p. 280 | Signs of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 18. (3/6/1893)

Earlier text: HOW CAN WE LEARN THE WILL OF GOD CONCERNING US?

THE VALUE OF MEDITATION.

By Rev. D. Sutherland

BY REV. D. SUTHERLAND.

MARK GUY PEARSE speaks of meditation as "a lost art," and there is but too much truth in the opinion he has thus expressed. The conditions of life in our day are unfavorable to that concentration of thought and isolation of spirit which are of the very essence of meditation. Life is lived now at a pressure and amid distractions practically unknown in the good old times, when men had leisure enough to taste to the full the sweets of reflection, if they were so disposed.

The altered conditions of life in our day only emphasize the need for and the value of meditation. The tyranny of the world is felt keenly by every thoughtful mind. The exacting demands of professional activity, the exhausting rush of business claims, and the weary routine of domestic cares, make all of us prisoners. We are shut up in the cell of our own occupation. Two doors open a way for us out of the influences which "crib, cabin, and confine" us. One is sleep, the other is meditation. Sleep leads us into the green fields of dreamland, where the sun always shines, where the fragrant flowers are always in bloom, and where the dust and din of the city are unheard. Meditation takes us by the hand out of the pestiferous atmosphere and hard ways of the world in which most of us have to live, into quiet pastures, where a healing benediction falls on the weary spirit, and new strength comes with the endeavor to live a nobler life.

The value of meditation is indorsed by the habitual custom of the God man, the Lord Jesus Christ. It was his practice to rise early in the morning and retire to some solitary place, in which he gathered strength for the work of the day. Such seasons of solitude were highly prized by him. There can be no doubt that the unbroken calm and restful energy which characterized his activity found their source in these morning meditations. As it was with the Master, so has it ever been with his most distinguished disciples. In the moods and places of silence, where man was far away but God was very near, they won the serenity of spirit and power of endurance that enabled them to fulfill their mission in life. Paul received a training in the seclusion of Arabia which equipped him more effectually for his apostolic labors than all the lessons he was taught at the feet of Gamaliel. The lonely Isle of Patmos was for John the Divine a school in which the deepest mysteries of the spiritual life were unveiled. Martin Luther could not have been the Reformer of the Middle Ages but for the convictions formed in the solitary struggles of the monastery. John Bunyan's silenced lips and prison meditations brought to Christendom the gift of the "Pilgrim's Progress." Other examples must rise to the reader's memory of eminent workers for God who found inspiration in meditations which led them into the secret place of the Most High.

The old Puritan theologians used to say that three things went to the making of a theologian. These were meditation, temptation, and prayer. It may be that much of the shallowness of the thinking of our day on the problems of experimental religion is due to the neglect of meditation. One thing is certain: a firm grip of and a living acquaintance with the fundamental experiences of the Christian

life can be had only by long and solitary pondering over spiritual truths. As the river is fed by the little streams it takes to itself on its way to the sea, so the life large with the largeness of Christ is fed by the moods of meditation which the experiences of each new day bring to the Christian eager to improve his opportunities of spiritual culture. Gurnall says that "meditation is prayer's handmaid." Another Puritan writer declares that "meditation and prayer are like the spies that went to search the land of Canaan; the one views and the other cuts down, and both bring home a taste of the fairest and sweetest fruits of heaven. Meditation, like the eye, views our mercies, and prayer, like the hand, reacheth in those mercies." The truth of this utterance will be cheerfully corroborated by every reader who has tasted the fruits of devotional meditation—fruits which are as real a foretaste of the joys of heaven as the grapes of Eschol were of the fruits of the promised land.

A sharp distinction must be drawn between meditation and reverie. Too many Christians think they are meditating when they are only dreaming. Sitting with an open Bible on your knee and thoughts wandering at random may be pleasant, but it cannot be helpful, for it is merely a passive condition of the mind, which verges on vacuity. While meditation has in it a passive element, it is largely active in its concentration of the mental faculties upon the object of contemplation, whatever that may be—whether the person of Christ, his redemptive work, or the revelation of his mind and will in the Scriptures. Christianity is strenuous in thought as well as in action. The more intense the meditation, the more precious the blessings it brings.

Meditation's supreme value is the door it opens into communion with God. George Macdonald says beautifully and truly in one of his best books: "Every door leading to God is a door opening outward—out of self, out of worldliness, out of sinfulness." He who keeps the door of meditation shut, bars himself out of the sweetest experiences of life, for he refuses to enter that inner chamber where our Father in heaven is waiting to talk with his children. God is always speaking to us, in the voices of his revelation, of his providence, and of his Spirit, but for most of us the voices of the world are so loud that they silence the voice of God. In the hushed stillness of the sanctuary of meditation it is very different. There the voice of love sounds like music in our ears, the restfulness of God calms the fever of life, and the peace which passeth understanding rests like a benediction upon our spirits.

However busy the day may be, we must resolutely strive to sweeten and strengthen it with golden minutes of meditation. Even ten minutes of solitary communion in the morning will make the day what otherwise it cannot be. It will bring us into fellowship with God, and carry into our work a transforming influence which brightens with the glory of heaven the prosaic tasks of earth.—New York Observer.

SATAN'S POWER.

By Joseph Clarke

BY JOSEPH CLARKE.

By reference to Luke 4:5-7, it seems that the arch deceiver and tempter took Christ upon some very elevated place and brought before him a complete exhibition of the world in all its beauty and glory, and immediately offered it all to our Saviour on condition that he would, by one act of homage, recognize him (Satan) as his peer. Our Lord does not deny the statement made by the enemy as to his claim to this world.

That Adam and Eve did by one act of disobedience recognize Satan as a superior, and a leader, no one can deny (see Gen. 3:1-7), and that designing, crafty apostate has not been slow to demand all that was forfeited through his deceptive influence (see Eph. 2:2). He is called by the apostle Paul "prince of the power of the air," hence we infer that Satan has power to cause disease by poisoning the atmosphere; he is the cause of accidents; and calamities, by sea and land, hurricanes, tornadoes, cyclones, hailstorms, and all the rage of the elements, are caused by him. See "Great Controversy," Vol. 4, pages 407, 408. But it is a pleasant thought that he cannot destroy except by permission. See Job 1:12; 2:6. We see by this the necessity for prayer for protection.

"THE TROUBLE IS DUE TO THE PASTOR."

By The Christian Advocate

ONE of the daily papers, in speaking of a probable split in a congregation, says: "The trouble is due to the pastor, who opposes dancing and beer." The King's Daughters and King's Sons, a young people's society in the church, decided to give a dance Thanksgiving evening in a hall where beer is sold. The pastor preached against it, saying it was not the thing for the King's Daughters and Sons to do this. The society recalled the invitations and changed its name to the "Young People's Association." The invitations were re-issued.

This phrase, "The trouble is due to the pastor," recalls a scene from the Old Testament: "And it came to pass, when Ahab saw Elijah, that Ahab said unto him, Art thou he that troubleth Israel? And he answered, I have not troubled Israel; but thou, and thy father's house, in that ye have forsaken the commandments of the Lord, and thou hast followed Baalim."

A proper writing would have been this: The trouble is due to the young people, who were determined to have a dance in a hall where beer is sold, against which the pastor, in the discharge of his duty, protested.—The Christian Advocate.

COUNTING NOSES.

By The Armory

THERE are many persons whose remedy for existing evils is votes. If they can get a majority to vote this way or that, then something can be accomplished; and so they estimate the future of the church and the nation and the world on the basis of the census. Such an estimate is erroneous. It avails but little for the cause of righteousness to "count noses," if the majority of the noses are red ones, and, besides, a numerical estimate is sure to be an erroneous one. When someone was asked what he thought of Xerxes' army of five million men, he said, "There are many mouths, but few hands—many men, but few soldiers."

God's work has ever been done by minorities; one man, strong in God, can chase a thousand of those men who simply count. One Elijah on the summit of Carmel is a match for all the prophets of Baal, and all the apostates that feed at Jezebel's table. One man reasoning of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, and thundering the wrath of God which is revealed against all unrighteousness, counts for more than a score of learned Nicodemeses who have never been born again, or a whole Sanhedrin of rabbis and scribes who are pecking at phrases, and disputing about forms, and striving to take him in his talk. Gideon did not win his battle with thirty thousand warriors, two-thirds of whom were in a hurry to get home. His force was too large; his army must be thinned out and whittled down till the three hundred could take the pitchers and the lamps, and cry, "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon," and conquer with that battle cry.

Man of God, do not fear being in a minority; do not fear to stand alone; fear nobody but God; fear nothing but sin, and let the world count and recount its multitudes. Let the men who draw all their inspiration from the census, reckon their forces and imagine prosperity or adversity, danger or safety, according to the figures they find there; but let men of God know that one man with the Lord is stronger than all the hosts of Satan, and that if God be for us, all hell may rage against us in vain. Stand for the right, stand for the true, stand for the Lord, and, having done all, stand. Those heroic souls who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, were every man of them on the unpopular side; not one of them had a majority with him. The majority bowed the knee to Baal; the majority knelt before the golden image which Nebuchadnezzar set up; the majority prayed to King Darius, while Daniel's windows were open towards Jerusalem; the majority builded no arks, but perished in the flood; the majority went down in the fiery storm that burst upon the cities of the plain; and the majority is likely to be wrong to-day as it was then.

Let the servants of the Lord strengthen themselves in him; let them be of good cheer; let them fear not the foe; and when the hosts of hell assail them, let them, instead of worrying their souls over census reports, cry to the living God for help in time of need, for deliverance in the hour of danger, for blessing which the Lord alone can give.

Man of God, hold fast the faith. Let others number Israel, but let it be yours to trust in him whose hosts no man can number, who counts the stars, who rules the world, who marshals the angels, who delivers his people, who will never leave nor forsake his saints. One man following the Lord of heaven may overturn the devices of a thousand of crafty hypocrites. One man with a voice that cannot be silenced, with a pen that cannot be bought, with a spirit that knows no fear, can stand like a rock in the midst of the ocean's billows, and abide when winds and waves are hushed to rest, and be found at last crowned with light among those who are "more than conquerors through Him that loved us."

THIRTEEN WAYS OF BEING HAPPY.

HAPPY is the man whom God correcteth, for he maketh sore and bindeth up.
Happy is that people whose God is the Lord.
Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help.
Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding.
Happy is the man that feareth alway.
Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth.
He that hath mercy on the poor, happy is he.
Whoso trusteth in the Lord, happy is he.
He that keepeth the law, happy is he.
If ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy are ye.
If ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye.
Behold, we count them happy which endure.
If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them.—Sel.

When Prayer Delights Thee Least

WHEN prayer delights thee least, then learn to say, Soul, now is greatest need that thou should'st pray.

There’s None Like Thee, O Lord

By Miss Jewsbury

In the dark winter of affliction’s hour, When summer friends and pleasures haste away, And the wrecked heart perceives how frail each power It made a refuge, and believed a stay; When man all mild and weak is seen to be— There’s none like thee, O Lord! there’s none like thee! Thou, in adversity, canst be a sun; Thou hast a healing balm, a sheltering tower, The peace, the truth, the life, the love of one, Nor wound, nor grief, nor storm can overpower Gifts of a king—gifts frequent and yet free— There’s none like thee, O Lord! there’s none like thee! —Miss Jewsbury.

A HOME-LY GIRL.

By Elizabeth P. Allan

"WHAT a homely face!" said a lady to her companion, as an ugly girl stepped into the street car, and took a seat opposite.

The person addressed was a beautiful old lady with white hair. She glanced at the newcomer, and saw with pain that the thoughtless criticism had reached her ears, and wounded her.

"I think," then answered the old lady, "that she looks like a home-ly girl in that sweet, old-time sense of a girl who could make a home."

The face across the aisle brightened so responsively that it almost ceased to be ugly, and when the first speaker left the car, the girl, after an instant's hesitation, took the vacant seat by the old lady.

"I wish I knew," she said impulsively, "just what you meant by a girl's making a home; it seems to me that girls find homes ready made for them."

"But not completely made," said the sweet old voice. "There is always need of girl help, I think, in a home; sometimes the need is for baking and brewing, but there is no such need, I fancy, in your home?"

She was looking at the unostentatious but rich dress.

"No," said the girl simply.

"Some other times," continued the old lady, "a great many times, a girl's work is to bring all the members of a family together, and thoroughly interest them in one another."

The bow drawn at a venture was aimed by that blessed Providence who knows when sparrows fall, and went straight to the mark.

"Thank you," said the young girl. "This is my place to get off; good-by."

She bought the yards of ribbon she had come for, in an absent-minded way, and started home.

"I will walk," she said to herself. "I can think better."

Acquaintances bowed to her unnoticed, as with lifted head and farseeing eyes she moved briskly up the crowded way.

"What's the matter with Emily Vane?" said one merry girl to another.

"Oh, she's on some high horse or other!" laughed the girl. "She is away out of sight of us earthly mortals."

And indeed Emily's young heart was overflowing with enthusiastic resolves.

"How strange it was for that old lady to pick out the very thing I ought to have been doing all this time!" she said to herself; and memory pictured before her all the years that she and her home folks had occupied their luxurious house, each one living to himself, and having no real home community of plans and interests.

Emily left square after square behind her rapid feet, all the time planning to do thus and so, with the confidence of youth, nay, with the overconfidence of one who says, "Tomorrow I will go into such and such a city, and buy and sell and get gain," when suddenly a bit of slippery pavement brought her down with a sharp cry.

It was quite a serious accident, one of the small bones of the ankle being fractured, and poor Emily suffered intolerably while kind strangers carried her into the nearest apothecary's. A surgeon was at hand, and by the time the hurt ankle was properly set and bandaged, Mr. Vane had answered the telephone call in a carriage.

All through the trying time, though "the rasp of the flesh was so sore," Emily was passionately regretting her marred plans.

"I can't begin to be a home-ly girl," she moaned to herself. "Oh, how hard to bear!"

But on the third day of her imprisonment to the couch Emily's eyes were suddenly opened.

"Why, it's the very thing!" she said. "I couldn't have managed it better if I had done it on purpose."

"What will you think of me, little sister, if I say I am almost sorry that you are getting well?"

"I think I could find something sweet in that speech," Emily replied, looking up at big brother John from her couch. But the couch was downstairs now, and she was even beginning to walk a little on Grandfather Vane's stick. Decidedly she was getting well.

"Yes," answered John, "somehow this has seemed more like home, since we have had your couch to tie to. We reserved people are getting acquainted with one another."

"We were always ready to die for one another," laughed Ned from the other end of the room. "But somehow we never understood fraternal relations. Did you do it on purpose, sis?"

"What, break my ankle?" she asked archly.

"No; shake us all up together this way?"

Then she told him the story of the old lady in the street car.

"My homeliness had been a bitter trial to me until then," Emily confessed. "I don't think a man can understand what a hard lot it is for a woman to be without any of those personal charms that make a woman loved. But that dear old lady drew out the sting when she told me what compensation might be in store for a 'home-ly girl.'"

"God bless our home-ly girl!" said the father, who had come in unperceived.

"Tell us your old lady's name, sis," cried John. "I'll go and take her a posy for her happy words."

"You can't do that," said Emily, smiling. "I never saw her before, and don't know who she is. Perhaps she will have to wait till we all get to the blessed Home, for the grateful thanks of the 'homely girl.'"—Elizabeth P. Allan, in Congregationalist.

THE WINE OF THE BIBLE.

Why Farmer Newberry Gave up Taking a Drop Now and Then.

"BILL, ye may argify all day, and ye can't git them words out o' the Bible where it says 'wine that maketh glad the heart of man,' and 'give strong drink to the heavy hearted,' and 'use a little wine fer yer stomach's sake,' and 'give strong drink to him that is ready to perish,' and more of the same kind, which I'd find fer ye if I wasn't in such a hurry to git that hay in from the south medder."

That evening the weekly paper arrived, and Bill—otherwise William H. Newberry, aged twenty-two, graduate of the State Normal school, son of Farmer Newberry, studying to

fit himself for teaching—came upon a notice of a lecture by a woman, entitled "The Bible on Wine," to be given at the village, four miles distant, a few evenings later. When the time arrived, he rode to the village on horseback, provided with paper and pencil, and determined to take full notes.

The lecture was intensely earnest and unanswerable in the positions taken. William was entranced. He learned in one hour more than he could have collected for himself in a week. Being a rapid writer, he noted every main point and many of the details. He also spoke to the lady after the meeting, readily obtaining permission to copy her lists of Bible references, and when he returned home felt that he could do more than "offset" his father's verses.

The next day proved to be rainy, and as the "south medder" was cleared of hay and the other work well in hand, Farmer Newberry was very willing to hear William's account of the lecture. After breakfast and a drop of gin he seated himself in a broad-armed rocker on the veranda and said: "Now, Bill, sail in and tell us what she said. Len'me hear how she got over the 'wine fer yer stomach's sake' and about the wine at the wedding."

"The word used in the Bible is kalon, and it is the same word that Jesus used when speaking of the tree that brought forth good fruit," said William. "And he never said wine, but always fruit of the vine. But even if we admit that the words—well, admitting that the words used leave the case evenly balanced as to fresh grape juice and intoxicating liquor, the scale is easily turned by asking whether Jesus would be likely to furnish a liquor to make people drunk instead of a delicious and health-giving beverage, such as he is making in all the grapes as they grow; and I do not think anyone would be long in"—

"Bill, that's enough. After this, when I hear of Bible wine, I'll first find out what kind is meant before I think of a lot of drunken, sprawling patriarchs. But how about the other kind of wine, the kind that makes folks drunk—if they take too much, which I don't?"

"There's plenty of condemnation for that, as we all know; seventy-one texts against it in the Hebrew Scriptures, five of them requiring total abstinence; terrible denunciations everywhere, and woe pronounced upon those who make others drunk; but there was not time to consider both sides in one lecture."

"And then, the principal reason these women have for looking up this question, is to show that the word 'wine,' when used with bread for communion, does not necessarily mean intoxicating liquor."

"Look a-here, Bill, do they use regular liquor in churches?"

"Nearly all the churches did use fermented wine until the last few years. Many have abolished it, and the prospect is that very soon nearly all will follow."

"I declare! I never thought before of liquor in the church! Why, they'd be wanting a drink up in heaven! I ain't no church member, but if I wanted to be one, I wouldn't go where they'd hold liquor under my nose. Why, if a man should swear off and get a taste in church, it might knock his new leaf resolutions higher'n a kite."

"Yes, that is precisely what has occurred in many cases, and is what the temperance people are trying to prevent."

"Let 'em do it and I'd help 'em if I could."

And then he dropped his voice and asked in a hesitating manner, "Bill, d'ye s'pose my takin' a drop now and then, when I don't feel well, or want it fer some other reason—d'ye s'pose anybody, that is, d'ye think anyone else would be led to—to take mor'n he ought to?"

"Well, father, I did not intend to mention the matter, but I did overhear a remark last evening that made me wish your example was on the side of total abstinence. Neighbor Smith whispered to the man at his side that he guessed he could take a little if old Newberry could."

"Did Smith say that? Why, he's half drunk every few days. If he follows my example in drinking, I wonder if he'd follow me if I'd stop. Maybe I could help him, and save his wife and children from a lot of trouble."

And, with a resounding whack on the arm of his chair, while his voice melted into reverent determination, he exclaimed: "Bill, write out the strongest kind of a pledge, and I'll sign it and keep it, and try to save Smith."—Union Signal.

BEFORE THE QUEEN.

By Mrs. M. L. W. Towle

BY MRS. M. L. W. TOWLE.

[When the late Phillips Brooks was in London he was commanded to preach before the queen. Some one asked him if he was afraid to preach before her majesty, when he made the following characteristic reply: "No, I have preached before my mother."]

WHEN asked if he was afraid to preach In the presence of another, And she a queen, he quickly replied, "I have preached before my mother."

Tribute of love from a noble son To the memory of his mother, Whose presence he found an audience More royal than any other.

—The Occident.

A CARNIVOROUS PLANT.

A NATURALIST who has carefully studied the flora and fauna of Central America, found a singular growth in one of the swamps which surround the great Lake of Nicaragua. He was engaged in hunting botanical and entomological specimens in this swamp, which is known as San Sebastian's, when he heard his dog cry out, as if in agony, from a distance. Running to the spot from which the animal's cries came, he found him enveloped in a network of rope wire tissues and fibers, from which he had difficulty in setting the dog free.

When released, Carlo's hairless skin appeared to have been actually sucked or puckered in spots, and he staggered as if from weakness and exhaustion. In cutting the vines, the twigs curled like living, sinuous fingers about the naturalist's hand, and it required no slight force to free the member from their clinging grasp, which left the flesh red and blistered. The gum exuding from the vine was of a grayish dark tinge, remarkably adhesive, and of a disagreeable animal odor, very powerful and nauseating to inhale. Inquiry elicited the information that the natives have a great horror of this vine, which is called the devil's vine.

A story told of its death-dealing powers was that of an Englishman residing in Managua, who, while hunting in the swamp a few years ago, lay down beneath a tree where a large and powerful specimen of this singular plant was growing, and, inadvertently falling asleep, woke to find himself enveloped in its web, and, in spite of every effort made to extricate him, he perished in its deadly embrace. An escaped convict perished in a similar manner. It is almost impossible to handle even small specimens of this plant, for its grasp can only be torn away with loss of skin and even flesh. Its power of suction is contained in a number of infinitesimal mouths, or little suckers, which, ordinarily closed, open for the reception of food. The gum exuded seems to serve the twofold purpose of increasing its tenacity and of overcoming a victim by its sickening odor.

The plant is found only in low, wet places, and usually beneath a large tree, and, while dormant, seems only a network of dry, dead vines, covering the black earth for several feet; but coming into contact with anything, it will instantly begin to twist and twine upward in a horrible, lifelike manner, breaking out with a gumlike substance that we spoke of before, and enwrapping the object with a celerity that is almost incredible. If the substance is animal, the blood is drawn off, and the carcass or refuse then dropped.

A lump of raw meat being thrown it, in the short time of five minutes, the blood will be thoroughly drunk off, and the mass thrown aside. Its voracity is almost beyond belief, it devouring at one time over ten pounds of meat, though it may be deprived of all food for weeks without any apparent loss of vitality.—Irish Times.

BE GENEROUS WHILE ALIVE.

By George William Childs

I HAVE felt that it is a great mistake to put off being generous till after you are dead. In the first place you lose the pleasure of witnessing the good that you may do; and, again, no one can administer your gifts for you as well as you can do it yourself. It is a great pleasure to be brought into personal relations of that kind, and to make people feel that you are not a philanthropist in the abstract, but that you are interested in them personally and care for their welfare. In that way you benefit them not merely in a natural way, but you make them feel that men are really brothers, and that they were made to help one another. That feeling is not only agreeable in itself, but it will be apt to prompt them to carry out the principle themselves. Put yourself into all you do, and let others feel that you are there. Do not only contribute to a charitable fund, but go yourself and help. It may seem an inconvenience at first, but soon you will come to consider it worth any inconvenience.—G. W. Childs.

LOOK OUT FOR THE ROCKS.

A GENTLEMAN crossing the English Channel stood near the helmsman. It was a calm and pleasant evening, and no one dreamed of a possible danger to their good ship, but a sudden flapping of a sail, as if the wind had shifted, caught the ear of the officer on watch, and he sprang at once to the wheel, examining closely the compass.

"You are half a point off the course," he said sharply to the man at the wheel. The deviation was corrected, and the officer returned to his post.

"You must steer very accurately," said the looker-on, "when only half a point is so much thought of."

"Ah! half a point in many places might bring us directly on the rocks," he said.

So it is in life. Half a point from strict truthfulness strands us above the rocks of falsehood. Half a point from perfect honesty and we are steering right for the rocks of crime. And so of all kindred vices. The beginnings are always small. No one climbs to a summit at one bound, but goes up one little step at a time. People think lightly of what they call small sins. These rocks do not look so fearful to them.—Selected.

THE TIME OF MEALS.

DINNER WAS ONCE EATEN AT TEN IN THE MORNING.

It is believed by some that it (the word "dinner") springs from a corruption of the word "dixheures," indicating the time at which, in the old Norman days, this meal was taken. The mere idea of having dinner at the barbarous hour of 10 o'clock in the morning would, in all probability, send a modern chef into a fit, yet it was at this early time that persons of quality, both in this country and France, partook of the meal. Froissart mentions waiting upon the Duke of Lancaster at 5 o'clock in the afternoon, after he had supped, and during the reigns of Francis I. and Louis XII. of France, fashionable people dined from 10:30 o'clock and supped at the latest at 6 o'clock in the evening. And again, from a Northumberland household book, bearing date 1512, we learn that the family rose at 6 o'clock, breakfasted at 7 o'clock, dined at 10 o'clock, supped at 4 o'clock, and shut the gates at 9 P. M.

Speaking generally, though the dinner hour then, as now, was later in this country than in France, Louis XIV. did not dine till 12 o'clock, while his contemporaries, Cromwell and Charles II., took the meal at 1 o'clock. In 1700 the hour was advanced to 2 o'clock, and in 1751 we find that the Duchess of Somerset's dinner time was 3 o'clock. In 1760 Cowper speaks of 4 o'clock as the then fashionable time. After the battle of Waterloo 6 P. M. was the time at which the beau monde took their substantial meal, while at the present day many of the nobility do not dine until 8 or 9 o'clock; so we see through 400 years the dinner hour has gradually moved through twelve hours of the day—from 9 A. M. to 9 P. M. When the dinner hour was so early, often no previous meal was taken.—Chambers' Journal.

A CHLOROFORM SPRING.

It is seldom that the reporter in search of news fails to get an item from our worthy school superintendent, G. H. Stout. Not only is he thoroughly conversant with everything pertaining to educational matters, but he is an expert mineralogist, and spends the greater part of his summer vacation in pursuit of his favorite vocation in the mountains of Butte. In conversation with him to-day he told of a wonderful mineral spring that formerly flowed from the mountain side some miles above the Butte Creek House and near the Plumas County line.

This spring was first called to Mr. Stout's attention some years ago while camping in that vicinity, by an old prospector, who called it the "chloroform spring." The water which flowed from it did not differ in appearance or taste from the water from other springs, except that it was slightly brackish. It was the effect that followed the drinking of its waters that was remarkable. A small cupful would, in course of half an hour, render the drinker totally insensible, and he would remain as one dead for hours. But few white men had ever tried the experiment of drinking from it, but those who had described the effect as not unlike that resulting from a heavy narcotic.

To the Indians this curious spring had been known for generations. They call it "heep sleep" spring, and it is said that more than one poor weary red man has entered the happy hunting grounds through the medium of its waters.

Mr. Stout states that when he saw the spring, in the summer of 1890, there were no less than five carcasses of deer, besides numerous smaller animals, in its immediate neighborhood that had drunk of the water and been overcome and died from its effects. An examination of the geological construction of the immediate section failed to show any mineral that might account for the peculiar power of the water, and, so far as known, no analysis has ever been made.—Oroville (Cal.) Mercury.

DATE OF WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY.

THE question may be asked some of our young readers why some persons claim that Washington was born on the 11th of February, and yet the 22d is celebrated as his birthday.

Washington was born on the 11th of February, Old Style, 1732.

In September, 1752, or twenty years after Washington's birth, the Parliament of Great Britain passed an act adopting the Gregorian Calendar in place of the Julian, which had been formerly used, thus following the example of the Catholic continental nations.

This action changed the 3d of September, 1752, to the 14th. This was in colonial times, and the American possessions of Great Britain followed the rule. Hence the birthday of Washington was carried eleven days ahead in the Gregorian Calendar, or from February 11 to February 22, the former being the Julian, the latter the corresponding Gregorian date.

The Catholic countries of Europe adopted the Gregorian Calendar, in accordance with a brief from Pope Gregory XIII., issued in 1582.—Household.

INDIA. NO 3.

By Stephen N. Haskell

Its Peoples.

BY ELDER S. N. HASKELL.

WHILE China became the great thoroughfare for immigration from Asia through the Bering Straits for people in North and probably South America, Central America, and the islands of the Atlantic Ocean, India became the thoroughfare for the Indian Archipelago, Australia, and the islands of the Pacific. There are many evidences among the natives of these countries and islands which show this, as well as traditions they have brought with them. Neither are facts wanting which show about the time these countries were peopled; but there are no reliable profane historical records as to how or at what particular time this took place. But this missing link, this mysterious problem, is solved, as well as the character of the first settlers, by the inspired penman in Gen. 11:1-9.

It was the impiety of Nimrod, his ambitious, proud, wicked spirit inspired by Satan, to thwart the plan of God to “replenish the earth,” that led him to make brick for stone and take slime for mortar to build “a city and a tower whose top may reach unto heaven,” to make them “a name lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.” And it was because the people were one, having one language, and nothing would restrain them from what they imagined to do, that God said, “Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another’s speech. So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth; and they left off to build the city. Therefore is the name of it called Babel [confusion, or Babylon], because the Lord did there confound the language of all the earth; and from thence did the Lord scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth.” So wicked were these descendants, in order for God to have a pure seed he separated Abram from his kindred and from his father’s house, and all the nations of the earth, and promised to make of him a great nation, and said to him, “I will bless thee, and make thy name great; and thou shalt be a blessing; and I will bless them that bless thee; and curse him that curseth thee, and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed.” Gen. 12:2,3.

But how did these wicked idolaters find their way to India? Had the Himalaya Mountains extended the entire distance on the north of India from the Arabian Sea on the west through Farther India, Anam, Siam, and Burma to the China Sea, they would have formed an impassable barrier for the people to have ever reached India except by sea. But the God that “made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation; that they should seek the Lord,” formed two gateways to people India, around the Persian Gulf through Beloochistan and Afghanistan into India on the west, and also another on the east of this snow-capped range of mountains, the highest in the world.

How many of these different tongues that God originated in the plain of Shinar entered India through nature’s gateway, there is no record, either sacred or profane. But out of the three thousand and sixty-five distinct languages and dialects known to prevail in the world, India, including Burma, Assam, Napal, and Bootan, claims nearly one hundred and fifty of them. One writer says one hundred and forty-three, or over one-twenty-first of the whole. Many of these which now exist have been brought in by other Asiatic and European nations. But it is claimed that over one hundred and twenty, or about one-twenty-fifth of the whole, are found among the natives.

We also find that out of 874,000,000 adherents to the heathen faith, India claims, according to the estimate of 1891, about 285,000,000, over one-third. Also out of the 173,000,000 Mohammedans in the world, India contains over 50,000,000, or more than one-third of them. There are estimated to be 8,000,000 Jews in the world. India has 50,000 of them. India has become the home of the Parsees since they were oppressed and driven from their native land by the Mohammedan power in the eighth century. There are but a few thousand in Persia, but over one hundred thousand in India, principally in Bombay. This people are worthy of much consideration when we consider their history.

In the days of the Jewish captivity the Persians showed great kindness to the people of God. From the royal court went forth a decree to aid the Jews in returning to Jerusalem “with silver and with gold, and with goods, and with beasts, beside the free-will offerings for the house of the Lord which is in Jerusalem.” They recognized the Jews as God’s people, and to aid them was acknowledging the command of the God of heaven, who would have the Jews build him an house at Jerusalem. See Ezra 1. They were never polytheists, but were monotheists, as much so as were the Jews.

When we consider, according to the census of 1891 there are 286,666,960 people in India, of which 187,000,000 are Hindus, 3,500,000 Buddhists, who are a missionary people without Christ, 1,862,634 professed Christians, of which Roman Catholics are 963,059, leaving 899,575 Protestants, while every oriental and Asiatic religion also exists in this country, and all of these packed in an area of about 1,474,606 square miles, or two-fifths the size of the United States, and the gospel is to go to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people, and there is not a portion of this country but that is accessible, and these are broken up into nearly one hundred and fifty divisions by the barrier which God introduced—it presents for the closing work one of the grandest missionary fields in the world.

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