Dread and Dreadnoughts.
Why do they call our monster battleships Dreadnoughts? Of course, because the first of the big fighters, the famous English vessel, received that name. But why did it receive that name? Because the people are in dread of attack, and the big ship was built to relieve that dread.
Wars are primarily matters of fear rather than of anger: fear of injury, fear of injustice, fear of spoliation. And the remedy for that fear is supposed to be the inspiring of a more intense fear in the minds of our possible enemies.
What an unchristian system it all is! What a tissue of dreads, so foreign to the peace that passes all understanding, the peace that the world cannot give and also cannot take away!
Our religion should be a Dreadnaught. To every trusting soul it should furnish a defense in danger, an assurance of safety, more quieting than all the fleets of all the world combined. Love is the best ammunition. Good will is the best armor plate. Kindness is the most powerful cruiser. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall dread naught, for Thou art with me.
How to Lay a Ghost.
Scotland possesses many a haunted house and many a ghost-inhabited apartment. A story is told of a guest who arrived at one of these specter-favored abodes so late at night that he was placed in the only room that was ready, the haunted chamber.
He pooh-poohed the story of a ghost, and gladly took the accommodations offered him; but when he put out his light, his courage went out with it. Oo-oo-oo! Anything was possible in that blackness. He rose, found his revolver, and put it under his pillow. Ghosts may not mind bullets, but the feel of the handle was comforting. So he fell into uneasy slumber.
At midnight he awoke. Perhaps a ray of moonlight fell across his eyes. Perhaps it was the solemn strokes of the clock, proclaiming the hour. At any rate—horrors!—he beheld a great, fat, white HAND at the end of his bed.
He lay paralyzed with terror. At last, he reached tremblingly under his pillow, pulled out the pistol, clinched his teeth, and fired at the ghostly hand. Then he gave a howl that woke the household. He had shot off two of his own toes.
Believe the story or not,—I believe it,—yet you may learn from it a useful fact or two about ghosts. They are always a bed's length away. And the covers are always short. If you want to demonstrate their reality, Fire!
In other words, the various specters that frighten our souls, the hobgoblin fears and worries and dreads that are the nightmares of our lives, originate within ourselves; they are our selves. Keep in touch with yourself, learn to recognize yourself to the farthest toe-reach of your fancy, and you will laugh all the spooks off the premises. And if you don't—then hobble around as best you can on the few toes you will have left!
Do Not Jump.
A man in Boston had a friend who asked him to ride in his automobile. The man agreed, as who would not? The friend lost control of the car and it smashed into a telephone pole. As soon as the man realized that his friend had lost control he jumped from the car, striking on his head. He was taken to a hospital, but he died that night from his injuries. In trying to avoid one death he had met another, while his friend, who stuck to the car, came off unharmed.
This event should be remembered when we are in danger, or think we are in danger. Often it is more perilous to flee from peril than to face it. Often the safest way is to stick to the automobile, though it seems to be crashing to destruction. You are at least in the midst of cushions. You have at least some chance of guidance. Nothing is quite so hazardous as a wild, frightened plunge into the unknown.
If you think this incident has no bearing beyond automobiles, just watch life awhile.