delegated me to ask this question of you: We have in our congregation one of the purest and most lovable men you ever saw. He is upright, honest, generous, the heartiest supporter of the church we have—the friend of the poor, the beloved of little children, a veritable saint—but he does not believe the doctrine of the Trinity. Now, where do you think he will go after death?" Mr. Beecher was equal to the occasion. Hesitating a moment, he said: "I never dare say where any man will go after death, but wherever this man goes, he certainly has my best wishes."
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A polliwig swims about in a muddy pool and appears happy and contented. It is in its element. After a while it develops into a frog and climbs up on the bank. Altho it has attained to a higher state of existence, it has a tendency for the old life. It does not go very far away from the muddy pool. It stays near it, that it may take an occasional dip. A boy comes along and stones it, and it leaps back into the muddy pool. The boy looks about for some other moving object. He sees a lark not far away and hurls a stone at it. The skylark spreads its wings for flight. As it soars upward, it sings clearer and sweeter until it is far above the reach of its tormentor.
The contrasted tendencies of men resemble
those of the polliwig and the
lark. There is a world of meaning in
the brief statement about Judas, "that
he might go to his own place." (Text.)
(747)
DESTINY OF NATIONS
The destiny of nations! They arise,
Have their heyday of triumph, and in turn
Sink upon silence, and the lidless eyes
Of fate salute them from their final urn.
How splendid-sad the story! How the gust
And pain and bliss of living transient seem!
Cities and pomps and glories shrunk to dust,
And all that ancient opulence a dream.
Must a majestic rhythm of rise and fall
Conquer the peoples once so proud on earth?
Does man but march in circles, after all,
Playing his curious game of death and birth?
Or shall an ultimate nation, God's own child,
Arise and rule, nor ever conquered be;
Untouched of time because, all undefiled,
She makes His ways her ways eternally?
—Richard Burton, The Century Magazine.
(748)
DESTRUCTION, GRADUAL One morning visitors staying in Venice were told that an ominous report was in circulation concerning the Campanile, and that so certainly was a disaster expected that the old architect who had charge of the Palace of the Doges and of the tower of St. Mark's Cathedral had stolen out of the city, unable to bear the thought of the approaching catastrophe. A guide took visitors to the tower and pointed out little piles of sand that had trickled down from between the bricks. It was dangerous to stand there and the party retreated. The next night news went all over the world that the Campanile had fallen. But the accident had not happened suddenly. The Campanile had been through centuries preparing for its fall. Slowly the moist air of the lagoon had slaked the lime, and the acid of the smoke had disintegrated the mortar. A thousand minute injuries were slowly inflicted, and gradually the foundations settled and cracked. So it is with character in individuals and communities. Falsehood, insincerity, vanity, dishonesty, selfishness and infidelity pull down institutions and bring even empires crashing in ruins.
(749)
DESTRUCTION NECESSARY It has been calculated that, as fish produce so many eggs, if vast numbers of the latter and of the fish themselves were not continually destroyed and taken they would soon fill up every available space in the seas. For instance, from 60,000,000 to 70,000,000 codfish are annually caught on the shores of Newfoundland. But even that quantity seems small when it is considered that each cod yields about 4,500,000 eggs every season, and that even 8,000,000 have been found in the roe of a single cod. Were the 60,000,000 cod taken on the coast of Newfoundland left to breed, the 30,000,000 females producing 5,000,000 eggs every year, it would give a yearly addition of 150,000,000,000,000 young codfish.—Public Opinion.
(750)
Destructive Criticism—See Satire.
