A schoolboy had a blind father; the boy was very keen on games, and his father was in the habit of being present at all the school cricket matches, altho he had to look on at the prowess of his son through other eyes. Then the father died. The day after the funeral there was an important cricket match on, and, to the surprize of his fellows, the lad exprest a strong wish to play. He played, and played well, making a fine score, and carrying out his bat. His friends gathered round him in the pavilion, shaking him by the hand and patting him on the back.“Did I do well?” he asked.“Well!” was the reply, “you did splendidly; never better.”“I am so glad,” the boy said; “it is the first time he ever saw me bat.”For him, heaven was the place which gave his blind father sight.
A schoolboy had a blind father; the boy was very keen on games, and his father was in the habit of being present at all the school cricket matches, altho he had to look on at the prowess of his son through other eyes. Then the father died. The day after the funeral there was an important cricket match on, and, to the surprize of his fellows, the lad exprest a strong wish to play. He played, and played well, making a fine score, and carrying out his bat. His friends gathered round him in the pavilion, shaking him by the hand and patting him on the back.
“Did I do well?” he asked.
“Well!” was the reply, “you did splendidly; never better.”
“I am so glad,” the boy said; “it is the first time he ever saw me bat.”
For him, heaven was the place which gave his blind father sight.
(1375)
Elizabeth Stuart Phelps points out the fact that each one’s idea of heaven is some place or state where our most earnest longings and desires are met and fulfilled:
“If I could be out of physical pain,” said a lifelong invalid, “I would ask no other heaven.” “If I could be in a place where I might know that my husband never could be killed on the train!” cried one of the gentle worriers, whose capacity for suffering is neither understood nor respected by the sanguine. “If I could take my children to a world where every time I hear a croupy cough my heart did not stand still with terror,” urged another, “that would be heaven for me.” The mulatto girl who burst into joyful tears at first sight of a marble bust of herself, “because it was white,” caught a glimpse of her heaven before its time.“Heaven must be like any other form of happiness, only ‘more so,’” said a thoughtful man. “And the conditions of happiness are three—a clear conscience, something to do, and some one to love.”
“If I could be out of physical pain,” said a lifelong invalid, “I would ask no other heaven.” “If I could be in a place where I might know that my husband never could be killed on the train!” cried one of the gentle worriers, whose capacity for suffering is neither understood nor respected by the sanguine. “If I could take my children to a world where every time I hear a croupy cough my heart did not stand still with terror,” urged another, “that would be heaven for me.” The mulatto girl who burst into joyful tears at first sight of a marble bust of herself, “because it was white,” caught a glimpse of her heaven before its time.
“Heaven must be like any other form of happiness, only ‘more so,’” said a thoughtful man. “And the conditions of happiness are three—a clear conscience, something to do, and some one to love.”
(1376)
SeeCountry, A New;Light Immortal.
HEAVEN, CONCEPTIONS OF
Life changes all our thoughts of heaven;At first we think of streets of gold,Of gates of pearl and dazzling light,Of shining wings and robes of white,And things all strange to mortal sight.But in the afterward of yearsIt is a more familiar place—A home unhurt by sighs or tears,Where waiteth many a well-known face.With passing months it comes more near.It grows more real day by day;Not strange or cold, but very dear—The glad homeland not far away,Where none are sick, or poor, or lone,The place where we shall find our own.And as we think of all we knew,Who there have met to part no more,Our longing hearts desire home, too,With all the strife and trouble o’er.
Life changes all our thoughts of heaven;At first we think of streets of gold,Of gates of pearl and dazzling light,Of shining wings and robes of white,And things all strange to mortal sight.But in the afterward of yearsIt is a more familiar place—A home unhurt by sighs or tears,Where waiteth many a well-known face.With passing months it comes more near.It grows more real day by day;Not strange or cold, but very dear—The glad homeland not far away,Where none are sick, or poor, or lone,The place where we shall find our own.And as we think of all we knew,Who there have met to part no more,Our longing hearts desire home, too,With all the strife and trouble o’er.
Life changes all our thoughts of heaven;At first we think of streets of gold,Of gates of pearl and dazzling light,Of shining wings and robes of white,And things all strange to mortal sight.But in the afterward of yearsIt is a more familiar place—A home unhurt by sighs or tears,Where waiteth many a well-known face.With passing months it comes more near.It grows more real day by day;Not strange or cold, but very dear—The glad homeland not far away,Where none are sick, or poor, or lone,The place where we shall find our own.And as we think of all we knew,Who there have met to part no more,Our longing hearts desire home, too,With all the strife and trouble o’er.
Life changes all our thoughts of heaven;
At first we think of streets of gold,
Of gates of pearl and dazzling light,
Of shining wings and robes of white,
And things all strange to mortal sight.
But in the afterward of years
It is a more familiar place—
A home unhurt by sighs or tears,
Where waiteth many a well-known face.
With passing months it comes more near.
It grows more real day by day;
Not strange or cold, but very dear—
The glad homeland not far away,
Where none are sick, or poor, or lone,
The place where we shall find our own.
And as we think of all we knew,
Who there have met to part no more,
Our longing hearts desire home, too,
With all the strife and trouble o’er.
(1377)
Heaven, Disbelief in—SeeAnswer, A Soft.
HEAVEN, FRIENDS IN
Rev. John White Chadwick, who has now joined “the choir invisible,” wrote of the friends who had gone before in this poem:
It singeth low in every heart,We hear it, each and all—A song of those who answer not,However we may call;They throng the silence of the breast,We see them as of yore—The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet,Who walk with us no more.’Tis hard to take the burden upWhen these have laid it down;They brightened all the joy of life,They softened every frown;But, O, ’tis good to think of themWhen we are troubled sore!Thanks be to God that such have been,Tho they are here no more.More homelike seems the vast unknown,Since they have entered there;To follow them were not so hard,Wherever they may fare;They can not be where God is not,On any sea or shore;Whate’er betides, Thy love abides,Our God, for evermore.
It singeth low in every heart,We hear it, each and all—A song of those who answer not,However we may call;They throng the silence of the breast,We see them as of yore—The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet,Who walk with us no more.’Tis hard to take the burden upWhen these have laid it down;They brightened all the joy of life,They softened every frown;But, O, ’tis good to think of themWhen we are troubled sore!Thanks be to God that such have been,Tho they are here no more.More homelike seems the vast unknown,Since they have entered there;To follow them were not so hard,Wherever they may fare;They can not be where God is not,On any sea or shore;Whate’er betides, Thy love abides,Our God, for evermore.
It singeth low in every heart,We hear it, each and all—A song of those who answer not,However we may call;They throng the silence of the breast,We see them as of yore—The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet,Who walk with us no more.
It singeth low in every heart,
We hear it, each and all—
A song of those who answer not,
However we may call;
They throng the silence of the breast,
We see them as of yore—
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet,
Who walk with us no more.
’Tis hard to take the burden upWhen these have laid it down;They brightened all the joy of life,They softened every frown;But, O, ’tis good to think of themWhen we are troubled sore!Thanks be to God that such have been,Tho they are here no more.
’Tis hard to take the burden up
When these have laid it down;
They brightened all the joy of life,
They softened every frown;
But, O, ’tis good to think of them
When we are troubled sore!
Thanks be to God that such have been,
Tho they are here no more.
More homelike seems the vast unknown,Since they have entered there;To follow them were not so hard,Wherever they may fare;They can not be where God is not,On any sea or shore;Whate’er betides, Thy love abides,Our God, for evermore.
More homelike seems the vast unknown,
Since they have entered there;
To follow them were not so hard,
Wherever they may fare;
They can not be where God is not,
On any sea or shore;
Whate’er betides, Thy love abides,
Our God, for evermore.
(1378)
Heaven, Getting to—SeeObligation to the Church.
Heaven Open—SeeLooking Up.
HEAVEN OUR HOME
When King Khama came from Bechuanaland to England he was constantly asking “Where is Africa?” No matter how fascinating were the sights, his heart turned always homeward. So the Christian in the midst of all life’s distractions may remember that here he has no continuing city—heaven is his home. (Text.)
When King Khama came from Bechuanaland to England he was constantly asking “Where is Africa?” No matter how fascinating were the sights, his heart turned always homeward. So the Christian in the midst of all life’s distractions may remember that here he has no continuing city—heaven is his home. (Text.)
(1379)
Heavenly Mail Facilities—SeeChildren’s Religious Ideas.
Heavenly Treasures—SeeTreasures Laid Up.
HEAVENLY VISITORS
Observations of falling stars have been used to determine roughly the average number of meteorites which attempt to pierce the earth’s atmosphere during each twenty-four hours. Dr. Schmidt, of Athens, from observations made during seventeen years, found that the mean hourly number of luminous meteors visible on a clear, moonless night by one observer was fourteen, taking the time of observation from midnight to 1A.M.It has been further experimentally shown that a large group of observers who might include the whole horizon in their observations would see about six times as many as are visible to one eye. Prof. H. A. Newton and others have calculated that, making all proper corrections, the number which might be visible over the whole earth would be a little greater than 10,000 times as many as could be seen at one place. From this we gather that not less than 20,000,000 luminous meteors fall upon our planet daily, each of which in a dark clear night would present us with the well-known phenomenon of a shooting-star. This number, however, by no means represents the total number of minute meteorites that enter our atmosphere, because many entirely invisible to the naked eye are often seen in telescopes. It has been calculated that the number of meteorites, if these were included, would be increased at least twentyfold; this would give us 400,000,000 of meteorites falling in the earth’s atmosphere daily.—J. Norman Lockyer,Harper’s Magazine.
Observations of falling stars have been used to determine roughly the average number of meteorites which attempt to pierce the earth’s atmosphere during each twenty-four hours. Dr. Schmidt, of Athens, from observations made during seventeen years, found that the mean hourly number of luminous meteors visible on a clear, moonless night by one observer was fourteen, taking the time of observation from midnight to 1A.M.It has been further experimentally shown that a large group of observers who might include the whole horizon in their observations would see about six times as many as are visible to one eye. Prof. H. A. Newton and others have calculated that, making all proper corrections, the number which might be visible over the whole earth would be a little greater than 10,000 times as many as could be seen at one place. From this we gather that not less than 20,000,000 luminous meteors fall upon our planet daily, each of which in a dark clear night would present us with the well-known phenomenon of a shooting-star. This number, however, by no means represents the total number of minute meteorites that enter our atmosphere, because many entirely invisible to the naked eye are often seen in telescopes. It has been calculated that the number of meteorites, if these were included, would be increased at least twentyfold; this would give us 400,000,000 of meteorites falling in the earth’s atmosphere daily.—J. Norman Lockyer,Harper’s Magazine.
(1380)
Heavens, The—SeePrivilege.
Height—SeeGiants and Dwarfs;Upward Look.
Height Abolishing Burdens—SeeWeight Diminished by Ascent.
HEIGHTS
The mind of Christ places and keeps us on the heights, lifting our consciousness from the seen to the unseen, and opening all our little restricted nature to the joyous rhythm of the universal life. What cowards we are when dominated by the seen. We dare not affirm anything beyond the reach of the eye, the sound of the ear, the touch of the finger-tips. But the beauties we see are only the reflection of the beauties that are, like Pluto’s artizans in the cave, catching only the reflected light from the realm above, the music we hear, the merest jingle of the melodies divine, the things we touch, the superficial, mechanical, material side of reality. Why can’t we believe that the unseen things which can be detected from the heights are those that are worth while, because the abiding, the eternal? Only on the heights can we dominate bodily conditions.—Robert MacDonald.
The mind of Christ places and keeps us on the heights, lifting our consciousness from the seen to the unseen, and opening all our little restricted nature to the joyous rhythm of the universal life. What cowards we are when dominated by the seen. We dare not affirm anything beyond the reach of the eye, the sound of the ear, the touch of the finger-tips. But the beauties we see are only the reflection of the beauties that are, like Pluto’s artizans in the cave, catching only the reflected light from the realm above, the music we hear, the merest jingle of the melodies divine, the things we touch, the superficial, mechanical, material side of reality. Why can’t we believe that the unseen things which can be detected from the heights are those that are worth while, because the abiding, the eternal? Only on the heights can we dominate bodily conditions.—Robert MacDonald.
(1381)
Heights, In the—SeeConfidence.
HEIGHTS, LIVING ON
On the heights above the vega of Granada there rises the great palace of the Alhambra. In the lower stories there are the menial offices of domestic use. Above them are the living rooms, the guest chambers, the halls of the Moorish kings; and far above them all rises the great red tower into which the Moslem kings could ascend to look upward to the stars and downward on the valley, green with trees and beautiful with cities.So God has made our lives. The lower stories serving the needs of our material life, the higher ones of intellect and affection, where we live in the joys of thought and friendship; but high above them all rises the great watch-tower of the soul in which the noise and toils of earth are lost inthe great stillness of the heights, and earth’s mysteries and sorrows are interpreted by the higher providence of God.—F. F. Shannon.
On the heights above the vega of Granada there rises the great palace of the Alhambra. In the lower stories there are the menial offices of domestic use. Above them are the living rooms, the guest chambers, the halls of the Moorish kings; and far above them all rises the great red tower into which the Moslem kings could ascend to look upward to the stars and downward on the valley, green with trees and beautiful with cities.
So God has made our lives. The lower stories serving the needs of our material life, the higher ones of intellect and affection, where we live in the joys of thought and friendship; but high above them all rises the great watch-tower of the soul in which the noise and toils of earth are lost inthe great stillness of the heights, and earth’s mysteries and sorrows are interpreted by the higher providence of God.—F. F. Shannon.
(1382)
HEIGHTS, PRESSING TOWARD
The peaks of some mountains are always enveloped in morning mists. They shut down on the climber like a sky of lead beyond which neither rift in the clouds or ray of sunlight is visible. The expansive view is excluded and self is left, humanly speaking, alone in the gloom. But if he presses forward, keeping onward and upward, the light of the eastern sun will soon flood him with light.In the world we are often confused by the mountain mists. Then is the time to press forward, in the faith that we shall see the rays of the rising Son of righteousness dispel the clouds and light breaking forth. (Text.)
The peaks of some mountains are always enveloped in morning mists. They shut down on the climber like a sky of lead beyond which neither rift in the clouds or ray of sunlight is visible. The expansive view is excluded and self is left, humanly speaking, alone in the gloom. But if he presses forward, keeping onward and upward, the light of the eastern sun will soon flood him with light.
In the world we are often confused by the mountain mists. Then is the time to press forward, in the faith that we shall see the rays of the rising Son of righteousness dispel the clouds and light breaking forth. (Text.)
(1383)
Heights, Striving for the—SeeGain Through Loss.
Hell, Threatened—SeeSinners and God.
HELP FOR THE HELPLESS
During the South African war a manager of a mine on the lonely veldt did his best to discover and help the wounded British soldiers in the neighborhood of his home. When night came on the manager had to give up his weary search. But he determined to let the soldiers know of the refuge which his house was ready to afford. So he sat down to his little piano and played incessantly, “God Save the Queen.” Through the night, while his fingers were numbed with the cold, he played the British national anthem, risking death at the hands of the enemies if they had heard him. And one by one the wounded soldiers struggled toward the friendly roof and lay down in the safe refuge of his home. It was a beautiful version of the Savior’s call to tired and tempted men and women: “Come unto me, and rest.” (Text.)
During the South African war a manager of a mine on the lonely veldt did his best to discover and help the wounded British soldiers in the neighborhood of his home. When night came on the manager had to give up his weary search. But he determined to let the soldiers know of the refuge which his house was ready to afford. So he sat down to his little piano and played incessantly, “God Save the Queen.” Through the night, while his fingers were numbed with the cold, he played the British national anthem, risking death at the hands of the enemies if they had heard him. And one by one the wounded soldiers struggled toward the friendly roof and lay down in the safe refuge of his home. It was a beautiful version of the Savior’s call to tired and tempted men and women: “Come unto me, and rest.” (Text.)
(1384)
HELP ONE ANOTHER
“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,As they settled down in their fleecy bed,“One of us here would never be felt,One of us here would quickly melt;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the maple spraySaid to its fellow leaves one day;“The sun would wither me here alone,Long enough ere the day is gone;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the dew-drop cried,Seeing another drop close to its side;“The warm south wind would dry me away,And I should be gone ere noon to-day;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”“Help one another,” a grain of sandSaid to another grain close at hand;“The wind may carry me over the sea,And then, oh, what will become of me?But, come, my brother, give me your hand,We’ll build a mountain and then we’ll stand.”And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;The grains of sand to a mountain;The leaves became a summer shade;The dew-drops fed a fountain.—Source Unidentified.
“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,As they settled down in their fleecy bed,“One of us here would never be felt,One of us here would quickly melt;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the maple spraySaid to its fellow leaves one day;“The sun would wither me here alone,Long enough ere the day is gone;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”“Help one another,” the dew-drop cried,Seeing another drop close to its side;“The warm south wind would dry me away,And I should be gone ere noon to-day;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”“Help one another,” a grain of sandSaid to another grain close at hand;“The wind may carry me over the sea,And then, oh, what will become of me?But, come, my brother, give me your hand,We’ll build a mountain and then we’ll stand.”And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;The grains of sand to a mountain;The leaves became a summer shade;The dew-drops fed a fountain.—Source Unidentified.
“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,As they settled down in their fleecy bed,“One of us here would never be felt,One of us here would quickly melt;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”
“Help one another,” the snowflakes said,
As they settled down in their fleecy bed,
“One of us here would never be felt,
One of us here would quickly melt;
But I’ll help you, and you help me,
And then what a splendid drift there’ll be.”
“Help one another,” the maple spraySaid to its fellow leaves one day;“The sun would wither me here alone,Long enough ere the day is gone;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”
“Help one another,” the maple spray
Said to its fellow leaves one day;
“The sun would wither me here alone,
Long enough ere the day is gone;
But I’ll help you, and you help me,
And then what a splendid shade there’ll be.”
“Help one another,” the dew-drop cried,Seeing another drop close to its side;“The warm south wind would dry me away,And I should be gone ere noon to-day;But I’ll help you, and you help me,And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”
“Help one another,” the dew-drop cried,
Seeing another drop close to its side;
“The warm south wind would dry me away,
And I should be gone ere noon to-day;
But I’ll help you, and you help me,
And we’ll make a brook and run to the sea.”
“Help one another,” a grain of sandSaid to another grain close at hand;“The wind may carry me over the sea,And then, oh, what will become of me?But, come, my brother, give me your hand,We’ll build a mountain and then we’ll stand.”
“Help one another,” a grain of sand
Said to another grain close at hand;
“The wind may carry me over the sea,
And then, oh, what will become of me?
But, come, my brother, give me your hand,
We’ll build a mountain and then we’ll stand.”
And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;The grains of sand to a mountain;The leaves became a summer shade;The dew-drops fed a fountain.—Source Unidentified.
And so the snowflakes grew to drifts;
The grains of sand to a mountain;
The leaves became a summer shade;
The dew-drops fed a fountain.
—Source Unidentified.
(1385)
HELP, TIMELY APPEAL FOR
In the days of the United States Christian Commission, at a time when help was needed, a dinner was being served at Saratoga. Mr. George H. Stuart, of Philadelphia, a leader in the work, rose at table and announced, “I have news from Charleston!” Instantly all was silent. Then he added, “I have a dispatch from the commanding officer at Hilton Head, saying, ‘For God’s sake, send us ice for our wounded soldiers! Will the boarders at Saratoga respond?’” “We will! We will! We will!” rang out in chorus. Soon a purse of $3,200 was raised and forwarded to the seat of war.
In the days of the United States Christian Commission, at a time when help was needed, a dinner was being served at Saratoga. Mr. George H. Stuart, of Philadelphia, a leader in the work, rose at table and announced, “I have news from Charleston!” Instantly all was silent. Then he added, “I have a dispatch from the commanding officer at Hilton Head, saying, ‘For God’s sake, send us ice for our wounded soldiers! Will the boarders at Saratoga respond?’” “We will! We will! We will!” rang out in chorus. Soon a purse of $3,200 was raised and forwarded to the seat of war.
Help can always be secured if we know the time and place and way of asking.
(1386)
HELP, UNEXPECTED
Two men walking across a little park in Washington (says Ida N. Tarbell) saw Mr. Lincoln just ahead of them meet a crippled soldier who was in a towering rage, cursing the Government from the President down. Mr. Lincoln asked what was the matter. “Matter,” snapt the soldier; “I’m just out of a rebel prison. I’ve been discharged andI can’t get my money.” Mr. Lincoln asked for the soldier’s papers, saying that he had been a lawyer and perhaps could help him. The two gentlemen stept behind some shrubbery and waited. The President took the papers from the soldier, examined them, wrote a line on the back, and told him to carry them to the chief clerk at the War Department. After Mr. Lincoln had passed on, the gentlemen asked the soldier if he knew who had been talking to him. “Some ugly old fellow who pretends to be a lawyer,” was the answer. On looking at the note written on the back of the papers, the soldier discovered that he had been cursing “Abe” Lincoln to his face. He found a request to the chief clerk to examine the papers and, if correct, to see that the soldier was given his pay, signed A. Lincoln.
Two men walking across a little park in Washington (says Ida N. Tarbell) saw Mr. Lincoln just ahead of them meet a crippled soldier who was in a towering rage, cursing the Government from the President down. Mr. Lincoln asked what was the matter. “Matter,” snapt the soldier; “I’m just out of a rebel prison. I’ve been discharged andI can’t get my money.” Mr. Lincoln asked for the soldier’s papers, saying that he had been a lawyer and perhaps could help him. The two gentlemen stept behind some shrubbery and waited. The President took the papers from the soldier, examined them, wrote a line on the back, and told him to carry them to the chief clerk at the War Department. After Mr. Lincoln had passed on, the gentlemen asked the soldier if he knew who had been talking to him. “Some ugly old fellow who pretends to be a lawyer,” was the answer. On looking at the note written on the back of the papers, the soldier discovered that he had been cursing “Abe” Lincoln to his face. He found a request to the chief clerk to examine the papers and, if correct, to see that the soldier was given his pay, signed A. Lincoln.
(1387)
HELP UNRECOGNIZED
A night of terror and danger, because of their ignorance, was spent by the crew of a vessel off the coast of New Jersey.Just before dark a bark was discovered drifting helplessly, and soon struck her bows so that she was made fast on a bar, and in momentary danger of going down.A line was shot over the rigging of the wreck by a life-saving crew, but the sailors did not understand that it was a line connecting them with the shore, that they might seize and escape. All signs failed to make them understand this. So all night the bark lay with the big waves dashing over it, while the crew, drenched and shivering and terrified, shouted for help.In the morning they discovered how unnecessarily they had suffered, and how all night there was a line right within reach by which they might have been saved.—Evangelical Messenger.
A night of terror and danger, because of their ignorance, was spent by the crew of a vessel off the coast of New Jersey.
Just before dark a bark was discovered drifting helplessly, and soon struck her bows so that she was made fast on a bar, and in momentary danger of going down.
A line was shot over the rigging of the wreck by a life-saving crew, but the sailors did not understand that it was a line connecting them with the shore, that they might seize and escape. All signs failed to make them understand this. So all night the bark lay with the big waves dashing over it, while the crew, drenched and shivering and terrified, shouted for help.
In the morning they discovered how unnecessarily they had suffered, and how all night there was a line right within reach by which they might have been saved.—Evangelical Messenger.
(1388)
Helpers, Humble—SeeSupplies, Bringing Up.
HELPERS, UNSEEN
Wireless ships suggest the value of our unseen helpers. Life is a sea, and men are mariners. As long as the sea is smooth we do not give much thought to our helpers in the unseen. But smooth sea, rough sea, or no sea, the helpers are there, waiting to be called. And behind them all stands the eternal Christ, dispatching his cosmic soldiers, even as the Roman centurion commanded his legions.—F. F. Shannon.
Wireless ships suggest the value of our unseen helpers. Life is a sea, and men are mariners. As long as the sea is smooth we do not give much thought to our helpers in the unseen. But smooth sea, rough sea, or no sea, the helpers are there, waiting to be called. And behind them all stands the eternal Christ, dispatching his cosmic soldiers, even as the Roman centurion commanded his legions.—F. F. Shannon.
(1389)
HELPFULNESS
Susan Coolidge puts into verse some suggestive questions upon opportunities to be helpful:
If you were toiling up a weary hill,Bearing a load beyond your strength to bear,Straining each nerve untiringly and stillStumbling and losing foothold here and there,And each one passing by would do so muchAs give one upward lift and go his way,Would not the slight reiterated touchOf help and kindness lighten all the day?If you were breasting a keen wind which tostAnd buffeted and chilled you as you strove,Till baffled and bewildered quite, you lostThe power to see the way, and aim and move,And one, if only for a moment’s space,Gave you a shelter from the bitter blast,Would you not find it easier to faceThe storm again when the brief rest was past?
If you were toiling up a weary hill,Bearing a load beyond your strength to bear,Straining each nerve untiringly and stillStumbling and losing foothold here and there,And each one passing by would do so muchAs give one upward lift and go his way,Would not the slight reiterated touchOf help and kindness lighten all the day?If you were breasting a keen wind which tostAnd buffeted and chilled you as you strove,Till baffled and bewildered quite, you lostThe power to see the way, and aim and move,And one, if only for a moment’s space,Gave you a shelter from the bitter blast,Would you not find it easier to faceThe storm again when the brief rest was past?
If you were toiling up a weary hill,Bearing a load beyond your strength to bear,Straining each nerve untiringly and stillStumbling and losing foothold here and there,And each one passing by would do so muchAs give one upward lift and go his way,Would not the slight reiterated touchOf help and kindness lighten all the day?
If you were toiling up a weary hill,
Bearing a load beyond your strength to bear,
Straining each nerve untiringly and still
Stumbling and losing foothold here and there,
And each one passing by would do so much
As give one upward lift and go his way,
Would not the slight reiterated touch
Of help and kindness lighten all the day?
If you were breasting a keen wind which tostAnd buffeted and chilled you as you strove,Till baffled and bewildered quite, you lostThe power to see the way, and aim and move,And one, if only for a moment’s space,Gave you a shelter from the bitter blast,Would you not find it easier to faceThe storm again when the brief rest was past?
If you were breasting a keen wind which tost
And buffeted and chilled you as you strove,
Till baffled and bewildered quite, you lost
The power to see the way, and aim and move,
And one, if only for a moment’s space,
Gave you a shelter from the bitter blast,
Would you not find it easier to face
The storm again when the brief rest was past?
(1390)
If I can liveTo make some pale face brighter, and to giveA second luster to some tear-dimmed eye,Or e’en impartOne throb of comfort to an aching heart,Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by;If I can lendA strong hand to the fallen, or defendThe right against a single envious strain,My life, tho barePerhaps of much that seemeth dear and fairTo us of earth, will not have been in vain.The purest joy,Most near to heaven, far from earth’s alloy,Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;And ’twill be wellIf on that day of days the angels tellOf me, “She did her best for one of Thine.” (Text.)
If I can liveTo make some pale face brighter, and to giveA second luster to some tear-dimmed eye,Or e’en impartOne throb of comfort to an aching heart,Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by;If I can lendA strong hand to the fallen, or defendThe right against a single envious strain,My life, tho barePerhaps of much that seemeth dear and fairTo us of earth, will not have been in vain.The purest joy,Most near to heaven, far from earth’s alloy,Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;And ’twill be wellIf on that day of days the angels tellOf me, “She did her best for one of Thine.” (Text.)
If I can liveTo make some pale face brighter, and to giveA second luster to some tear-dimmed eye,Or e’en impartOne throb of comfort to an aching heart,Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by;
If I can live
To make some pale face brighter, and to give
A second luster to some tear-dimmed eye,
Or e’en impart
One throb of comfort to an aching heart,
Or cheer some wayworn soul in passing by;
If I can lendA strong hand to the fallen, or defendThe right against a single envious strain,My life, tho barePerhaps of much that seemeth dear and fairTo us of earth, will not have been in vain.
If I can lend
A strong hand to the fallen, or defend
The right against a single envious strain,
My life, tho bare
Perhaps of much that seemeth dear and fair
To us of earth, will not have been in vain.
The purest joy,Most near to heaven, far from earth’s alloy,Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;And ’twill be wellIf on that day of days the angels tellOf me, “She did her best for one of Thine.” (Text.)
The purest joy,
Most near to heaven, far from earth’s alloy,
Is bidding cloud give way to sun and shine;
And ’twill be well
If on that day of days the angels tell
Of me, “She did her best for one of Thine.” (Text.)
(1391)
The Koran tells of an angel who was sent from heaven to earth to do two things. One was to save King Solomon from doing some wrong thing to which he was inclined; and the other was to help a tiny yellow ant carry its load. (Text.)
The Koran tells of an angel who was sent from heaven to earth to do two things. One was to save King Solomon from doing some wrong thing to which he was inclined; and the other was to help a tiny yellow ant carry its load. (Text.)
(1392)
SeeIndividual Influence;Labor, Opportunity for.
HELPFULNESS AMONG BIRDS
Mr. John Lewis Childs tells in theAukan instance of a shrike he shot in Florida. The bird flew and tried to alight in a tree, but was unable to do so and fell to the ground. As Mr. Childs approached to capture him, the bird struggled up and fluttered away with difficulty, uttering a cry of distress. Immediately another of his kind darted out of a tree, flew to his wounded companion, and circled about him and underneath him, buoying him up as he was about to sink to the ground. These tactics were repeated continually, the birds rising higher and flying farther away till they had gone nearly out of sight and safely lodged in the top of a tall pine-tree.—Olive Thorne Miller, “The Bird Our Brother.”
Mr. John Lewis Childs tells in theAukan instance of a shrike he shot in Florida. The bird flew and tried to alight in a tree, but was unable to do so and fell to the ground. As Mr. Childs approached to capture him, the bird struggled up and fluttered away with difficulty, uttering a cry of distress. Immediately another of his kind darted out of a tree, flew to his wounded companion, and circled about him and underneath him, buoying him up as he was about to sink to the ground. These tactics were repeated continually, the birds rising higher and flying farther away till they had gone nearly out of sight and safely lodged in the top of a tall pine-tree.—Olive Thorne Miller, “The Bird Our Brother.”
(1393)
Helpfulness as Testimony—SeeWitness of Service.
HELPFULNESS, HAPPINESS IN
“Guess who was the happiest child I saw to-day,” said father, taking his two little boys on his knees.“Well,” said Jim slowly, “it was a very rich little boy, with lots and lots of sweets and cakes.” “No,” said father. “He wasn’t rich; he had no sweets and no cakes. What do you guess, Joe?” “He was a pretty big boy,” said Joe, “and he was riding a big, high bicycle.” “No,” said father. “He wasn’t big, and he wasn’t riding a bicycle. You have lost your guesses, so I’ll have to tell you. There was a flock of sheep crossing the city to-day; and they must have come a long way, so dusty and tired and thirsty were they. The drover took them up, bleating and lolling out their tongues, to a great pump, to water them. But one poor old ewe was too tired to get to the trough, and fell down on the hot, dusty stones. Then I saw my little man, ragged and dirty and tousled, spring out from the crowd of urchins who were watching the drove, fill his hat and carry it—one, two three—oh, as many as six times! to the poor, suffering animal, until the creature was able to get up and go on with the rest.”“Did the sheep say, ‘Thank you,’ father?” asked Jim gravely. “I didn’t hear it,” answered father. “But the little boy’s face was shining like the sun, and I’m sure he knows what a blest thing it is to help what needs helping.”
“Guess who was the happiest child I saw to-day,” said father, taking his two little boys on his knees.
“Well,” said Jim slowly, “it was a very rich little boy, with lots and lots of sweets and cakes.” “No,” said father. “He wasn’t rich; he had no sweets and no cakes. What do you guess, Joe?” “He was a pretty big boy,” said Joe, “and he was riding a big, high bicycle.” “No,” said father. “He wasn’t big, and he wasn’t riding a bicycle. You have lost your guesses, so I’ll have to tell you. There was a flock of sheep crossing the city to-day; and they must have come a long way, so dusty and tired and thirsty were they. The drover took them up, bleating and lolling out their tongues, to a great pump, to water them. But one poor old ewe was too tired to get to the trough, and fell down on the hot, dusty stones. Then I saw my little man, ragged and dirty and tousled, spring out from the crowd of urchins who were watching the drove, fill his hat and carry it—one, two three—oh, as many as six times! to the poor, suffering animal, until the creature was able to get up and go on with the rest.”
“Did the sheep say, ‘Thank you,’ father?” asked Jim gravely. “I didn’t hear it,” answered father. “But the little boy’s face was shining like the sun, and I’m sure he knows what a blest thing it is to help what needs helping.”
(1394)
HELPS THAT HINDER
Richard I, third Duke of Normandy, became involved in long and arduous wars with the King of France, which compelled him to call in the aid of more Northmen from the Baltic. His new allies, in the end, gave him as much trouble as the old enemy, with whom they came to help William I, his predecessor, contend; and he found it very hard to get them away. He wanted at length to make peace with the French king, and to have them leave his dominions; but they said: “That was not what we came for.”
Richard I, third Duke of Normandy, became involved in long and arduous wars with the King of France, which compelled him to call in the aid of more Northmen from the Baltic. His new allies, in the end, gave him as much trouble as the old enemy, with whom they came to help William I, his predecessor, contend; and he found it very hard to get them away. He wanted at length to make peace with the French king, and to have them leave his dominions; but they said: “That was not what we came for.”
There are helps that become hindrances, and aids that are embarrassing in the end.
(1395)
Hereafter and Here—SeeExclusion from Heaven.
HEREDITY
With regard to the inheritance of handwriting there can be no doubt. Instances of close resemblances between the writings of the members of one and the same family will readily occur to every one. A particular slope in the writing or a mode of looping the letters, or of forming certain words may be passed on for several generations, especially when they originate from a man or woman of pronounced individuality. (Text.)—C. Ainsworth Mitchell,Knowledge and Scientific News.
With regard to the inheritance of handwriting there can be no doubt. Instances of close resemblances between the writings of the members of one and the same family will readily occur to every one. A particular slope in the writing or a mode of looping the letters, or of forming certain words may be passed on for several generations, especially when they originate from a man or woman of pronounced individuality. (Text.)—C. Ainsworth Mitchell,Knowledge and Scientific News.
(1396)
SeeTransmission.
HEREDITY, CONQUERING
How many people are kept back because of an unfortunate family history! The son of the notorious bandit, Jesse James, some time ago carried off the highest honor,summa cum laude, in the Kansas City Law School. Judge Silas Porter, of the Supreme Court of Kansas, delivered the address on the occasion.For years young James has been the only support of his widowed mother. He has worked in a packing-house, attended a cigar-stand, and has done all sorts of things to secure an education and make his way in the world; and at last he has succeeded in overcoming the handicap of his fearful inheritance.His success ought to be a great encouragement to the unfortunate boys and girls whose fathers or mothers have disgraced them and placed them at cruel odds with the world.—Success.
How many people are kept back because of an unfortunate family history! The son of the notorious bandit, Jesse James, some time ago carried off the highest honor,summa cum laude, in the Kansas City Law School. Judge Silas Porter, of the Supreme Court of Kansas, delivered the address on the occasion.
For years young James has been the only support of his widowed mother. He has worked in a packing-house, attended a cigar-stand, and has done all sorts of things to secure an education and make his way in the world; and at last he has succeeded in overcoming the handicap of his fearful inheritance.
His success ought to be a great encouragement to the unfortunate boys and girls whose fathers or mothers have disgraced them and placed them at cruel odds with the world.—Success.
(1397)
Heredity of Drink—SeeDrink, Heritage of.
Heroes, Missionary—SeeMissions.
HEROISM
The newspapers tell us that the colored regiments continue to come in for praises for their good work at Santiago, and they seem to have as good a sense of humor as an Irishman:
The Rough Riders were in a bad position on San Juan Hill at one time, and it is generally admitted that they could not have held their position but for the splendid charge of the Ninth Cavalry to their support. After the worst of the fighting was over a rough rider, finding himself near one of the colored troopers, walked up and grasped his hand, saying: “We’ve got you fellows to thank for getting us out of a bad hole.” “Dat’s all right, boss,” said the negro, with a broad grin. “Dat’s all right. It’s all in de fam’ly. We call ouahselves de colored rough riders!” (Text.)
The Rough Riders were in a bad position on San Juan Hill at one time, and it is generally admitted that they could not have held their position but for the splendid charge of the Ninth Cavalry to their support. After the worst of the fighting was over a rough rider, finding himself near one of the colored troopers, walked up and grasped his hand, saying: “We’ve got you fellows to thank for getting us out of a bad hole.” “Dat’s all right, boss,” said the negro, with a broad grin. “Dat’s all right. It’s all in de fam’ly. We call ouahselves de colored rough riders!” (Text.)
(1398)
In the long watch before Santiago the terror of our great battleships was the two Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers, those swift, fiendish sharks of the sea, engines of death and destruction, and yet, when the great battle came, it was the unprotectedGloucester, a converted yacht, the former plaything and pleasure-boat of a summer vacation, which, without hesitation or turning, attacked these demons of the sea and sunk them both. I have always thought it the most heroic and gallant individual instance of fighting daring in the war. It was as if some light-clad youth, with no defense but his sword, threw himself into the arena with armored gladiators and by his dash and spirit laid them low. And yet who has given a sword or spread a feast to that purest flame of chivalrous heroism, Richard Wainwright?—Hon.John D. Long.
In the long watch before Santiago the terror of our great battleships was the two Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers, those swift, fiendish sharks of the sea, engines of death and destruction, and yet, when the great battle came, it was the unprotectedGloucester, a converted yacht, the former plaything and pleasure-boat of a summer vacation, which, without hesitation or turning, attacked these demons of the sea and sunk them both. I have always thought it the most heroic and gallant individual instance of fighting daring in the war. It was as if some light-clad youth, with no defense but his sword, threw himself into the arena with armored gladiators and by his dash and spirit laid them low. And yet who has given a sword or spread a feast to that purest flame of chivalrous heroism, Richard Wainwright?—Hon.John D. Long.
(1399)
William H. Edwards, a ‘longshoreman, twenty-five years old, who forgot race prejudice in his anxiety to be of service to his fellow men, was awarded a silver medal by the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission and also $1,000 to be applied to the purchase of a home.While theArcadia, a freight steamer, plying between Hamburg and Philadelphia, was being unloaded in June, 1908, an explosion in the cargo occurred. Most of the stevedores working below decks were knocked down and bruised, some being burned. Many of the workers deserted the ship. Smoke and flames came from the hatches. Cries of the injured below decks came to the party of men waiting on deck.Edwards volunteered to attempt the rescue of the imprisoned men. Tying a rope to a lighter, he slid into the burning hold, but could find nothing. Hearing groans he deserted his guide-rope and bending low searched in the direction of the cries of pain. After a long search he located Lucius Hubbard, a negro. Bearing the unconscious and injured workman to the open hatch, he had him hoisted to the deck and safety, following himself when assured there was no other person in the burning vessel.
William H. Edwards, a ‘longshoreman, twenty-five years old, who forgot race prejudice in his anxiety to be of service to his fellow men, was awarded a silver medal by the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission and also $1,000 to be applied to the purchase of a home.
While theArcadia, a freight steamer, plying between Hamburg and Philadelphia, was being unloaded in June, 1908, an explosion in the cargo occurred. Most of the stevedores working below decks were knocked down and bruised, some being burned. Many of the workers deserted the ship. Smoke and flames came from the hatches. Cries of the injured below decks came to the party of men waiting on deck.
Edwards volunteered to attempt the rescue of the imprisoned men. Tying a rope to a lighter, he slid into the burning hold, but could find nothing. Hearing groans he deserted his guide-rope and bending low searched in the direction of the cries of pain. After a long search he located Lucius Hubbard, a negro. Bearing the unconscious and injured workman to the open hatch, he had him hoisted to the deck and safety, following himself when assured there was no other person in the burning vessel.
(1400)
The following dispatch from Mankato, Minn., is given by the BaltimoreSun:
With one foot cut off and his legs mangled, Rudolph Elmquist, an eighteen-year-old railroad operator, crawled a mile to his operating station and sounded a warning to Mankato, which saved probably one hundred lives.Elmquist tried Friday night to get on the evening freight-train caboose for Mankato, where he boarded. He slipt and fell beneath the wheels. The freight crew saw him fall and feared he had been hurt. The train stopt about a mile away and began to back up to investigate.The St. Paul passenger train was nearly due and the track was supposed to be clear for it. As one side of the curved track is along a high embankment and river, a disastrous crash was imminent.Elmquist saw the train backing up the track and tried, waving his arms, to stop it. Failing to find him in the night, the freight crew prepared to go forward again.Elmquist again tried to attract attention, but in vain. He then began dragging himself over the grass along the track to his station and reached his key about half an hour later, suffering torture.He wired the Great Western operator at Mankato: “My foot is cut off and No. 271 is coming back to pick me up. She will have to have help against No. 142, which is due at Mankato in a few minutes.”Then he fainted and fell across his desk. He was hurried to a hospital, where it was said both legs would have to be amputated.
With one foot cut off and his legs mangled, Rudolph Elmquist, an eighteen-year-old railroad operator, crawled a mile to his operating station and sounded a warning to Mankato, which saved probably one hundred lives.
Elmquist tried Friday night to get on the evening freight-train caboose for Mankato, where he boarded. He slipt and fell beneath the wheels. The freight crew saw him fall and feared he had been hurt. The train stopt about a mile away and began to back up to investigate.
The St. Paul passenger train was nearly due and the track was supposed to be clear for it. As one side of the curved track is along a high embankment and river, a disastrous crash was imminent.
Elmquist saw the train backing up the track and tried, waving his arms, to stop it. Failing to find him in the night, the freight crew prepared to go forward again.
Elmquist again tried to attract attention, but in vain. He then began dragging himself over the grass along the track to his station and reached his key about half an hour later, suffering torture.
He wired the Great Western operator at Mankato: “My foot is cut off and No. 271 is coming back to pick me up. She will have to have help against No. 142, which is due at Mankato in a few minutes.”
Then he fainted and fell across his desk. He was hurried to a hospital, where it was said both legs would have to be amputated.
(1401)
SeeGratitude;Lost, Cry of the;Rescue.
Heroism, Domestic—SeeDomestic Heroism.
Heroism in Disaster—SeeCompensations of Providence.
HEROISM IN FICTION
There is not a mine, not a railroad, not a steamship line, not a life-saving station in America or Europe, not a city in America or Europe, that has not illustrated in its history the capacity of human nature promptly to do and dare and die. And these deeds are done as modestly, as instinctively, as frequently as they were in the days of the Civil War when thousands on both sides faced each other in a battle whose issue, whether victory or defeat, put not a cent into any soldier’s pocket; when victory stood for no more booty or beauty than defeat. And since this is so; since our plain American common people are easily capable of heroic action and chivalric conduct, why do writers like Howells persist in picturing us a people whose average life and soul are represented by dudes and dolls, by selfish or silly men and women; by knaves with a vast retinue of fools and tools? The everyday heroism of the plain common people of America is a rebuke to Howells for his low figures, and a justification of the school of fiction that fills its pages with men and women that stand for noble aspirations and inspiration. The story of high endeavor is all that keeps the world’s eye on the stars.—PortlandOregonian.
There is not a mine, not a railroad, not a steamship line, not a life-saving station in America or Europe, not a city in America or Europe, that has not illustrated in its history the capacity of human nature promptly to do and dare and die. And these deeds are done as modestly, as instinctively, as frequently as they were in the days of the Civil War when thousands on both sides faced each other in a battle whose issue, whether victory or defeat, put not a cent into any soldier’s pocket; when victory stood for no more booty or beauty than defeat. And since this is so; since our plain American common people are easily capable of heroic action and chivalric conduct, why do writers like Howells persist in picturing us a people whose average life and soul are represented by dudes and dolls, by selfish or silly men and women; by knaves with a vast retinue of fools and tools? The everyday heroism of the plain common people of America is a rebuke to Howells for his low figures, and a justification of the school of fiction that fills its pages with men and women that stand for noble aspirations and inspiration. The story of high endeavor is all that keeps the world’s eye on the stars.—PortlandOregonian.
(1402)
Heroism, Missionary—SeeMissionary Call.
HEROISM, MODEST
Bicycle Policeman Ajax Whitman, the strong man of the department, did a stunt on the new Queensboro Bridge, New York, that those who saw will never forget, and the feat is vouched for by a large crowd who witnessed the bike cop’s job.Thomas Jones, of No. 102 Fourth Avenue, and Charles Schoener went over to the bridge to string lines of flags from the various towers. Both men are steeplejacks.Jones went up the north tower of the bridge and Schoener the south. The men used their little steeplejack seats and pulled themselves up. They had rigged their ropes and pulleys and were preparing to pass a line from one to the other to string the flags across to their respective towers when Schoener saw Jones suddenly go limp in his seat at the top of the tower flagpole, fall forward against it and hang there.“What’s wrong?” called Schoener.“I’m gradually going,” was all Jones could call back.Schoener slid down his flagpole as fast as he could, all the time calling for help.Down on the roadway below the towers Whitman was walking along with his wheel. He looked up when he heard Schoener yelling and then he spotted Jones, who sagged forward in his seat like a lifeless man. Whitman dropt the bicycle and ran to the little spiral stairway that leads from the roadway to the top of the tower. Meantime, a large crowd had been attracted by the flagman’s peril. All vehicles at work on the bridge were stopt and people were running in all directions trying to devise some means of being of use. Whitman suddenly came out at the top of the tower.Just as Whitman appeared in sight the seat in which Jones was sitting became loosened and as the seat started to go downward the decorator lost his balance and shot out of the seat head downward. Whitman braced himself against the foot of the flagpole and held out his arms. Jones’ limp body shot down and the big policeman acted as a net. The body fell just across Ajax’s big arms, and then both men went over in a heap as Jones’ weight carried the policeman from his stand against the foot of the pole.Jones was unconscious and when the two men fell to the narrow flooring at the top of the tower he slipt from Whitman’s grasp and rolled toward the edge, over the river. Whitman made a desperate grab, got hold of Jones’ coat and held fast. Others below then regained their wits and ran up with Schoener and pulled the unconscious man back on the tower platform.As for Whitman, if it hadn’t been that everybody stopt work to watch the accident and so blocked the bridge no report would have been made, but Whitman had to account for the block of vehicles on the roadway and he did so by stating that “an accident to a decorator caused a ten minutes’ block of traffic on the Queensboro Bridge.”
Bicycle Policeman Ajax Whitman, the strong man of the department, did a stunt on the new Queensboro Bridge, New York, that those who saw will never forget, and the feat is vouched for by a large crowd who witnessed the bike cop’s job.
Thomas Jones, of No. 102 Fourth Avenue, and Charles Schoener went over to the bridge to string lines of flags from the various towers. Both men are steeplejacks.
Jones went up the north tower of the bridge and Schoener the south. The men used their little steeplejack seats and pulled themselves up. They had rigged their ropes and pulleys and were preparing to pass a line from one to the other to string the flags across to their respective towers when Schoener saw Jones suddenly go limp in his seat at the top of the tower flagpole, fall forward against it and hang there.
“What’s wrong?” called Schoener.
“I’m gradually going,” was all Jones could call back.
Schoener slid down his flagpole as fast as he could, all the time calling for help.
Down on the roadway below the towers Whitman was walking along with his wheel. He looked up when he heard Schoener yelling and then he spotted Jones, who sagged forward in his seat like a lifeless man. Whitman dropt the bicycle and ran to the little spiral stairway that leads from the roadway to the top of the tower. Meantime, a large crowd had been attracted by the flagman’s peril. All vehicles at work on the bridge were stopt and people were running in all directions trying to devise some means of being of use. Whitman suddenly came out at the top of the tower.
Just as Whitman appeared in sight the seat in which Jones was sitting became loosened and as the seat started to go downward the decorator lost his balance and shot out of the seat head downward. Whitman braced himself against the foot of the flagpole and held out his arms. Jones’ limp body shot down and the big policeman acted as a net. The body fell just across Ajax’s big arms, and then both men went over in a heap as Jones’ weight carried the policeman from his stand against the foot of the pole.
Jones was unconscious and when the two men fell to the narrow flooring at the top of the tower he slipt from Whitman’s grasp and rolled toward the edge, over the river. Whitman made a desperate grab, got hold of Jones’ coat and held fast. Others below then regained their wits and ran up with Schoener and pulled the unconscious man back on the tower platform.
As for Whitman, if it hadn’t been that everybody stopt work to watch the accident and so blocked the bridge no report would have been made, but Whitman had to account for the block of vehicles on the roadway and he did so by stating that “an accident to a decorator caused a ten minutes’ block of traffic on the Queensboro Bridge.”
(1403)
HEROISM RECOGNIZED
Pausing for a moment in its legislative activities, January, 1909, the House of Representatives listened to a eulogy of John R. Binns, the Marconi operator aboard the steamshipRepublic, who remained at his post following her collision with theFlorida.Binns sat in his darkened cabin on theRepublicas long as there was power to be had from the generators.Mr. Boutell, of Illinois, amid loud applause, said that throughout the whole critical period, “there was one silent actor in the tragedy whose name should be immortalized.” He specifically mentioned Binns by name, and in conclusion said:“Binns has given the world a splendid illustration of the heroism that dwells in many who are doing the quiet, unnoticed tasks of life. Is it not an inspiration for all of us to feel that there are heroes for every emergency and that in human life no danger is so great that some ‘Jack’ Binns is not ready to face it?”
Pausing for a moment in its legislative activities, January, 1909, the House of Representatives listened to a eulogy of John R. Binns, the Marconi operator aboard the steamshipRepublic, who remained at his post following her collision with theFlorida.
Binns sat in his darkened cabin on theRepublicas long as there was power to be had from the generators.
Mr. Boutell, of Illinois, amid loud applause, said that throughout the whole critical period, “there was one silent actor in the tragedy whose name should be immortalized.” He specifically mentioned Binns by name, and in conclusion said:
“Binns has given the world a splendid illustration of the heroism that dwells in many who are doing the quiet, unnoticed tasks of life. Is it not an inspiration for all of us to feel that there are heroes for every emergency and that in human life no danger is so great that some ‘Jack’ Binns is not ready to face it?”
(1404)
HEROISM, VOLUNTARY
S. D. Gordon, in “The Sychar Revival,” gives an incident several times paralleled in the histories of warfare:
There is a simple story told about the time when the British were putting down a rebellion among the Ashanti tribes on the west coast of Africa. One morning the officer in command came to speak to the soldiers as they were drilling on the level stretch of land. He said, “Soldiers, I have a dangerous enterprise to-day. I need so many men. Every man that goes may lose his life. It is as serious as that. I am telling you frankly. I could draft you, but I don’t want to. I would like to ask for volunteers. I want those who will volunteer for Her Majesty’s sake to advance a pace.” They were drawn up in a straight line, and thinking the men might be influenced by his look he swung on his heel, and off, then back again and looked. The line stood as straight as before. His eye flashed fire. “What, not a single man to volunteer?” Then a fellow standing at the end of the line next to him saluted and said, modestly, “If you please, sir, every man has advanced one pace.”
There is a simple story told about the time when the British were putting down a rebellion among the Ashanti tribes on the west coast of Africa. One morning the officer in command came to speak to the soldiers as they were drilling on the level stretch of land. He said, “Soldiers, I have a dangerous enterprise to-day. I need so many men. Every man that goes may lose his life. It is as serious as that. I am telling you frankly. I could draft you, but I don’t want to. I would like to ask for volunteers. I want those who will volunteer for Her Majesty’s sake to advance a pace.” They were drawn up in a straight line, and thinking the men might be influenced by his look he swung on his heel, and off, then back again and looked. The line stood as straight as before. His eye flashed fire. “What, not a single man to volunteer?” Then a fellow standing at the end of the line next to him saluted and said, modestly, “If you please, sir, every man has advanced one pace.”
(1405)
HIDDEN DANGERS
There is a little instrument used in war called a caltrop, named from a kind of thistle. It consists of a small bar of iron, with several sharp points projecting from it one or two inches each way. If these instruments are thrown upon the ground at random, one of the points must necessarily be upward, and the horses that tread upon them are lamed and disabled at once. History tells that Darius caused caltrops to be scattered in the grass and along the roads, wherever the army of Alexander would be likely to approach his troops on the field of battle.
There is a little instrument used in war called a caltrop, named from a kind of thistle. It consists of a small bar of iron, with several sharp points projecting from it one or two inches each way. If these instruments are thrown upon the ground at random, one of the points must necessarily be upward, and the horses that tread upon them are lamed and disabled at once. History tells that Darius caused caltrops to be scattered in the grass and along the roads, wherever the army of Alexander would be likely to approach his troops on the field of battle.
(1406)
Hidden, The, Exposed—SeeDetection.
HIDDEN VALUES
In an effort to locate a diamond ring valued at $450, which an elephant had swallowed while being fed peanuts, three expert X-ray operators and four elephant-trainers worked a whole day photographing by the X-ray process the entire interior of the elephant. In making the pictures, the largest X-ray machine ever made was used.There were made eighteen plates in all to get a complete diagram of the elephant’s interior. The ring was found in the beast’s stomach.—The Electrician and Mechanic.
In an effort to locate a diamond ring valued at $450, which an elephant had swallowed while being fed peanuts, three expert X-ray operators and four elephant-trainers worked a whole day photographing by the X-ray process the entire interior of the elephant. In making the pictures, the largest X-ray machine ever made was used.
There were made eighteen plates in all to get a complete diagram of the elephant’s interior. The ring was found in the beast’s stomach.—The Electrician and Mechanic.
(1407)
High Prices Responsible—SeeDetection.
HIGHER CRITICISM
What if Moses did not write the Pentateuch? What if it were written by another man named Moses? When a child is hungry, it is not interested in a dispute whether John Smith or James Smith planted the apple-tree. What it wants is the apple, because it is hungry. The patient has suffered a grievous accident, and the surgeon must operate. In that hour ether must be used, or the heart will not survive the agony. In such a critical moment, who cares whether Dr. Morton or Dr. Simpson discovered the saving remedy? It is ease from pain that the feeble heart demands. Your friend is in trouble in Europe, and you must send him a cable of relief. The English people claim that two Englishmen laid the Atlantic cable, and that Cyrus Field was only their American agent, occupying a very subordinate place, while Americans say that Mr. Field was the father of the Atlantic cable. When an emergency comes, and the child is in trouble in a foreign land, the father does not care to dispute over the precedency of inventors. What he wants to do is to send a message under the sea. Don’t dispute over the Bible, therefore, but use the Bible. He who analyzes a flower must lose the sweet rose. When a pilgrim is crossing the desert, one handful of wheat for hunger is worth a bushel of diamonds. Remember the useand purpose for which the Bible was written. It is a guide to right living, it shows the path to God’s throne.—N. D. Hillis.
What if Moses did not write the Pentateuch? What if it were written by another man named Moses? When a child is hungry, it is not interested in a dispute whether John Smith or James Smith planted the apple-tree. What it wants is the apple, because it is hungry. The patient has suffered a grievous accident, and the surgeon must operate. In that hour ether must be used, or the heart will not survive the agony. In such a critical moment, who cares whether Dr. Morton or Dr. Simpson discovered the saving remedy? It is ease from pain that the feeble heart demands. Your friend is in trouble in Europe, and you must send him a cable of relief. The English people claim that two Englishmen laid the Atlantic cable, and that Cyrus Field was only their American agent, occupying a very subordinate place, while Americans say that Mr. Field was the father of the Atlantic cable. When an emergency comes, and the child is in trouble in a foreign land, the father does not care to dispute over the precedency of inventors. What he wants to do is to send a message under the sea. Don’t dispute over the Bible, therefore, but use the Bible. He who analyzes a flower must lose the sweet rose. When a pilgrim is crossing the desert, one handful of wheat for hunger is worth a bushel of diamonds. Remember the useand purpose for which the Bible was written. It is a guide to right living, it shows the path to God’s throne.—N. D. Hillis.
(1408)
HIGHER LAW, THE
It is told of the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia, that soon after he was assigned to duty as midshipman, his vessel was wrecked off the coast of Denmark. The Admiral commanding resolved to save the young man, and ordered him to take charge of the first boat which put off from the doomed ship. The Grand Duke disdained safety thus bought and declined. “My duty is here,” he said to the admiral, “and I must be the last to leave the ship.” “Do you not understand, sir,” exclaimed the admiral, “that you are under my command? And do you dare refuse obedience to my orders?” “I know my duty,” answered the midshipman, “and I will obey any orders you may see fit to give me, except an order to leave the ship, where my duty now commands me to remain.” The admiral gave up his point and Alexis was the last man to leave the ship, and after landing, was promptly ordered under arrest for disobedience of orders. He submitted without a murmur. The admiral sent dispatches to the Emperor detailing the affair, and the Emperor wrote: “I approve your having placed the midshipman under arrest for disobedience, and I bless my boy for having disobeyed.” (Text.)
It is told of the Grand Duke Alexis of Russia, that soon after he was assigned to duty as midshipman, his vessel was wrecked off the coast of Denmark. The Admiral commanding resolved to save the young man, and ordered him to take charge of the first boat which put off from the doomed ship. The Grand Duke disdained safety thus bought and declined. “My duty is here,” he said to the admiral, “and I must be the last to leave the ship.” “Do you not understand, sir,” exclaimed the admiral, “that you are under my command? And do you dare refuse obedience to my orders?” “I know my duty,” answered the midshipman, “and I will obey any orders you may see fit to give me, except an order to leave the ship, where my duty now commands me to remain.” The admiral gave up his point and Alexis was the last man to leave the ship, and after landing, was promptly ordered under arrest for disobedience of orders. He submitted without a murmur. The admiral sent dispatches to the Emperor detailing the affair, and the Emperor wrote: “I approve your having placed the midshipman under arrest for disobedience, and I bless my boy for having disobeyed.” (Text.)
(1409)
SeeDeception Justified.
HIGHER LIFE