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ALLURING AS HONEY.
REV. DR. TALMAGE ON TRAPS FOR
’the UNWARY.
The Honeybee and Ite Work Tempta
tion That la DeUcloue jpnd Attractive,
bnt Damaging and Destructive Am
brosia and Nectar For the Soul.
[Copyright, 1898, American Press Asso-
WABHINGTON, Jan. 23.—Dr. Talmage
here starts with an oriental scene, from
which he draws practical lessons as to the
allurements which entrap the unwary,
and the discourse will put many oh their
guard. The text is I Samuel xiv, 43, “I
did but taste a little honey with the end
ot the rod that was In my hand, and, 10,
I must die.’*.
The honeybee is a most ingenious ar
chitect, a Christopher Wren among in
sects, geometer drawing hexagons and
pentagons, a freebooter robbing the fields
of pojlen and aroma, wondrous creature
-of God whose biography, written by Huber
and Swammerdam, is an enchantment for
any lover of nature. Virgil celebrated the
bee in his fable of Arlstseus, and Moses
and Samuel and David and Solomon and
t Jeremiah and Ezekiel and St. John used
the delicacies of bee manufacture as a
Bible symbol. A miracle of formation is
the bee. Five eyes, two tongues, the outer
having a sheath of protection, hairs on all
sides of its tiny body to brush up the par
ticles of flowers, its flight so straight that
all the world knows of the bee line. The
honeycomb is a palace such as no one but
God could plan and the honeybee con
struct; its cells sometimes a dormitory
and sometimes a storehouse and some
times a cemetery. These winged toilers
first make eight strips of wax and by their
antennae, which are to them hammer and
chisel and square and plumb line, fashion
them for use. Two and two these work
ers shape the wall. If an accident hap
pens, they put up buttresses of extra beams
to remedy the damage. ’
When about the year 1776 an insect be
fore unknown in the nighttime attacked
the beehives all over Europe and the men
who owned them were in vain trying to
plan something to keep out the invader
that was the terror of the beehives of the
continent, it was found that everywhere
the bees had arranged for their own pro
tection and built before their honeycombs
an especial wall of wax, with portholes
through which the bees might go to and
fro, but not large enough to admit the
winged combatant, called the Sphinx
atropos.
Do you know that the swarming of the
bees is divinely directed? The mother bee
starts for a new home, and because of this
the other bees of the hivo get into an ex
citement which raises the heat of the hive
some four degrees, and they must die un
less they leave their heated apartments,
and they follow the mother bee and alight
on the branch of a tree, and cling to each
other and hold on until a committee of
' two or three bees has explored the region
and found the hollow of a tree or rock not
far off from a stream of water, and they
here set up a new colony and ply their
aromatic industries and give themselves
to the manufacture of the saccharine edi
ble. But who can tell the chemistry of
that mixture of sweetness, part of it the
very life of the bee and part of it the life
of the fields?
Plenty of this luscious product was
, hanging in the woods of Bethaven during
* the time of Saul and Jonathan. Their
army was in pursuit of an enemy that by
God’s command must be exterminated.
The soldiery were positively forbidden to
stop to eat anything until the work was
done. If they disobeyed, they were ac
cursed. Coming through the
found a place where the bees had been
busy—a great honey manufactory. Honey
gathered in the- hollow of the trees until
it had overflowed upon the ground in
great profusion of sweetness. All the army
obeyed orders and touched it not save Jona
than, and he, not knowing the military or
der about abstinence, dipped the end of a
stick he had in his hand into the candied
liquid, and as yellow and tempting it
glowed on the end of the stick he put it
to his mouth and ate the honey. Judg
ment fell upon him and but for special in
tervention he would have been slain. In
my text Jonathan announces his awful
mistake, “I did but taste a little honey
with the end of the rod that was in my
hand, and, 10, I must die.” Alas, what
multitudes of people in all ages have been
damaged by forbidden honey, by which I
mean temptation, delicious and attractive,
but damaging and destructive!
Corrupt literature, fascinating but
deathful, comes in this category. Where
one good, honest,' healthful book is read
now there is a hundred made up of rhetor
ical trash consumed with avidity. When
th* boys on the cars come through with a
pile of publications, look over the titles
and notice that nine out of ten of the
books are injurious. All the way from
here to Chicago or New Orleans notice that
objectionable books dominate. Taste for
pure literature is poisoned by this scum of
the publishing house. Every book in
which sin triumphs over virtue, or in
which a glamour is thrown over dissipa
tion, or which leaves you at its last line
with less respect for the marriage institu
tion and less abhorrence for the paramour
is a depression of your own moral char
acter. The bookbindery may be attractive,
and the plot dramatic and startling, and
the stylo of writing sweet as the honey
that Jonathan took up with his rod, but
your best interests forbid it, your moral
safety forbids it, your God forbids it, and
one taste of It may lead to such bad re
sults that you may have to say at the close
of the experiment or at the close of a mis
improved lifetime, “I did but taste a little
honey with the rod that was in my hand,
and, 10, I must‘die. ”
Corrupt literature is doing more today
for the disruption of domestic life than
any other cause. Elopements, marital in
trigues, sly correspondence, fictitious
names given at postoffice windows, clan
destine meetings in "parks, and at ferry
gates, and in hotel parlors, and conjugal
perjuries are among the ruinous results.
When a woman young or old gets her head
thoroughly stuffed with the modern novel,
she is in appalling peril. But some one
will say, “The heroes are so adroitly knav
ish, and the heroines so bewitchingly un
true, and the turn of the story so exquisite,
and all thd charactcrs so enrapturing, I
cannot quit them.” My brother, my sis
ter, you can find styles of literature just
as charming that will elevate and purify
and ennoble and Christianize while they
please. The devil does not own all the
honey. There is a wealth of good books
coming forth from our publishing houses
that leave no excuse for the choice of that
which is debauching to body, mind and
souk Go to some intelligent man or wom
an and ask for a list of books' that will be
strengthening to your mental and moral
condition. '
Life is so short and your time for Im
provement so abbreviated that you cannot
afford to fill up with husks and cinders
and debris. In the interstices of business
that young man is reading that which will
prepare him to be a merchant prince, and
that young woman is filling her mind with
an intelligence that will yet either make
her the chief attraction of a good man’s
homo or give her an independence of char
acter that will qualify her to build her
own home and maintain it in a happiness
that retires no augmentation from'any of
•ur rougher sex. That young man or
young woman can, by the right literary
and mm*al improvement of the spare ten
minutes here or there every day, rise bead
and shoulders in prosperity and character
and influence above the loungers who read
nothing, or read that which bedwarfs. See
all the forests of good American literature
dripping with honey. Why pick up the
honeycombs that have in them the fiery
bees which will sting you with an eternal
poison while you taste it? One book may
for you or me decide everything for this
world and the next. It was a turning
point with me when in a bookstore in
Syracuse one day I picked up a book called
“The Beauties of Buskin. ’ It was only a
book of extracts, but it was all pure honey,
and I was not satisfied until I purchased
all his works, at that time expensive be
yond an easy capacity to own them, and
with what delight I went through reading
his “Seven Lamps of Architecture” and
his “Stones of Venice” it is impossible for
me to describe except by saying that it
gave me a rapture for good bopks and an
everlasting disgust fgr decrepit or im
moral books that willflast me while my
life lasts. All around’tho church and the
world today there are busy hives of intel
ligence occupied by authors and authoress
es from whose' pens drip a distillation
which is the very nectar of heaven, and
why will you thrust your rod Os inquisi
tiveness into the deathful saccharine of
perdition?
Stimulating liquids also come into the
category of temptation deliciqus,but death
ful. Yon say, “I cannot bear the taste of
intoxioating liquor, and how any man can
like it is to rue an amazement. ” Well, then,
it is no credit to you that you do not take
it. Do not brag about your total absti
nence, because it is not from any principle
that you reject alcoholism, but for the
reason that you reject certain styles of
food—you simply don’t like the taste of
them. But multitudes of people have a
natural fondness for all kinds of intoxi
cants. They like it so much that it makes
them smack their lips to look at it. They
are dyspeptic, and they like to aid diges
tion; or they are annoyed by insomnia,
and they take it to produce sleep; or they
are troubled, and they take it to make
them oblivious; or they feel happy, and
they must celebrate their hilarity. They
begin with mint julep sucked through two
straws on the Long Branch piazza and end
in the ditch, taking from a jug a liquid
half kerosene and half whisky. They not
only like it, but it is an all consuming pas
sion of body, mind and soul, and after
awhile have it they will, though one wine
glass of it should cost the temporal and
eternal destruction of themselves and all
their families and the whole human race.
They would say, “I am sorry it is going
to cost me and my family and all the
world’s population so very much, but here
it goes to my lips, and now let it roll over
my parched tongue and down my heated
throat, the sweetest and most inspiring,
the most delicious draft that ever thrilled
a human frame. ” To cure the habit be
fore it comes to its last stages various plans
were tried in olden times. This plan was
recommeiyled in the books: When a man
wanted to reform, he put shot or bullets
into the cup or glass of strong drink—one
additional shot or bullet each day that dis
placed so much liquor. Bullet after bullet
added day by day, of course the liquor be
came less and less until the bullets would
entirely fill up the glass, and there was no
room for the liquid, and by that time it
was said the inebriate would be cured.
Whether any one ever was cured in that
way I know not, but by long experiment
It is found that the only way is to stop
short off, and when a man does that he
needs God to help him, and there have
been more cases than you can count when
God has so helped the man that he left off
the drink forever, and I could count a
score of them, some of them pillars in the
house of God.
Gne would suppose that men Would take
warning from some of the ominous names
given to the intoxicants and stand off
from the devastating influence. You have
noticed, for instance, that some of the
restaurants are called The Shades, typical
of the fact that it puts a man’s reputation
in the shade, and his morals in the shade,
and his prosperity in the shade, and his
wife and children in the shade, and his
Immortal destiny in the shade. Now, I
find on some of the liquor signs in all our
cities the words “Old Crow,” mightily
suggestive of the carcass and the filthy
raven that swoopj upon it. “Old Crow!”
Men and women without numbers slain of
rum, but unburled, and this evil is peck
ing at their glazed eyes, and pecking at
their bloated cheek, and pecking at their
destroyed manhood - and womanhood,
thrusting beak and claw into the mortal
remains of what was once gloriously alive,
but now morally dead. “Old Crow!”
But, alas, bow many take no warning!
They make me think of Caesar on his way
to assassination, fearing nothing, though
his statue in the hall crashed into frag
ments at his feet and a scroll containing
the names of the conspirators was thrust
into bis hands, yet walking right on to
meet the dagger that was to take his life.
This infatuation of strong drink is sb
mighty in many a man that, though his
fortunes are crashing, and his health is
crashing, and bis domestic interests are
crashing, and we hand him a long scroll
containing the names of perils that await
him, be goes straight on to physical and
mental qnd moral assassination. In pro
portion as any style of alcoholism is pleas
ant to your taste and stimulating to your
nerves and for a time delightful to all your
physical and mental constitution is the
peril awful. Remember Jonathan and
the forbidden honey in the woods at Beth
aven.
Furthermore, the gamester’s indulgence
must be put in the list of temptations de
licious but destructive. You who have
crossed the ocean many times have noticed
that always one of the best rooms has,
from morning until late at night, been
given up to gambling practices. I heard
of men who went on board with enough
for a European excursion who landed
without money to get their baggage up to
the hotel or railroad station. To many
there is a complete fascination in games
of hazard or the risking of money on pos
sibilities. It seems as natural for them to
bet as to eat. Indeed the hunger for food
is often overpowered by the hunger for
wagers. It is absurd for those of us who
have never felt the fascination of the
wager to speak slightingly of the tempta
tion. It has slain a multitude of intellec
tual and moral giants, men and
stronger than you or I. Down under its
power went glorious Oliver Goldsmith,
and Gibbon, the famous historian, and
Charles Fox, the renowned statesman, and
in olden times senators of the United
States, who used to bo as regularly qt the
gambling house all night as they wore in
the halls of legislation by day. Oh, the
tragedies <rf the farq,table! I know per
sons whd with a slight stake in a
ladies’ parlor and ended with the suicide’s
pistol at Monte Carlo. They played With
the square pieces of bone with black marks
on them, not knowing that satan was play
ing for their bones at the same time, and
was sure to sweep all the stakes off on his
side of the table. State legislatures have
again and again sanctioned the mighty
evil by passing laws in defense of race
tracks, and many young men have lost all
their wages at such so called “meetings.”
Every man'who voted for such infamous
bills has on his hands and forehead the
blood of these souls. -
But in this connection some young con
verts say to me: “Is it right to play cards?
Is there any harm in a game of whist or
euchre?” Well, I know good men who play
whist and euchre and other styles of games
without any wagers. I had a friend who
played cards with his wife and children
and then at the close said, “Come, now,
let us have prayers.” I will not judge
other men’s consciences, but I tell you
that cards are in my mind so associated
with the temporal and spiritual ruin> of
splendid young men that I would as soon
say to my family, “Come, let us have a
game of cards,” as I would go into a men
agerie and say, “Come, let us have a gume
of rattlesnakes, ” or into a cemetery and
sitting down by a marble slab say to the
gravediggers, “Coiqe, let us have a game
at skulls.” Conscientious young ladies
are silently saying, “Do you think card
playing will do us any harm?” Perhaps
not, but how will you feel if in the great
day of eternity, when we aro asked to give
an account of our influence, some man
should say: “I’was introduced to games of
chance in the year 1898 at your bouse, and
I went on from that sport to something
more exciting, and went on down until I
lost my business, and lost my morals, and
lost my soul, and these chains that you see
on my wrists and feet are the chains of a
gamester’s doom, and I am on my way to
a gambler’s hell.” Honey at the start,
eternal catastrophe at the last. *
Stock gambling comes into the same
catalogue. It must bo very exhilaratng to
go into the stock market and depositing a
small sum of money run the chance of
taking out a fortune. Many men are do
ing an honest and safe business in the
stock market and you are an ignoramus
if you do not know that it is just as legiti
mate to deal in stocks aS it is to deal in
coffee or sugar or flour. But nearly all
the outsiders who go there on a financial
excursion lose all. The old spiders eat up
the unsuspecting flies. I had a friend who
put his hand on his hip pocket and said in
substance, “I have there the value of
(250,000.” His home is today penniless.
What was the matter? Stock gambling.
Os the vast majority who are victimized
you hear not one word. One great stock
firm goes down and whole columns of
newspapers discuss their fraud or their
disaster, and we are presented with their
features and their biography. But where
one such famous firm sinks 500 unknown
men sink with them. Tho great steamer
goes down and all the little boats are
swallowed in the same engulfment.
Gambling is gambling, whether in stocks
orbreadstuffs or dice or race horso betting.
Exhilaration at the start, but a raving
brain and a shattered nervous system and
a sacrificed property and a destroyed soul
at the last. Young men, buy no lottery
tickets, purchase no prize packages, bet on
no baseball games or yacht racing, have no
faith in luck, answer no mysterious circu
lars proposing great income for small in
vestment, drive away the buzzards that
hover around our hotels trying to entrap
strangers. Go out and make an honest
living. Have God on your side and be a
candidate for heaven. Remember all the
paths of sin are banked with flowers at the
start, and there are jfienty of helpful hands
to fetch the gay charger to your door and
hold the stirrup while you mount. But
farther on the horse plunges to the bit in
a slough inextricable.
The best honey is not like that which
Jonathan took on the end of the rod and
brought to his lips, but that which God
puts on the banqueting table of mercy, at
which we aro all • invited to sit. I was
reading of a boy among the mountains of
Switzerland ascending a dangerous place
with his father and the guides. The boy
stopped on the edge of the cliff and said,
“ There is a flower I mean to get. ” “Come
away from there, ” said the father. “You
will fall off.” “No,” said he.“l must get
that beautiful flower.” And the guides
rushed toward him to pull him back when,
just as they heard him say, “I almost have
it,” he fell 2,000 feet. Birds of prey were
seen a few days after circling through the
air and lowering gradually to the place
where the corpse lay. Why seek flowers off
the edge of a precipice when you can walk
knee deep amid tho full blooms of the very
paradise of God? When a man may sit at
the king’s banquet, why will he go down
the steps and contend for the refuse and
bones of a hound’s kennel? “Sweeterthan
honey and the honeycomb, ” says David,
is the truth of God. “With honey out of
the rock would I have satisfied thee,” says
God to the recreant. Here is honey gath
ered from the blossoms of trees of life, and
with a rod made out of the wood of the
cross I dip it up for all your eotiis.
The poet Hesiod tells of an ambrosia
and a nectar the drinking of which would
make men live forever, and one sip of tho
honey from the eternal rock will give you
eternal life with God. Come off the ma
larial levels of a sinful life. Come and
live on the uplands of grace, where tho
vineyards sun themselves. “Oh, taste and
see that the Lord is gracious!” Be happy
now and happy forever. For those who
take a different course the honey will turn
to gall. For many things I have admired
Percy Shelley, tho great English poet, but
I deplore the fact that it seemed a great
sweetness to him to dishonor God. The
poem “Queen Mab” has in it tho malign
ing of the deity. Shelley was impious
enough to ask for Rowland Hill’s Surrey
chapel that be might denounce the Chris
tian religion. He was in great glee against
God and She truth. But he visited Italy,
and one day on the Mediterranean with
two friends in a boat which was 24 feet
long fie was coming toward sfiore when
an hour’s squall struck the water. A gen
tleman standing on shore through a glass
saw many boats tossed in this squall, but
all outrode the storm except one, in which
Shelley and bis two friends were sailing,
that never came ashore, but the bodies of
two of the occupants were washed upon
the beach, one of them the poet. A fu
neral pyre was built on the seashore by
some classic friends, and the two bodies
were consumed. Poor Shelley! He would
have no God while be lived, and I fear ha<f
no God when he died. “The Lord know
eth the way of the righteous, but the way
of the ungodly shall perish.” Beware of
the forbidden honey!
’•> 11, Illi—M
EXPERIMENT IN DETECTION.
The CroMlag Policeman la as Wise as Sol
omon When Neoeasory.
The policeman who maintains life
and order at tho meeting of two down
town streets must be possessed of con
siderable judgment He must know
when to make a hole in tho wall, so to
speak, through the mass of vehicles and
let a portion of the surging humanity
go through. He must know how to
do several things at once—to at the
same time chat pleasantly with a lady
friend of his, tell a woman from the
suburbs where the streets she’s on is
and pull a couple of old gentlemen from
the jaws of cable cars, and, what is
more surprising, most of the down town
force can do this, and, what is truly as
tonishing, nearly all do it in a gentle
manly manner and keep their tempers
well.
It is not infrequently that an officer
is found who can do all this and more
too. At one of the most prominent cross
streets there is a policeman who is a
close second to the caliph that decided
the ownership of an infant in his own
highly original way. Among many in
stances where his acumen has played a
particular part is one that happened a
day or so ago. It concerned a bicycle.
The latter was left by its rider against
the curb. A few minutes later a young
man approached it The policeman in
question had not seen the owner get off
the machine, but he thought tfie new
comer looked a trifle suspicious. The
chain and sprocket wheel of the bicycle
had been secured together by a padlock.
When the young man in question began
to carry the wheel off instead of unlock
ing it he felt it was about time to act.
“Do you. own that bicycle?” he said
to the young man. ”
“Yes,” was the reply.
“Where’s your key, then?” was his
next.
“I’ve lost it ” That settled it.
. “Say, now,” continued the police
man, “will you give mo your name and
address?”
The young man seemingly did not
want to make any trouble. He hesitated
for a moment and then said, “Why, yes,
if you want it.”
'“And now,” continued the police
man, after he had it, “you know the
case looks strange, and you know we
have so many bikes lost, would you
mind waiting 15 minutes to see if any
one else should come after that wheel?”
“No,, I guess not,” said the young
man. Then he leaned back on a railing
and began to wait. After he had been
there three or four minutes the police
man said: “ Well, I guess it’s all right.
You can go.” And then, turning to a
bystander, he remarked, “You can bet
your next month’s pay he wouldn’t
have stood there if it wasn’t his.”—
Chicago Times-Herald.
BRAINS EQUAL TO COURAGE.
The Cat Rescued, but the Stout Woman
Was Not Satisfied.
It was a damp day, but the crowd
stood and watched the black cat as it
mewed plaintively and clung to the
trailing vine three stories above the
street in front of a four story brown
stone dwelling. A long wire supported
the vine, nearly reaching the roof. The
cat, in a sportive mood evidently, had
climbed the long vine and at the third
story stopped, as if fright had paralyzed
further efforts. Every minute it mewed,
and its appeal for help collected a crowd.
A large wonum said:
“ Why don’t some one climb up there
and release that cat?”
“Suppose you try it, madam, ” chirped
a dapper little man, who looked upon
the affair as a joke.
'•“Well, if I had your small heft I
would climb that vine. Men never do
anything dangerous these days. ” ,
“Oh, yes, they do, madam! They
catch cold, drink too much and stay out
late at their lodges.”
She gave the little man a look and
ejaculated: “You think you are smart,
don’t you? You can talk, but you can’t
rescue even a cat. ”
“You do me wrong. Watch me rescue
that cat even at the peril of being in
sulted. Do not be frightened. I go, but
I will return. ” He ran across the street
as the large woman shouted, “He is go
ing to climb!” He rang the doorbell of
the house, and when the servant girl
appeared he pointed to the cat above.
The door closed, and a few minutes
later a window in the third story opened,
and the girl, reaching her arm out,
caught the cat and took it ini The
crowd cheered, and the dapper man
bowed, but the large woman said con
temptuously :
“Men have no courage. They get wo
men to rescue cats.”—New York Com
mercial.
Useful Books.
If a scholar has little money for
books, he should, expend it mostly on
works of reference, and so get a daily
return for his output So seems to have
thought a young man of whom we re
cently heard, who, when asked by a
canvasser to purchase an encyclopedia,
said he had one.
“Which one.is It?” inquired the can
vasser.
The young man could not remember.
Neither could he tell who published it,
but it was a flneiwork, in many large
volumes.
“Do you ever use them?” asked tho
agent
“Certainly—almost every day. ”
“In what line?”
"Oh, I press my trousers with them.
They are splendid for that ’’—Rambler.
A Fortune For Flower*.
Mrs. Mackay spends more on floral
decorations when giving a dinner party
or reception than any other member of
the fashionable world. She has been
known to have chariots—drawn by
swans—filled with roses, from which
her guests could help themselves. Her
dinner tables are a wealth of flowers.
When the blossoms are expensive and
put of season, the bill for flowers at a
reception often amounts to £soo.—Lon
lon Standard.
simflating theYood andßegula
iiqg the Stomachs and Bowels of
Promote gTHgesGon,Cheerful-
BessandHßstCdntains neither
OpniifTMorphine nor Mineral.
Not Narcotic.
MwauMMSHMaime • • eeMBiMMWWMM
AdSaX- J
j
A perfect Remedy for Constipa
tion, Sour Stomach,Diarrhoea,
Worms .Convulsions .Feverish
ness and Loss OF SLEEP.
Facsimile Signature of
NEW YORK. [
EXACT COPY Os WRAPPER,
a; --2
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With Neatness and Dispatch.
====??======»
Out of town orders will receive |
prompt attention. ' i
J. P. & S B. SawtelL
CENTRAL OF GEORGIA HAW CO.
• » <> «s►<><><» ..
Schedule in Effect Jan. 9, 1898.
■ Willi
■ m
■- 'WI
t74opm tlPUpm Ar.... TBomaswn. T *«"~" n
Mis pm aßlpmloU am Ar Forayth Ly >Mpm B<gam
UlOam BJomn ISWpS Lv BU4pm 7Wam »»a» w j|
815 am B£spmAr Millen.. Ly 1134 am liMpm
8 00am 800 pm
*DaiJy. teioept Sunday. * •
Train for Newnan and Carrollton leavesGrUßn at »?5 am, and 1 s 0 pw dally except
Sunday. Returning, arrlvoa In Griffln 520 p m and 12 40 p m dally except Sunday. For
further information apply to
1
_.I . .
. ... , 1 ■ ■
• ■ ■ ■' '•■'SS
SEE
THAT THE
FAC-SIMILE
SIGNATURE
OF
t s' ■ ■<./ -
IS ON THE
WRAPPER
OF EVERY
BOTTLE OF
mioß
Outofia ia pvt up K raa-dae betth* raly. It
la Mt aold ia balk. Don’t allow to r.”
yon anything alsa on tho plea or promiad tl>A
i* M jo»t M good ’’and “wfll anawer ev«y pw
poao." flea that yen gvt 0-A.B-T-0-B-I-A.
I The lac- _ -
alalia baa