portance of employing ladies at the police office
to examine women who are arrested for crime. The police cannot always
depend on having a newspaper man around.

ABOUT HELL.

An item is going the rounds of the papers, to illustrate how large the
sun is, and how hot it is, which asserts that if an icicle a million
miles long, and a hundred thousand miles through, should be thrust
into one of the burning cavities of the sun, it would be melted in
a hundredth part of a second, and that it would not cause as much
"sissing" as a drop of water on a hot griddle.

By this comparison we can realize that the sun is a big thing, and
we can form some idea of what kind of a place it would be to pass the
summer months. In contemplating the terrible heat of the sun, we are led
to wonder why those whose duty it is to preach a hell hereafter, have
not argued that the sun is the place where sinners will go to when they
die.

It is not our desire to inaugurate any reform in religious matters, but
we realize what a discouraging thing it must be for preachers to preach
hell and have nothing to show for it. As the business is now done, they
are compelled to draw upon their imagination for a place of endless
punishment, and a great many people, who would be frightened out of
their boots if the minister could show them hell as he sees it, look
upon his talk as a sort of dime novel romance.

They want something tangible on which they can base their belief, and
while the ministers do everything in their power to encourage sinners by
picturing to them the lake of fire and brimstone, where boat-riding is
out of the question unless you paddle around in a cauldron kettle, it
seems as though their labors would be lightened if they could point to
the sun, on a hot day in August, and say to the wicked man that unless
he gets down on his knees and says his now I lay me, and repents, and is
sprinkled, and chips in pretty flush towards the running expenses of
the church, and stands his assessments like a thoroughbred, that he
will wake up some morning, and find himself in the sun, blistered from
Genesis to Revelations, thirsty as a harvest hand and not a brewery
within a million miles, begging for a zinc ulster to cool his parched
hind legs.

Such an argument, with an illustration right on the blackboard of the
sky, in plain sight, would strike terror to the sinner, and he would
want to come into the fold _too_ quick. What the religion of thi