
portlonato to Its exercise. The ouesjj;
of any needed public reform resolve*
Itself, therefore. Into a very
ond personal one. What are you do I
about It? I suspect that If *5 .
many of us would push as hard as
scold, a great many of the P ,tl,ul ,_ b ,'
ders of society, which make us unhap
py, would soon ceass to b*.