He answered, "Yes, a great deal." Then
I inquired what was the effect, as he had noticed it. And the reply
was instant and emphatic:

"_Always_ evil!"--

Carlyle tells of "patriots" in the French Revolution who shaved each
other out of the fragments of bomb shells, and wore ghastly trophies
from the guillotine. But short of a Reign of Terror, making all men
mad, one does not expect such things. Few people (I fancy) if they
knew it, would care to use the glass from which some poor wretch had
drunk his draught of poison; and even to touch the murderer's knife
stored up in a public museum, would turn most hearts sick. But if you
could only see as God sees; if things in society were but labelled and
classed; you would find your cards dark with the soul-life blood of
thousands, and could hear their ruin in every fall of the dice.

I was much interested in a recent English essay ("On the Criminal Code
of the Jews") to find how the typical Israel regarded games of chance.
As if something of the old blessed "The Lord is our King," staid by
them, even in the days of their downfall. The writer says:

"All who made money by dice-playing or any games of hazard, by betting
on pigeon matches and similar objectionable practices, were not only
incapable of becoming members of a tribunal, but were not permitted to
give evidence. The Ghemara regards a man who gains money by the
amusements named, as dishonest."

[1] Once pastor of the Mercer Street Church, New York, and Professor in
Union Theological Seminary.

[2] Prov. xvi. 33.

What Left?

But you will say, I leave nothing for you, then; no amusements, no
recreation. Is that true? Is the narrow way indeed so barren, that we
must step out of it to rest? Has the Lord only food and water for his
flock, and when they need change and refreshment must they leave their
Shepherd, and go over to the wolf for a run upon the hillside? That
sounds hard for weak human nature--and strange, for a Lord of boundless
resources. And somehow the Bible pictures of the flock shew wondrous
contentment. "A stranger will they not follow." [1]

Then following the Master must be very sweet; for all men like variety,
and the mere fact of a new voice is of itself enough to draw one aside.
Yet "a stranger will they not follow, but will flee from him,"--O how
much that tells! And here we touch the very root and spring of true
refreshment, of real recreation. For while good gen