The Home Literary Garden
By Mary Alice Hare Loper
The Danger from Noxious Weeds—The Care That Should Be Taken of the Mind—The One Greatest Book of All By Mary Alice Hare Loper, M. S. It is a matter of wonder to some, that certain people, otherwise considered up-to-date, cling to the old-fashioned petunias, marigolds, etc., instead of supplanting them by later, more popular varieties, such as generally hold a conspicuous place in flower gardens of fashionable people. It is a matter of mystery to many seemingly intelligent minds, why some very intellectual people cling to the old-fashioned Bible, and to literary productions that harmonize with its blessed principles, instead of exchanging them for the latest productions of pretentious authors. WEEDS OF “NEW THOUGHT” AND “HIGHER CRITICISM”
So-called new thought and higher criticism are seeking to perfect some improvement(?) upon the Word of inspiration, by eliminating the spines from the thistle of unbelief, and the prickles from the cocklebur of infidelity. But the thistle and the cocklebur are there just the same, and are even more dangerous because of their more innocent appearance. The good old orthodox doctrine that every soul will be saved who chooses to accept salvation, is now made to read that every soul will be saved anyway, even though the broad road to destruction be traveled from life’s dawn till its close. This sounds sweet to the unbelieving ear, but it is a deception and a snare which one day will be revealed in all its disappointing forcefulness. Thorns and thistles in the vegetable world are the result of the curse of sin; and it is the same in the literary world. It is blessed to know that some day these enemies of all good will cease to be; but the sad part of it is, that persons who cherish and feed upon the poison of sin, will also cease to be, instead of enjoying an eternity of happiness. If a child should say, “Mother, may I pick a bunch of nettles?” the reply would surely be negative: “Why, no, my child; they would sting you.” But many children are plucking literary nettles, while their fond parents seem oblivious to the fact that the children are mentally stung. Yet a mental sting may be far more deadly than a physical sting. The latter affects only this life, while the former may be so severe as to rob its victim of that life which measures with eternity. Bad reading is one of the most productive sources of evil in all the world. There is nothing harmful that it may not accomplish, even to converting to heathenism those who have experienced the blessedness of Christian influences. “Higher criticism” and “new thought” are as powerless to save souls as are the Christless religions of heathen lands. And parents who set the example of sanctioning such productions, need not be surprised when they see their children leading godless lives. THE CAREFUL LITERARY GARDENERS
Parents who are careful literary gardeners, cherish the historical century plants, the biographical forget-me-nots, the oratorical jack-in-the-pulpits, the thoughtful pansies, the laughing baby blue-eyes, the meditative asters, chrysanthemums, etc. But, alas, how many a twentieth century literary garden is grown up to weeds—nux vomica of harmful fiction, deadly nightshade of crime and debauchery, smartweed of sickening youthful romance. There is the persistent Bermuda grass of atheism and infidelity, sown broadcast years ago by such pitiable characters as Voltaire, Paine, and Ingersoll. It propagates from every joint, and is a plague to all literary gardeners. If left to flourish, it will choke out the fragrant flowers; and without vigilance and earnest effort after it has taken root, it may never be eradicated. In seeking to get rid of Bermuda grass, it is not a matter of plowing it under once, as with many less tenacious weeds, but of plowing it many times, exposing it to a frigid atmosphere, or to the annihilating rays of the hot sun. It does not die easily. Vigilant care is required to keep the home literary garden free from harmful intruders, which are found in every locality. MAY FEED ON LITERARY WEEDS
Children should be taught to distinguish between the profitable and the unprofitable plants in the literary field. No child is capable of choosing reading from the public library until he has learned this. A child may easily form the habit of satisfying his mental appetite upon noxious weeds. Slow poisoning is as possible in the intellectual as in the physical being. Literary narcotics cause a craving appetite, which is as hard to overcome as the narcotic drug habit; and they are as deadly to the spiritual welfare as drug narcotics are to the physical welfare. Little by little a child may become accustomed to literary poison; and if allowed to continue the practice, he may become a veritable mental inebriate. Beware of the literary toadstool, so fatal to children—the comic Sunday supplement. Beware of all the annual weeds—light trash, written by numerous inconspicuous authors, whose shallow thoughts may well be compared to the roving tumbleweeds of the rolling prairies. All these soon disappear, but their evil effects remain, and the time spent in reading them is worse than wasted. When the sower went forth to sow good seed, the divine parable tells us that an enemy sowed tares. There is never a literary field of promise in this world where the same old enemy does not seek to choke out the good seed in the same manner. In all the realm of vegetation, there is nothing, perhaps, that more fitly represents the blessed Bible than does the banyan tree of India. From its branches roots grow, and reach downward to the ground, forming a series of smaller trunks, one tree thus covering a wide area, and forming a shade sufficiently extensive to cover perhaps thousands of people. Wherever the Bible is established, it reaches down into the hearts of men, taking root, and springing up into new life. Its blessed influence spreads as perceptibly as do the branches of the banyan tree; and to the pilgrim on the way to the celestial city, it is “as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.” GREEN IN SNOW AND SUNSHINE
Specimens of the sequoia gigantea, found only in California, are considered the oldest living vegetation on the earth. These famous big trees remain green alike when mantled with the snows of winter, or bathed in rain or golden sunshine. The Bible is the oldest book in circulation, and it remains unchanged through all the ages. No enemy can annihilate it, for it is of heavenly authorship. The same One who created the vegetation of the earth, created the living thoughts of the Bible; and these will still live when the libraries of the world, and all vegetation as we see it, have been reduced to ashes. The banyan tree and the sequoia gigantea are found on but a small portion of the earth’s surface; but the Book of all books is found in nearly all parts of the world, and may be had “without money and without price.” The Bible is the most precious plant in the literary garden. There is nothing that fitly represents it, because it is capable of imparting immortality. Cherish it, prize it, feed upon it. And may its living principles be so inculcated into your everyday life that you, too, may live when this old earth has passed away.