PACIFIC CHRISTIAN MESSENGER, FRIDAY, JULY 11, 1879.
2
ment for immortality. His arguments known thee ; but I have known thee,
were really three. The first was the and these have known that thou bast
THE DKÁTB or SOCRATES ARD THE DEATH OF
distinctness between ths soul and the »ent me.” “ I have finished the work
jbscb .--
body, as testified to by what was the which thou gavest me to do.” Soc­
(The Bev. Phillipa Breoka, hefore the Yale
favorite doctrine of Socrates,—the rates tells of a demon or angel who
Theological Seminary.]
soul's preexistence. If the soul ex­ has the care of every man’s soul
No one can read the Gospel of St. isted before the body, it surely might while he is alive, and when he is
John, and then turn to what is left us outlive it. In his second argument dead takes himdq the place of judg­
of the life of Socrates, without being he pleads the immortality of the soul ment. Jesus says: “ I will pray the
»truck and almost startled with the from its simplicity. Here Simmias Father, and he shall give you another
suggestive comparison between the and Cebes interpose two exquisite Comforter, that he may abide with
account of Christ’s last talk with his difficulties : the one arguing that, you forever.” “ He shall testify of
disciples before his crucifixion, which after all, the soul may be to the body me.” The sage consoles his disciples
is given in the thirteenth to the what the music is to the lyre; the by sending them out to find, other
seventeenth chapters of that Gospel, other, that the body may outlive the teachers. “ Greece is a wide place,
and the beautiful story of what Soc­ soul, as the cloth outlives the weaver and there are in it many good men ;
rates said to Cebes, Simmias, and his by whose hand it is made. Socrates and there are, besides, many races of
other friends in prison at Athens, just replies to both of them and satisfies barbarians —all of which are to be
ii__ ____ ,1 ai __ ____
Vio 4-lUwJ ’AVAlnrAiJ
uoarrh nf «nmA nnA whn
before he drank, the hemlock ; and no­ them ; and then goes on to his third explored in search of some one who
can
perform
such a, charm as we have
where could the essential difference, argument, in which he tries to estab­
explained.
”
The Savior says to his
as well as the likeness, become more lish the distinction between the idea
apparent; nowhere could the critics, and the perishable attributes of disciples f “ I-will not leave you com­
who loosely clasp Jesus and Socrates human life. His arguments are all fortless, I will come to you.” Socra­
together, see more clearly where the surrounded with an atmosphere of tes says : “ If you will take good care
line is drawn beyond which Socrates feeling, reverence for God, affection^ of yourself, you will always gratify
cannot go, beyond which the nature of for his disciples, and a tender sense of me and mine.” Jesus says: “ Love
duty. These play around and through one another as I have loved you.”
Jesus sweeps out of our sight.
The story-of St. John is familiar the whole discourse, and give each And, if we let our eye run out beyond
enough. The points in the story that sentence a richness which is not hard the times when both the tragedy of
Plato tells I may venture to recall to and cold, and which does not rely Athens and the,tragedy of Jerusalem
you. The upper chamber of Jerusa­ wholly on the worth of the argument were completed, and see what was
lem, where the Savior sits with his for its power. The whole scene re­ , thought of the two sufferers, we hear
disciples at supper, is set off against mains as one of the sacred pictures of Phiedo closing: “This was the end,
the rugged prison opening upon the the human soul. That prison-cell is O Echechtates' of our friend; of all
Agera of Athens, where, in an inner one of the temples of men’s faith, one men whom we have known the best,
chamber, the friends of Socrates have of the vestibules of immortality. Still, the wisest, and the most just.” Nay,
come to talk with him once more be­ the discourse is an argument; it is a before the poison was given by the
fore he dies. The old man sits upon struggle of the intellect. It is con­ jailer’s hand, we hear him say to his
his bed, rubbing the spot on his leg soled by the thought of the divinity great prisoner: “I have found you
from which the fetter has' just been behind it, which will make allowance the noblest, the gentlest, and the best
taken off. The relief that he feels in for its deficiencies; but it feels no that ever came here.’’ And then our
his leg upon the removal of the fetter direct and present influence from the thoughts turn to Jerusalem ; and we
hear the centurion and the soldiers
gives him occasion to commence his presence of that divinity.
Now turn the leaves of four who crucified Jesus exclaiming:
talk. By and by he drops his foot
upon the floor, and so sits on the bed­ hundred years, and in the chamber of “ Truly this was the Son of God.” I
side, calmly talking.. Once he drops the passover feel the difference. As know not what to say to any man
his hand affectionately upon the head Jesus speaks,. argument disappears who does not feel the difference.
Worth Repeating.
of Phsedo, who sits beside him. His
wife comes in, with their three boys,
and he talks with them kindly ; but
there is no tenderness in his words,
and after a while he bids them to be
taken away. The humor that played
through all his life is with him to the
last, as when he bids his disciples:
“ Bury me whatever way you like;
only you must catch hold of me and
take care that 1 do not give you the
sli|>.” Once comes a message from
the executioner to tell him about the
poison he will have to drink ; a sharp
fundamental note intruding on the
music of his thought, that somehow
reminds us of the passing of Judas
out from the Passover table. There
is one beautiful moment when the
disciples are half convinced, but still
frightened and trembling. Socrates
reads it in their faces and charges
them with fear, when Simmias bursts
out: “ Suppose that we are frighten­
ed ; do you encourage and comfort us.
But, rather, suppose that we are not
frightened; that there is a child
within us who is frightened.” And
Socrates says : “ Ah! yes. We must
find some charm that we can sing
over this frightened child to quiet
him.” And so he goes on with his
talk again. Phiedo afterward recalls
the impression that his master made
upon him in words like these: “ I
had no painful feeling of pity, as
might seem natural to a person pre­
sent at such a scene; nor did I feel
pleasure, as when We talked philoso­
phy, though the discourse was of the
aame kind. It was a peculiar feeling
that possessed me, a strange mixture
of pleasure and pain, because I knew
that he was soon to die.” All through
the conversation one can hear the
sounds of the religious festival in
which the Athenians are engaged out­
side,—the passover, as it were, of the
Athenian life. At last, without a
shock, calm and peaceful to the last,
the great man takes the cup, drinks
the poison, and all is over. There
lies his body, more eloquent in silence
than ever in the words that he said.
And now what was it that they
were talking about on that last day ?
The discussion varied a little at first;
but soon it became a sustained argu- I
and conviction is at once attained.
“ If ye had known me, ye should have
known my Father also. He that
hath seen me hath seen the Father.
In my Father’s hduse are many man­
sions. I go to prepare a place for
you.” That is the argument of Jesus
for immortality. It is not right to
say that Socrates appeals to the
reason and fails, while Jesus speaks
to the heart and succeeds. The ap­
peal of Jesus is to the reason too;
only it is to that spiritual reason
which has no special function of the
nature, but is the best action of the
whole nature working together,—the
affection and the will being the
partners of the brain, or, rather, being
one manhood with the brain and
sharing its intelligence. The differ­
ence of result," in one word, is the
difference between convincing the in­
tellect and making the man believe.
I do not know that I can make
this clearer, and 1 must not steal the
time to quote largely from the words
of Jesus in support of what I mean ;
but let us select sayings of both Jesus
and Socrates and compare them to­
gether in pairs. The philosopher
asks : “ Shall a man who really loves
knowledge, and is firmly persuaded
that he shall never enjoy it except in
the other world, be sorry that he has
to die T’ The Son of God declares :
“ I go to him that sent me.” Socrates
says: “ Be well assured that I shall
be with the gods, who are good
governors (of this I am as certain as I
can be), and with good men departed
(though of this I am not so certain)."
Jesus cries: “ And now, O Father 1
glorify thou me with thine own self,
with the glory which I had with thee
before the world was.” Socrates
draws in confused but in elaborate
detail the road to Hades. Jesus says:
“ In my Father’s house are many
mansions.” * Father, I will that
they also whom thou hast given me
may be with me where I am.” Soc­
rates is noble in his frank uncertainty
about his .life: “ Whether I have
tried in a right way and with what
success I shall know certainly when I
arrive there, if it pleases God.” Jesus
is divine in his certainty: “ O right­
eous Father! the world hath not
The Sanctuary of Grief.
I From the French by Mme. de Guparin. ]
t
nant agony, even while the lips ere
discoursing of common things^ y.
and perchance with smiles.
Then the heart will commune with
its beloved dead in a sacred stillness
which even the tenderest sympathy
may not break. Then are lavished
forth those expressions of endearment
perhaps in life but charily bestowed ;
then perhaps is forgiveness craved,
confessions are poured forth with
burning tears, all the springs of
emotion are stirred to their very
depths, and harmonies so sweet and
solemn are ringing in the temple of
the soul, that even a friend's voice
mingling therewith would seem to jar
and give pain as a discordant note.
Oblivion ? Nay, think not so! a
sanctuary, a holy of holies, shrouded
with a veil forever.
Old Earth in Terrible Throes.
Mount Etna is in full eruption.
Thirty craters are vomiting fire,
smoke, dust and ashes. ’Fhey cover
several square miles, and all pour
forth lava. Much alarm is felt in the
vicinity. This is in the island of
Sicily. Here were the fabled forges
of Cyclops; and it is called by Pin­
dar the pillar of heaven. Eruptions
are mentioned as occurring 1693, B. C.,
and Thucydides speaks of three erup­
tions taking place in 734, 477, 425,
B. C. There were eruptions in 125,
121, and 43, B. C. In 1169, A. D,
Catina was overwhelmed and 15,000
inhabitants perished in the burning
ruins. .
In .1669, tens of thousands of per­
sons perished in the streams of lava
which rolled over the whole country
for forty days. In May,1830, showers
of lava reached nearly- to Rome,
several villages were destroyed. In
1832, the town of Bronte was desolate
ed. The volcanoes has been prepar­
ing for this grand affair since 1865.
Vesuvius, not willing to be beaten,
has kindled her fires afresh and is in­
creasing their intensity. In the year
79, A. D., this giant of volcanoes
buried Pompeii and Herculaneum be­
neath its ashes. 250,000 persons
perished as they walked and talked
and eat and drank. Among them
Pliny, the naturalist, came to his
death. In 1623, Terre del Greco was
destroyed, and 4,000‘ perished, and
much of the country around the
mountain was desolated. The most
terrible eruption took place in 1759.
One of the most violent bursts took
pla
1767, the 34th from the time
of
In 1794, the lava flowed
over 5,000 acres of rich vinyaids and
cultivated lands, and the town of
Torre del Greco was again burned.
The top of the mountain then fell in
and enlarged the crater to ten miles
in circumference. Eruptions in 1855
1858, 1859, and 1860, all were des­
tructive. December, 1861, Terre del
Greco was again destroyed.
It strikes me that I should rather
live farther from spontaneous com­
bustion. The grand old chimney of
the earth may give timely notice of
its intentions, or it may not. I
would like a small sea at least be­
tween us.— Apostolic Times.
Grief is a delicate and ""fragile
flower, fading even more easily than
joy, but never wholly dead. Like the
rose of Jericho, though seemingly
dried and withered past recognition,
yet, if but one warm breath pass over
it for a moment, it will bloom again
with renewed freshness. “ Even in
laughter the heart is sorrowful,” and
those who seem to forget have often
the saddest hearts. In each and all
of us life is two-fold; two beings
dwell within us, one active, busy, ab­
sorbed in the duties and pleasures of
this world; while the other is sadly
and dreamily living in the past,
treading with tears the former paths,
stopping to remember a look, to pur­
sue a shadow.
Yes, even the frivolous man of the
world has his memories; a gentle
voice reechoing from the past; one
confiding word; one “ touch of a
vanished hand ;” something sudden,
unexpected, and lo! the flood-gates
are opened, and the waves of sorrow
are rushing over him ; his heart beats
quick, he seizes once again with a
passionate intensity the image of his
beloyed one,—it is his, it is not dead,
and the joyous loving past lives again
for him.
But when we see light returning
*' The women and children in the mills
to the eyes that wept, when life bej
and
factories of India are greatly oppres­
gins to flow again in its wonted chan­
sed. “Of all the classes that toil for a
nels, then we are apt to say, “ that
livelihood,” said the Earl of Shaftaburry
which is finished is finished, and the in Parliament, “there is none so helpless,
memory of the dead has perished so friendless and subdued as these women.
They are doubly slave—slave to the mill
forever.”
owner, and slave to their husbands, who,
Not so.
After those first days when the disregarding the sufferings of their wives,
anguish of separation is lacerating the revel at ease in their bard won earnings.
They have no public opinion on their be­
heart, and it cares not to conceal the half, no press, no paid or voluntary agita­
depth of• its wounds, there comes a tors.
____ _____
__ _____
_ eyes
Iu their ______
distrrm-tUeyTift
their
reaction, an over-powering desire, a 1 to the Imperial Par) Um «nt, »nd rin.ll it be
craving for isolation ; a holy jealousy rrp)i«<l, ruy Ioni». thU ‘oq itn «id« of their
takes possession of tne soul, the gates
»here i" power, but that the op-
l>r«»axd li*l uo coruforter ? Htmvan tur­
are barred against intruders, the <l«Min« bili »neb su ix»u- 1 F ir y-<ix y»>r< n<o I
of the chamber of death • re sealed,; ■uiilr-MM-d th« H'>nw of Gommoni in »
kimlr-xi appeal, and they bea d mo ; I
the brow » taught to deny every-1 wow tarn to yonr iurilxhipa, an i I implore
thing, tortures, memories; while yon in tue .WM »pirn, for <>«xl'» nuke,
iu Li« num«, to Lave ruercy on the
within, ah, within ! the lamp of sor­ and
children.”
row is burning with an ardent glow,
—If ve enjoyed all oar religions privil­
and many a passing word will make eges,
sa we might, *e would have no ose
the heart- strings quiver with a poig- for the word doty.
Politeness Exemplified.
While at Providence, Rhode Island
says a writer in the Springfield Re­
publican, I met Mrs. Mary A. Diver-
more at the house of a friend. At ta­
ble the conversation fell upon the-
subject of politeness.
The hostess
told of a friend of hers, a little anti­
que in her manners, for whom a re­
ception was given by one of the Bea­
con street aristocracy of Boston. At
dinner the guest poured out her tea in
her saucer to cool it, a method of re­
frigeration which was quite au fait
thirty years ogo. The guests looked
surprised, and some were inclined to
jmile at her simplicity and ignorance
of high-toned propriety, but the lady
of the house poured some tea into her
saucer and drank it therefrom. Thi»
was considered a hint to all, and the
guest was immediately placed at her
ease.
Mrs. Livermore said : “ I was once
the recipient of a very marked polite­
ness of a similar sort. When I was in
London my husband and I received a
verbal invitation from Lady Vilas,
whom I had met once or twice pleas­
antly, to come to her house next even­
ing and meet a few friends of hers.
We accepted and went. But I was
deceived by the informality of the in­
vitation, and supposed it was merely
to meet half a dozen neighbors or in-t
timate friends. So we went out ridT
ing in the afternoon, stopping here
and there on our way back to the ho­
tel. Judge of my amazement to find
the house illuminated, and a very
large and brilliant party assembled in
full dress ih my ho,nor. There I was
in plain carriage dress, bonnet, and
black gloves !*’
“ What in the world did you do ?”
inquired a young girl.
• “ Why, I went right into the house
and to the ladies’ dressing room,
whence I sent a note to the hostess
saying that I misapprehended her in- ,
vitation and was not in appropriate
costume. She ran np and reassured
me by telling me they had come to
see me and didn’t care for the dress,
and carried me right down with her.
All in full dress, and the ladies with­
out hats, and hair elaborately dressed;
I with brown drees, bare hands, bon­
net on. I soon recovered the self-pos­
session which the faux pas somewhat
disturbed, and was greeted with
splendid cordiality. In a few minutes
Mr. Livermore edged around behind
me and whispered, ‘ Didn’t you think
Mary, that all these ladies had on
white kids when you came in T I
looked around, and they were all bare­
handed ! More-over, I observed that
a half dozen had bonnets on. Thi»
half a dozen rapidly increased, till wo
were in a majority; and I soon dis­
covered that no lady who arrived af­
ter I did had removed her hat Now"
that is what I call politeness.
Another.
•‘Another little wave
Upon the sea of life,
Another soul to aavt
Amid its toil and strife :
Two more little hands
To work for good or ill,
A little thoughtless brain,
A little nntanght will.
Two more little feet
To walk the dusty road,
And choose where two paths meet,
The narrow or the broad.”
—Life is made np of experiences, and
each experience is necessary, else it would
not be. We often think we have-failed
when we are defeated in some purpose we
had in view ; but coaid we behold the
wisdom displayed in the thwarting of our
petted plana, we would be reedy to accept
the result, let that be what it w„nld. Wer
like little.children, often desire tbut which*
is not well for us to have. Oar wants are
always gre tter than onr nee. eeities ; but
«is well ihat we aspire. iLe buds of
Bpringtpm- aspire to lx» the fruits of Au­
tumn, and the ripened fruit contains a
germ that wait» in ,eace for the good time-
coming, when it Mn.ll burst into life al;»»
and become a living entity in tue world ef
being.
Of the ninety-nin« criminals in the
Ohio penitentiary for life, nine-tenth»
of them owe their present condition to
the use of whisky, the curse of thi»
generation.