196 The Gospel and the Law in Relation to Liquor Traffic. [July, the blame was laid on the friends of that eminent church father; and Olympias and Pentadia were charged with having incited them to it. Both these Deaconesses defended themselves in a worthy manner against the charge; and Chrysostom, greatly beloved by them, wrote to Pentadia: "They have done every thing to compel you through fear, to say the opposite of what you know to be true; but, like a lofty soaring eagle, you have broke through their nets, and have not suffered yourself to err through their devices; but in reference to the charge of inciting to the burning of the church, which the miserable people sought to fasten on you, they have themselves been set forth in the public light as slanderers." THE GOSPEL AND THE CIVIL LAW IN RELATION TO THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC. BY THE EDITOR. THE holy scripture goes farther in its demands in this regard than it would be proper to ask of the law of the land. The law regulates the traffic, not manufacture. It does so now in regard to liquor. It says any one may make, because it is needed for many purposes; but any one may not make a business of selling it as a drink, because the law implies that this is ruinous to man. Ruiuous because it holds out the temptation to evil. The law says any one may drink it, because he injures only himself thereby, which it is not the province of the civil law, but of the gospel to forbid. But it says one may not sell it to another to drink unless under the restrictions of law; because one has no civil right to work for the injury of another. He may make it and drink it, and is accountable only for any wrong acts that result from it, when those acts are committed. Thus far, no farther, the law may go. But the law has a right to regulate or prohibit the sale or traffic of any article from the sale of which evil results flow to others than the seller. Citizens have a perfect right to ask for such laws. Legislatures have a right to pass them, and men are bound at their peril before God and man to obey them. That is a fearful clause in our legal code which allows Judges to grant licenses. It entails a fearful responsibility on them. Back to that power God will trace the evil results of the traffic. They may grant-they may refuse they take a fearful responsibility in making the may into a must, and go fathering a responsibility which, by refusal, they may disown! The law of the land regulates acts, the gospel motives-the spirit of acts. The requirements of God's word always go back to beginnings of evil, and forbid not merely wrong actions, but also whatever will lead to wrong actions. Thus it forbids: แ What may not be evil in itself, but which may be taken as evil by another, and thus made the ground of censure to the person himself, and disparagement to the cause in which he stands. "Avoid the appearance of evil." A man may be wise and steady enough to go to the brink of a precipice, and it may be right for him so to do; but not if his example leads on another who has not the wisdom and sense to stop, but will rush over it. Then his right becomes a wrong. His act has the appearance of safety to him for whom it is not safe. Thus also, if even meat cause my brother to offend, I may not eat meat," as St. Paul teaches. This principle commends itself to every rightly attuned mind. Parents act on it, when they restrain themselves from doing and speaking many things in the presence of their children, right in themselves, but wrong as misleading or injuring the feeble wills and capacities of the children. What are many of our fellows but children-inexperienced, weak, and unguarded. weak." "Ye that are strong ought to support the TO MY MOTHER. BY G. G. TAKE, take this tribute, mother, And keep it ever, mother, And say it was from me. Tell all who see it, mother, And would its meaning learn, Who loved thee in return. Should some unkindly day, mother, Then take this tribute, mother, And keep it ever, mother, FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. BY A. C. REINCHL. THE character of a true woman is always lovely, and at times mysteriously subblime. It is lovely, as seen in the influence she exerts in the sphere of home. There, her presence diffuses sunshine and joy. Her sweet smile and beaming look enliven the heart, as the warm rays of the vernal sun cheer the flowers on the hillside, and her kind words of affection act on the spirit like strains of heavenly music. Her love of neatness and order is displayed in every part of her household, and Peace, Contentment, and Harmony, ever dwell by her fireside. But it is when sorrow and disease enter the home, when misfortune comes and happiness fiees at its approach, "When the blessed seal, That close the pestilence are broken, when the dark angel of death spreads his black wings over the land, and horrors and dismay blanch every face, that the lofty grandeur and sublimity of the true woman shine forth in all their glory. Then it is that all her energy and her many virtues which have hitherto bloomed in her breast, like half opened flowers, burst forth in their full blown beauty. She binds up the broken hearts of the sorrow-stricken, and speaks words of consolation to the victims of misfortune. When the pestilence walketh abroad at noonday, when death holds carnival in palace and hovel, and man the strong and brave, shrinks away and flees in terror, woman, the true hearted one, calmly meets the dread foe, and struggles to stay his desolating course. She fearlessly walks in the foul air of contagion and ministers to the distressed. Such has the true woman ever been, whether found like Mary of old, following a persecuted Saviour to the foot of the Cross, or braving the horrors of crowded hospitals to relieve suffering humanity, like Florence Nightingale, the Ministering Angel of the Crimea. Our heroine, the daughter of an English gentleman, was born beneath the sunny skies of Italy, in Florence, the mecca of artists throughout the world. All the virtues which make her sex lovely dwelt in her heart. From earliest childhood, gentleness of disposition and benevolence marked her character, and to know her was to love her. It might be said of her like Milton's Eve, "Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her eye, She was thoroughly educated, and besides her many other accomplishments, was well acquainted with domestic duties, an example which many of our accomplished ladies would do well to follow! She had early acquired a passion for travelling, and while in the full bloom of womanhood, we see her wandering amid the fruitful vineyards of sunny France, or sadly musing over departed glory by the falling waters of the fountain in the deserted Court of the Alhambra; gliding in Venitian gondolas over the moonlit waters of the Adriatic, viewing with wonder the oriental magnificence of Eastern cities, or holding sweet communion with her God at the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. Few there are, who, after visiting scenes like these, would not sit down, and folding their hands, recall from the storehouse of memory the pleasant recollections of the past. Thus might Florence Nightingale have done, for a life of luxury and ease awaited her at her home in England, but the true womanly spirit within her, would not permit her to be a drone in the world. For several months she was at Kaisenwerth on the Rhine, where Protestant Sisters of Mercy are taught to nurse the sick in a proper manner, and here, by a severe course of training she acquired that knowledge, which in after years proved a blessing to suffering humanity. Returning to England, she did much service in reducing the disordered elements of the London Sanatorium to harmony and effective order, and then retired to the shades of her Derbyshire home. It was while she lived thus secluded, that the clouds of war which had been gathering in the political sky of Europe, moved towards the land of the Russian, and at last hung in one dark mass, like "an Embodied curse" over the peninsula of the Crimea. Turkey and her English and French allies had invaded the dominion of the Czar, to stem the swelling tide of Russian aggression, and never, perhaps, was there a more desperate and bloody war. The nations of the world, like spectators around a prize-ring, beheld the struggle with deep interest, and well might they, for the contest was between four of the most renowned nations of Europe. Florence Nightingale, shut out from the world, cared little for the intelligence of battles and sieges, bold charges and deadly hand-to-hand conflicts. But as the war progressed, rumor with her hundred tongues came, bearing mournful news to England. Brave men who had nobly fought, and who had been carried from the field covered with wounds, were placed in crowded hospitals to die from exposure and want of care. Thousands who had escaped the terrible steel and deadly balls of the Russians, perished from heartless neglect. 'Tis said that the sailor quietly sleeps while the gale shrieks around him and the thunders peal over head, and heeds not the groaning of the bending mast and the rattling of blocks above him; but when the shrill whistle and the hoarse cry of the boatswain, "Watch, Ahoy!" sound on deck, he instantly springs from his hammock and hastens to his post. Thus was it with Florence Nightingale. Calmly she had heard the distant thunders of war around the walls of Sebastopol, but when the wail of suffering humanity came to her ears from the Crimea, her heart leaped within her breast, like the sailor at the well known call. Pity, and her twin Sister Mercy, plead with her, and Deity bade her hasten to the relief of her gallant countrymen. Let us follow her on her mission of mercy to the Crimea accompanied by a band of noble women whom she had inspired with her own heroic spirit. At night when darkness veiled the sky, ye have often seen the clouds break and scatter, and have felt emotions of joy, when the calm moon appeared in her full splendor, and one by one the stars came out and dispelled the dusky shadows. Thus did the arrival of these horoic women produce a cheering effect. Their coming was hailed with enthusiasm by the English, and Hope once more shed its "star-like rays " through the despairing hearts of sick soldiers. Rumor had not lied. The hospitals were a disgrace to any nation, civilized or barbarous, and the neglect with which the British government treated its wounded men, will be another dark blot, in addition to the many which already stain the red banner of St. George. The reformation of these crying evils, Florence Nightingale undertook, and nobly did she do her duty. Fearlessly moving in the foul air of hospitals at Balakava and Scutari, and braving the danger of disease and contagion, she did much to mitigate the sufferings of the gallant but neglected inmates. By her exertions, the wounded were supplied with suitable beds and wholesome food, and every attention was paid which the tender heart of woman could suggest for the alleviation of woe. At night, when the battle or skirmish was over, and weary warriors slept, when the watch-fires burned low, and no sound disturbed the stillness of the camp save the low moan of the wounded, and the cry of "All's Well," as the sentinel paced his lonely round, Florence Nightingale and her companions were found by the bedside of the sick attending to their many wants unmurmuringly, and raising the spirits of the desponding, as the gardener binds up the trailing vines torn down by the storm. On the battle plain, when the dead and wounded strewed the ground like the fallen leaves of autumn might this noble woman be seen as an angel of mercy, bathing the fevered brows and moistening the parched tongues of poor wretches who lay writhing in agony. Thus through the war did she act, strewing blessings like flowers around her, and many a soldier snatched from the clutches of the destroyer, lived to tell of her noble deeds of self-sacrifice and devotion. It is not only the knife of the Surgeon and the medicine of the Phy sician that heal the sick, for often the careful nursing of woman accomplishes more than either. Her kind touch soothes the agitated nerves as effectually as the sedative of the Apothecary, and her cheering words of comfort are to the execited mind like "oil upon the troubled waters." Many a gallant man whose bones now moulder beneath the sod of the far distant Crimea, might still be living to recount his deeds, had a gentle mother or wife, instead of rude surgeons or unskilful comrades, ministered by his couch. The war on the Crimea, after nearly two years of constant bloodshed ended, and History once more took up her pen, and dipping it on the blood of the slain, began to write the events of that struggle. Many gallant deeds will be recorded there. There will be described in glowing language the charge of the "Light Brigade." When "Cannon to right of them, Cannon in front of them, Volleyed and thundered; Stormed at with shot and shell Boldly they rode, and well, Into the mouth of death, |