The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1884-05-28


Is your damnation. "God shall wound Il
Il hairy scalp of him that goeth on in h
:, trespasses.
n The clock strikes midnight; a fa
l form bends over a romance; the ey,
|, flash fire; the breath is quick and irregi
3 lar; occasionally the color dashes to tt
< cheek and then dies out; the hant
t tremble as though guardian spirit wer
trying to shake the deadly book out c
/ the grasp; hot tears fall; she laugh
: with shrill voice that drops dead at ii
a own sound; the sweat on her brow is th
| spray dashed up from the river of death
: the clock strikes four, and the ros,
dawn soon after begins to look through
: the lattice upon the pale form that look
! like detained spectre of the night
, soon in a mad-house she will mistak,
her ringlets for curling serpents, and
thrust her white hand through the bars
of the prison and smite her head, rub
bing it back as though to push the scalp
| from the skull, shrieking my brain!
my brainp Oh, stand off from that.
Why will you go sounding your way
amidst the reefs and warning buoys,
when there is such vast ocean in which
you may voyage, all sail set?
4 There Is one other thing / shall say
this morning before leave you, whether
you want to hear 1t or not; that is, that
consider the
/ BAD PICTORIAL LITERATURE
I Of tho Joxy ,s ,o.t t-o,,, -, ! 80. r. =.
There is no one who can like good pic
lures better than / do. But what shall
| say to the prostitution of this art to
purposes of iniquity? These death war
rants of the soul are at every street
corner. They smite the Vision of the
young with pollution. Many a young
man buying copy has bought his eter-
nal discontinue. There may be enough
poison in one bad picture to poison one
soul, and that soul may poison ten, and
the ten fifty, and the hundreds thous-
ands, until nothing but the measuring
line of eternity can tell the height and
depth and ghastliness and horror of the
great undoing. The work of death that
the wicked author does in a whole book
the bad engraver may do on half side
of pictorial. Under the disguise of pure
mirth the young man buys one of these
sheets. He unrolls it before his COM
rades amidst roars of laughter, but long
after the paper is gone the results may
perhaps be seen in the blasted imagina-
tiOns of those who saw it. The queen of
death every night holds a banquet, and
these periodicals are the printed invita-
tion to her guests. Alas, that the fair
brow of American ant should be blotched
with this plague spot, and that philan-
thropists, bothering themselves about
smaller evils, should lift up no united
and vehement voice against this great
calamity.
Young man, buy not this moral
strychnine for your soull Pick not up
this nest of coiled adders for your pocket
Patronize 40 news stand that keeps them.
Have your room bright with good en-
cravings, but for these iniquitous picto- |
rials have not one wall, not one bureau, |
not one pocket. A man is no better |
than the picture he loves to look at. If |
your eyes are not pure your heart can
not be. One can guess
THE CHARACTER OF A MAN
by the kind of pictorial he purchases.
When the devil fails to get man to |
read bad book, he sometimes succeeds |
in getting him to look at bad picture |
When Satan goes a-fishing he does not |
care whether it is a long line or a short |
line, if he only draws his victim in.
If | have this morning successfully |
laid down any principles by which you
may judge in regard to books and news |
papers, then / have done something of |
which / shall not be ashamed on the |
day which shall try every mans work,
of what sort it is. Cherish good books |
and newspapers. Beware of the bad |
ones. One column may save your soul
one paragraph may ruin it. Go home |
to-day and look through your library.1
and then look on the stand where you |
keep your pictorials and newspapers,
and apply the Christian principles / !
have laid down this morning. If the5e
is anything in your home that cannot
stand the test, do not give it away for it
might spoil an immortal soul; do not
sell it, for the money you get would be
the price of blood; but rather kindle a
fire on your kitchen hearth or in your
back yard, and then drop the poison in
it and keep stirring the blaze until, from
preface to apendix, there shall not be a
single paragraph left.
Against every bad pamphlet send
good pamphlet; against every unclean
picture send an innocent picture agains:
every scurrilous song send Christian
song; against every bad book
SEND A GOOD BOOK.
The good literature, the Christian liter
ature in its championship for God and
the truth will bring down the evil lit
erature in its championship for the
devil. feel tingling to the tips of my
fingers and through all the nerves of my
body and all the depths of my soul the
certainty of our triumph. Cheer up,
0 men and women who are toiling for
the publication of society! Toll with
your faces in the sunlight. If God be
for US, who can be against us?
Lady Hester StanhOpe was the daugh-
ter of the third Earl of Stanhope, and |
after her nearest friends had died she
went to the far East, took possession of |
a deserted convent, threw up fOrtresses
amid the mountains of Lebanon, opened |
the castle to the poor and wretched who |
would come in. She made it home |
for the unfortunate. She was a devOut |
Christian woman. She was waiting for
the coming of the Lord. She expected |
that the Lord would descend in person,
and she thought upon it. until it was too
much for her reason. In the magnifi- |
cent stables of her palace she had two
horses groomed and bribled, all ready |
for the day on which her Lord should |
descend, and He on one of them, and |
she on the other, should start for Jeru-
salem. There was romance and thrill |
ing expectation in the dream. All, my |
friends we need no earthly palfreys for
our Lord when he shall come. The |
horse is ready in the equerry of heaven,
and the Imperial rider is ready to mount
Horsemen of heaven, mount Calvalry-
men of God, ride on! ckargel charge!
until they shall be hurled back on their |
haunches-the black horse of famine |
and the red horse of carnage, and the
pale horse of death. Jesus foreyeri
The Wrong Text.