A bitter fountain comes rushing down the mountain side, and drinking thereof, the people of the city are poisoned. Along comes a man who says: “I will build a lime factory just above the city, and pour a stream of lime-water into the bitter fountain.” Jesus’ method was simpler. Go higher up, into the mountain of God, and strike the rock, that sweet waters may gush forth, to flow through the land, carrying health and happiness to all that stand upon the banks of this river of water of life. Jesus reformed institutions by reforming human nature. He was a fundamental thinker. He dealt with causes.—N. D. Hillis.
A bitter fountain comes rushing down the mountain side, and drinking thereof, the people of the city are poisoned. Along comes a man who says: “I will build a lime factory just above the city, and pour a stream of lime-water into the bitter fountain.” Jesus’ method was simpler. Go higher up, into the mountain of God, and strike the rock, that sweet waters may gush forth, to flow through the land, carrying health and happiness to all that stand upon the banks of this river of water of life. Jesus reformed institutions by reforming human nature. He was a fundamental thinker. He dealt with causes.—N. D. Hillis.
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Caution in Revealing Truth—SeeTruth Fatal.
CEMETERY, THE EARTH AS A
Again and again this old poetic fancy of the earth as one great cemetery buried several times deep with dead men, women and children, has been refuted by figures. But great is the error and will prevail, unless the truth be well and steadily upheld. The population of the earth is now about 1,500,000,000. Suppose the human race to have existed for 6,000 years and you have sixty centuries. In each century you may count three generations of mankind, or one hundred and eighty generations in all, each being a generation of 1,500,000,000. Now, lay out a cemetery for one generation. It will be a huge estimate to give to every man, woman, and child a grave five feet by two, or ten square. You want for your graveyard, then, 15,000,000,000 square feet of ground. A square mile contains something less than 28,000,000 square feet. You want, then, a graveyard fifty-five miles long by ten wide for your whole generation. Now multiply this by one hundred and eighty and you have your burial-ground for 6,000 years of mankind. That is, a strip of land, 1,800 miles long by 55 miles wide will be ample. In other words, a cemetery containing 100,000 square miles would be sufficient for the entire human race to lie side by side. The estimate which I have given you of continuous population is obviously enormously large. The estimate of the size of each grave is very large. A strictly correct estimate would reduce the size of the required cemetery more than one-half. But enormous as it is, you could lay out your burial-ground for all men who have lived on earth, so that they could lie side by side in Arizona or in California, or you could lay it out in Texas large enough to accommodate the race of 6,000 years past, and also the race for 6,000 years yet to come, all sleeping in the soil of that one State of this Union. But some one says the race of man has been on the earth 100,000 years. That is a pure imagination and there is not, so far as I know, a fact on which to rest it. But suppose it is true, and suppose the population always what it is now, you have provided for 6,000 years of it. You want nearly seventeen times as large a cemetery for the generations of a thousand centuries. That is, you want 1,700,000 square miles in it. Lay it out whenever you please, 1,700 miles long by 1,000 miles wide. It is but part of the United States. And so enormously large have been the rough estimates thus far used, it is safe to say that if the human race hasbeen in existence 100,000 years, a separate grave could be provided for every individual of the race within a part of the United States east of the Mississippi River.—W. C. Prime, New YorkJournal of Commerce.
Again and again this old poetic fancy of the earth as one great cemetery buried several times deep with dead men, women and children, has been refuted by figures. But great is the error and will prevail, unless the truth be well and steadily upheld. The population of the earth is now about 1,500,000,000. Suppose the human race to have existed for 6,000 years and you have sixty centuries. In each century you may count three generations of mankind, or one hundred and eighty generations in all, each being a generation of 1,500,000,000. Now, lay out a cemetery for one generation. It will be a huge estimate to give to every man, woman, and child a grave five feet by two, or ten square. You want for your graveyard, then, 15,000,000,000 square feet of ground. A square mile contains something less than 28,000,000 square feet. You want, then, a graveyard fifty-five miles long by ten wide for your whole generation. Now multiply this by one hundred and eighty and you have your burial-ground for 6,000 years of mankind. That is, a strip of land, 1,800 miles long by 55 miles wide will be ample. In other words, a cemetery containing 100,000 square miles would be sufficient for the entire human race to lie side by side. The estimate which I have given you of continuous population is obviously enormously large. The estimate of the size of each grave is very large. A strictly correct estimate would reduce the size of the required cemetery more than one-half. But enormous as it is, you could lay out your burial-ground for all men who have lived on earth, so that they could lie side by side in Arizona or in California, or you could lay it out in Texas large enough to accommodate the race of 6,000 years past, and also the race for 6,000 years yet to come, all sleeping in the soil of that one State of this Union. But some one says the race of man has been on the earth 100,000 years. That is a pure imagination and there is not, so far as I know, a fact on which to rest it. But suppose it is true, and suppose the population always what it is now, you have provided for 6,000 years of it. You want nearly seventeen times as large a cemetery for the generations of a thousand centuries. That is, you want 1,700,000 square miles in it. Lay it out whenever you please, 1,700 miles long by 1,000 miles wide. It is but part of the United States. And so enormously large have been the rough estimates thus far used, it is safe to say that if the human race hasbeen in existence 100,000 years, a separate grave could be provided for every individual of the race within a part of the United States east of the Mississippi River.—W. C. Prime, New YorkJournal of Commerce.
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Censure, Misplaced—SeeReflection, Imperfect.
Census-taking, Primitive—SeeCollective Labor.
CENTER OF LIFE
Some men have a Ptolemaic notion of life; their little earth is the center around which all things move. If I have been of that sort, I will remember that the age has outgrown that. It is time to reconstruct one’s life on the Copernican theory, admitting that ours is only a little earth in the great universe, and finding our true solar center in the great moral gravitation of the divine love.—Franklin Noble, D.D., “Sermons in Illustration.”
Some men have a Ptolemaic notion of life; their little earth is the center around which all things move. If I have been of that sort, I will remember that the age has outgrown that. It is time to reconstruct one’s life on the Copernican theory, admitting that ours is only a little earth in the great universe, and finding our true solar center in the great moral gravitation of the divine love.—Franklin Noble, D.D., “Sermons in Illustration.”
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Ceremonial Purging—SeePrejudice, Religious.
CEREMONY, USELESSNESS OF
At Teschen, which town Stephen Schultz, missionary to the Jews, visited several times, he entered the store of a Jewish merchant to buy some articles. He conversed with one of the Jewish clerks on the necessity of an atonement for sin, when the Jew asserted that every man can atone for his own sins. Schultz made him agree to the statement that we are all become altogether as an unclean thing, and then asked him:“How, then, can we pay our debts to God or atone for our sins?” “We must pray, fast, give alms, etc., for altho we dare not now offer any sacrifices, yet if we read over the institution and rites of sacrifices, it will be accepted.” Schultz, without paying any attention to this absurd statement at this time, asked: “How much do I owe for these articles I bought?” “Fifty-seven cents.” “Please write it down upon the counter, lest I forget it.” The Jew did so, and Schultz read ten times: “Fifty-seven cents,” and then walked toward the door as if he would depart. The clerk called him back, saying: “You have not paid me.” “What! Have not yet paid? Have I not read over ten times just what you wrote?” “Yes, but that will not pay your debt.” “And will you then deal so treacherously with God, and think to pay your debts to Him by repeating some prayers?” (Text.)—Missionary Review of the World.
At Teschen, which town Stephen Schultz, missionary to the Jews, visited several times, he entered the store of a Jewish merchant to buy some articles. He conversed with one of the Jewish clerks on the necessity of an atonement for sin, when the Jew asserted that every man can atone for his own sins. Schultz made him agree to the statement that we are all become altogether as an unclean thing, and then asked him:
“How, then, can we pay our debts to God or atone for our sins?” “We must pray, fast, give alms, etc., for altho we dare not now offer any sacrifices, yet if we read over the institution and rites of sacrifices, it will be accepted.” Schultz, without paying any attention to this absurd statement at this time, asked: “How much do I owe for these articles I bought?” “Fifty-seven cents.” “Please write it down upon the counter, lest I forget it.” The Jew did so, and Schultz read ten times: “Fifty-seven cents,” and then walked toward the door as if he would depart. The clerk called him back, saying: “You have not paid me.” “What! Have not yet paid? Have I not read over ten times just what you wrote?” “Yes, but that will not pay your debt.” “And will you then deal so treacherously with God, and think to pay your debts to Him by repeating some prayers?” (Text.)—Missionary Review of the World.
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CHAINS
David had twenty-four columns of marble around his banqueting room, and he chained a bandit and an old enemy to each column, and in the presence of his enemies feasted. Christ enables the soul to chain hate, envy, lying, avarice, gluttony, jealousy, evil-speaking, sloth, and then the soul exclaims, Thou hast spread me a table in the midst of mine enemies! (Text.)—N. D. Hillis.
David had twenty-four columns of marble around his banqueting room, and he chained a bandit and an old enemy to each column, and in the presence of his enemies feasted. Christ enables the soul to chain hate, envy, lying, avarice, gluttony, jealousy, evil-speaking, sloth, and then the soul exclaims, Thou hast spread me a table in the midst of mine enemies! (Text.)—N. D. Hillis.
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CHALLENGE
The outburst of the matchless hymnic genius of Isaac Watts was the response to a challenge. When a youth of eighteen he complained to his father, who was a deacon in an Independent church at Southampton, England, of the poor quality of the hymns sung in the nonconformist services of the time. “Suppose you make a few,” said his father, with more than a suggestion of gentle sarcasm. Taking up the challenge, the poet retired; and soon, out from his seclusion where he had put on his “singing robes,” came the hymn: “Behold the Glories of the Lamb,” which was sung at an early meeting; and so began a career of hymn-writing which continued through the author’s life, and which later aroused to song a whole nest of singing-birds.
The outburst of the matchless hymnic genius of Isaac Watts was the response to a challenge. When a youth of eighteen he complained to his father, who was a deacon in an Independent church at Southampton, England, of the poor quality of the hymns sung in the nonconformist services of the time. “Suppose you make a few,” said his father, with more than a suggestion of gentle sarcasm. Taking up the challenge, the poet retired; and soon, out from his seclusion where he had put on his “singing robes,” came the hymn: “Behold the Glories of the Lamb,” which was sung at an early meeting; and so began a career of hymn-writing which continued through the author’s life, and which later aroused to song a whole nest of singing-birds.
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Chance and Work—SeeToil and Providence.
Chance, Decision by—SeeCoincidence and Superstition.
CHANCE FOR THE BOY
FromCongregational Workis taken the following incident:
Patrick A. Collins, Mayor of Boston for a number of years past, believed that a boy’s word is worth listening to. One time complaint was made to him that a saloon was located too near a certain public school. The politicians and others interested in keeping the place open urged him not to interfere with the resort. The school authorities desired it closed and removed.After the Mayor had listened to arguments from both sides, he said:“Well, I’m going to let the boys of the school tell me what they think of the place. Send me,” he said to the principal of theschool, “half a dozen of your brightest boys. I’ll listen to them.”The next day half a dozen of the boys, ranging from ten to fifteen years of age, called on the Mayor. Each boy gave some reason why he believed the saloon ought to be taken away, until it came to the last one, a youngster of twelve. He looked the Mayor squarely in the eye, and gave as his reason:“My school gives me a chance to be Mayor of Boston some day; the saloon can’t. I think us boys ought to have all the show we can get to be Mayor. That’s all I know about it.”The Mayor threw himself back in his chair and laughed heartily; then, straightening up, he said to the last spokesman:“My boy, you have said more than did all the politicians and the teachers. You shall have the show to be Mayor. That saloon will have to quit business at once.”The boys gave the Mayor a hearty cheer, and marched out of his office. They had conquered, and were consequently happy and triumphant.
Patrick A. Collins, Mayor of Boston for a number of years past, believed that a boy’s word is worth listening to. One time complaint was made to him that a saloon was located too near a certain public school. The politicians and others interested in keeping the place open urged him not to interfere with the resort. The school authorities desired it closed and removed.
After the Mayor had listened to arguments from both sides, he said:
“Well, I’m going to let the boys of the school tell me what they think of the place. Send me,” he said to the principal of theschool, “half a dozen of your brightest boys. I’ll listen to them.”
The next day half a dozen of the boys, ranging from ten to fifteen years of age, called on the Mayor. Each boy gave some reason why he believed the saloon ought to be taken away, until it came to the last one, a youngster of twelve. He looked the Mayor squarely in the eye, and gave as his reason:
“My school gives me a chance to be Mayor of Boston some day; the saloon can’t. I think us boys ought to have all the show we can get to be Mayor. That’s all I know about it.”
The Mayor threw himself back in his chair and laughed heartily; then, straightening up, he said to the last spokesman:
“My boy, you have said more than did all the politicians and the teachers. You shall have the show to be Mayor. That saloon will have to quit business at once.”
The boys gave the Mayor a hearty cheer, and marched out of his office. They had conquered, and were consequently happy and triumphant.
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CHANGE RENOVATES
Police captains find that if they change every man around to a different position about once in so often, it is good for the entire force. The managers of some business offices say that a good big jar is beneficial to almost everybody, and especially for those in danger of believing that they are indispensable. It is a most remarkable boy who is not improved, on occasions, by a genuine “calling down.”—James M. Stifler, “The Fighting Saint.”
Police captains find that if they change every man around to a different position about once in so often, it is good for the entire force. The managers of some business offices say that a good big jar is beneficial to almost everybody, and especially for those in danger of believing that they are indispensable. It is a most remarkable boy who is not improved, on occasions, by a genuine “calling down.”—James M. Stifler, “The Fighting Saint.”
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Change Wrought by Time—SeeTime, Changes of.
Changes in China—SeeChinese Progress.
CHANGES WROUGHT BY CHRIST
The geologist tells us that ages ago vast and horrible creatures filled the air and waters—fierce and hideous monsters swarmed and fought in the primeval slime; but in due time God swept away mastodon, mammoth, megatherium, and filled the world with mild and beautiful forms of life.
The geologist tells us that ages ago vast and horrible creatures filled the air and waters—fierce and hideous monsters swarmed and fought in the primeval slime; but in due time God swept away mastodon, mammoth, megatherium, and filled the world with mild and beautiful forms of life.
To-day we see moral changes wrought far more wonderful than any to which the petrifactions of the geologist witness; we see the power of Christ destroying passions far more terrible than the lizards, serpents, and crocodiles of the antediluvian world, creating graces sweeter and fairer than the choicest forms of perfected nature.—W. L. Watkinson, “The Transfigured Sackcloth.”
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Channels, Choked—SeeLife.
CHARACTER
That a life tells more than a creed is shown in this incident told in theYoung Man:
Mr. John Morley said to a Presbyterian minister who was his guest: “How was it that your Church tolerated Drummond? His views were surely not those of the Free Church.” “No,” said the minister, “but we never took him seriously as a thinker. No one believed that he would shape the theological opinions of the Church. We regarded him rather as a religious influence.” “Ah, yes,” said Mr. Morley, “you are quite right; he wasn’t a thinker.” After some talk on other matters he returned to the subject: “You said a little while ago that Drummond was a religious influence. How did he show that?” “Well,” replied the minister, “for one thing, he cleansed Edinburgh University life for several years.” “Ah,” said Mr. Morley thoughtfully, “that’s better than being a thinker.” It is never easy for the Church to drive out heretics who are not thinkers, but who purify by love the sources of spiritual life in men.
Mr. John Morley said to a Presbyterian minister who was his guest: “How was it that your Church tolerated Drummond? His views were surely not those of the Free Church.” “No,” said the minister, “but we never took him seriously as a thinker. No one believed that he would shape the theological opinions of the Church. We regarded him rather as a religious influence.” “Ah, yes,” said Mr. Morley, “you are quite right; he wasn’t a thinker.” After some talk on other matters he returned to the subject: “You said a little while ago that Drummond was a religious influence. How did he show that?” “Well,” replied the minister, “for one thing, he cleansed Edinburgh University life for several years.” “Ah,” said Mr. Morley thoughtfully, “that’s better than being a thinker.” It is never easy for the Church to drive out heretics who are not thinkers, but who purify by love the sources of spiritual life in men.
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As the light is rayed back from the flower and the wave, from the rock and the roadside, from all objects in nature and all ornaments of art, no matter from what center it emanated first, so the excellence of a character, when serenely and brightly exprest through life, attracts an immediate and instinctive response from all natures around it.—Richard S. Storrs.
As the light is rayed back from the flower and the wave, from the rock and the roadside, from all objects in nature and all ornaments of art, no matter from what center it emanated first, so the excellence of a character, when serenely and brightly exprest through life, attracts an immediate and instinctive response from all natures around it.—Richard S. Storrs.
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SeeAppearance;Trust.
Character and Evil—SeeEvil Germinal.
CHARACTER AND FAME
Fame is what you have taken,Character is what you give;When to this truth you awaken,Then you begin to live.—Bayard Taylor.
Fame is what you have taken,Character is what you give;When to this truth you awaken,Then you begin to live.—Bayard Taylor.
Fame is what you have taken,Character is what you give;When to this truth you awaken,Then you begin to live.—Bayard Taylor.
Fame is what you have taken,
Character is what you give;
When to this truth you awaken,
Then you begin to live.
—Bayard Taylor.
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Character and Manners—SeeDual Character.
CHARACTER-BUILDING
Men might as well try to erect a skyscraper on a bog as to attempt to build a character on anything less enduring than Jesus. Every little while some one makes a new religion with Jesus omitted. These structures dot the plains of nineteen centuries. For a time they appear attractive. But, sooner or later, their tenants discover that there is something wrong with the underpinning. Happy they if they can succeed in moving out before the flimsy fabrics collapse and bury their misguided occupants beneath unseemly ruins.—Joel B. Slocum.
Men might as well try to erect a skyscraper on a bog as to attempt to build a character on anything less enduring than Jesus. Every little while some one makes a new religion with Jesus omitted. These structures dot the plains of nineteen centuries. For a time they appear attractive. But, sooner or later, their tenants discover that there is something wrong with the underpinning. Happy they if they can succeed in moving out before the flimsy fabrics collapse and bury their misguided occupants beneath unseemly ruins.—Joel B. Slocum.
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SeeDaily Character Work.
CHARACTER CONDITIONED BY THE PHYSICAL
A news item from Toledo, Ohio, reads:
Skilled surgeons at St. Vincent’s hospital have transformed Harold Hurley, the bad boy, into Harold Hurley, the good boy.A few days ago, Harold, aged twelve, who was slated for the Lancaster reform school, was taken to the hospital. To-day he was taken home, a changed boy, different in thought, acts, and even appearance.Harold has been a problem to his mother and to the juvenile court officers for some time. Probation Officer Dilgart got a look at Harold recently and discovered a peculiar scar on the boy’s forehead. Inquiry developed that when five years of age Harold stumbled, and striking his head upon a stone, sustained a fracture of the skull. Gradually he became bad; but instead of being sent to Lancaster, he was removed to the hospital, where the pressure of a broken bone on his brain was removed.After the operation the lad’s faculties gathered slowly. Dr. James Donnelly states that the pressure of the piece of bone upon the brain had gradually dulled all the higher sensibilities, and if it had gone on Harold would in time have become an utter degenerate. (Text.)
Skilled surgeons at St. Vincent’s hospital have transformed Harold Hurley, the bad boy, into Harold Hurley, the good boy.
A few days ago, Harold, aged twelve, who was slated for the Lancaster reform school, was taken to the hospital. To-day he was taken home, a changed boy, different in thought, acts, and even appearance.
Harold has been a problem to his mother and to the juvenile court officers for some time. Probation Officer Dilgart got a look at Harold recently and discovered a peculiar scar on the boy’s forehead. Inquiry developed that when five years of age Harold stumbled, and striking his head upon a stone, sustained a fracture of the skull. Gradually he became bad; but instead of being sent to Lancaster, he was removed to the hospital, where the pressure of a broken bone on his brain was removed.
After the operation the lad’s faculties gathered slowly. Dr. James Donnelly states that the pressure of the piece of bone upon the brain had gradually dulled all the higher sensibilities, and if it had gone on Harold would in time have become an utter degenerate. (Text.)
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CHARACTER, CROWN OF
That all men may attain the crown of a Godlike character is the lesson of this poem by Edwin Markham:
When punctual death comes knocking at the door,To lead the soul upon the unknown road,There is one crown, one only, never flungBack to the dust by his fastidious hand.Touched by this crown, a man is king indeed,And carries fate and freedom in his breast;And when his house of clay falls ruining,His soul is out upon the path of stars!This is the one thing stronger than the yearsThat tear the kingdoms down. Imperious time,Pressing a wasteful hand on mortal things,Reveals this young eternity in man.The peasant, he may earn it with the king,And tread an equal palace full of light.Fleet youth may seize this crown: slow-footed ageMay wear its immortality. Behold!Its power can turn bare rafters to a homeHallowed with hopes and hushed with memories;Can turn a field of ruin to a placeWhere pilgrims keep the watches of the night.
When punctual death comes knocking at the door,To lead the soul upon the unknown road,There is one crown, one only, never flungBack to the dust by his fastidious hand.Touched by this crown, a man is king indeed,And carries fate and freedom in his breast;And when his house of clay falls ruining,His soul is out upon the path of stars!This is the one thing stronger than the yearsThat tear the kingdoms down. Imperious time,Pressing a wasteful hand on mortal things,Reveals this young eternity in man.The peasant, he may earn it with the king,And tread an equal palace full of light.Fleet youth may seize this crown: slow-footed ageMay wear its immortality. Behold!Its power can turn bare rafters to a homeHallowed with hopes and hushed with memories;Can turn a field of ruin to a placeWhere pilgrims keep the watches of the night.
When punctual death comes knocking at the door,To lead the soul upon the unknown road,There is one crown, one only, never flungBack to the dust by his fastidious hand.Touched by this crown, a man is king indeed,And carries fate and freedom in his breast;And when his house of clay falls ruining,His soul is out upon the path of stars!This is the one thing stronger than the yearsThat tear the kingdoms down. Imperious time,Pressing a wasteful hand on mortal things,Reveals this young eternity in man.
When punctual death comes knocking at the door,
To lead the soul upon the unknown road,
There is one crown, one only, never flung
Back to the dust by his fastidious hand.
Touched by this crown, a man is king indeed,
And carries fate and freedom in his breast;
And when his house of clay falls ruining,
His soul is out upon the path of stars!
This is the one thing stronger than the years
That tear the kingdoms down. Imperious time,
Pressing a wasteful hand on mortal things,
Reveals this young eternity in man.
The peasant, he may earn it with the king,And tread an equal palace full of light.Fleet youth may seize this crown: slow-footed ageMay wear its immortality. Behold!Its power can turn bare rafters to a homeHallowed with hopes and hushed with memories;Can turn a field of ruin to a placeWhere pilgrims keep the watches of the night.
The peasant, he may earn it with the king,
And tread an equal palace full of light.
Fleet youth may seize this crown: slow-footed age
May wear its immortality. Behold!
Its power can turn bare rafters to a home
Hallowed with hopes and hushed with memories;
Can turn a field of ruin to a place
Where pilgrims keep the watches of the night.
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CHARACTER IMPARTED
Said a young lady to her hostess: “I want to scent my lace handkerchief and I have no sachet with me.” The handkerchief was taken by the lady and placed inside a great rose-jar. “Your handkerchief will be scented in a few hours and the fragrance will never depart from it.” And it never did. The lady explained that the jar had been obtained in China and had been a rose-jar for generations. But when it came into her possession she spent a large sum of money on attar of roses to penetrate the inner glazing of the glass and her object was fulfilled. The fragrance would never depart from it and was communicated to any object placed in it for a few hours. Roman Catholic priests remark that if they can have charge of a child until he is ten years of age he will never depart from the faith. Certainly the pervasive influence of the moral atmosphere is a mighty power in determining character.
Said a young lady to her hostess: “I want to scent my lace handkerchief and I have no sachet with me.” The handkerchief was taken by the lady and placed inside a great rose-jar. “Your handkerchief will be scented in a few hours and the fragrance will never depart from it.” And it never did. The lady explained that the jar had been obtained in China and had been a rose-jar for generations. But when it came into her possession she spent a large sum of money on attar of roses to penetrate the inner glazing of the glass and her object was fulfilled. The fragrance would never depart from it and was communicated to any object placed in it for a few hours. Roman Catholic priests remark that if they can have charge of a child until he is ten years of age he will never depart from the faith. Certainly the pervasive influence of the moral atmosphere is a mighty power in determining character.
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Character Impugned—SeeModesty.
Character in Pictures—SeeGenius, Portraying.
Character Like the Diamond—SeeReflection of God.
CHARACTER MORE THAN CLOTHING
A Scotch nobleman, seeing an old gardener of his establishment with a very ragged coat, made some passing remarks on its condition. “It’s a verra guid coat,” said the honest old man. “I can not agree with you there,” said his lordship. “Ah, it’s just a verra guid coat,” persisted the old man; “it covers a contented spirit, and a body that owes no man anything, and that’s mair than mony a man can say of his coat.” (Text.)
A Scotch nobleman, seeing an old gardener of his establishment with a very ragged coat, made some passing remarks on its condition. “It’s a verra guid coat,” said the honest old man. “I can not agree with you there,” said his lordship. “Ah, it’s just a verra guid coat,” persisted the old man; “it covers a contented spirit, and a body that owes no man anything, and that’s mair than mony a man can say of his coat.” (Text.)
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CHARACTER NOT PURCHASABLE
In an address, made not long before his death, Bishop Potter, of New York, said:
About a year ago there came into my study in New York some one whom I had never seen, a stranger whose name sent in upon his card I did not recognize, and whose errand I could not divine. “Sir,” he said, “I am from such and such a part of the country. In that part of the country a very fierce political campaign is now in progress. One of your clergy is attacking from the pulpit the moral character and moral standards of a gentleman, a candidate there for a very high office, whom I represent.”I said: “I have not got any clergymen out in that part of the world. I have no more jurisdiction there than you have.” He said: “Perhaps not in the sense you mean, but it is one of your men.” “Thank God for that,” said I. “As he came from here he believes in you, and he thinks that sort of talk is his duty.” “What do you want me to do?” I asked. “I want you to stop it,” said he, “and I am authorized by the distinguished gentleman whom I represent to say that if you will stop it he will make it worth your while.”I felt like saying, “I will come high.” I got up and walked to the door. I opened it and stood there. He looked there a moment in some perplexity. I said: “Does it not occur to you, sir, that this interview is at an end.” He went out.I mention that incident as a proof of the statement I have made here. Here was a person in a distant part of the country, a candidate for a very high position, who had not the smallest hesitation in sending an emissary to me with an intimation that if I were prepared to silence a speaker who was saying disagreeable things that money would be put to make it worth my while. I am saying that with that symptomatic you can not ignore the appalling significance of such a condition of things. (Text.)
About a year ago there came into my study in New York some one whom I had never seen, a stranger whose name sent in upon his card I did not recognize, and whose errand I could not divine. “Sir,” he said, “I am from such and such a part of the country. In that part of the country a very fierce political campaign is now in progress. One of your clergy is attacking from the pulpit the moral character and moral standards of a gentleman, a candidate there for a very high office, whom I represent.”
I said: “I have not got any clergymen out in that part of the world. I have no more jurisdiction there than you have.” He said: “Perhaps not in the sense you mean, but it is one of your men.” “Thank God for that,” said I. “As he came from here he believes in you, and he thinks that sort of talk is his duty.” “What do you want me to do?” I asked. “I want you to stop it,” said he, “and I am authorized by the distinguished gentleman whom I represent to say that if you will stop it he will make it worth your while.”
I felt like saying, “I will come high.” I got up and walked to the door. I opened it and stood there. He looked there a moment in some perplexity. I said: “Does it not occur to you, sir, that this interview is at an end.” He went out.
I mention that incident as a proof of the statement I have made here. Here was a person in a distant part of the country, a candidate for a very high position, who had not the smallest hesitation in sending an emissary to me with an intimation that if I were prepared to silence a speaker who was saying disagreeable things that money would be put to make it worth my while. I am saying that with that symptomatic you can not ignore the appalling significance of such a condition of things. (Text.)
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CHARACTER POTS
I had sometimes caught a glimpse of the small scullery-maid at my boarding-house; but one day, slipping to the kitchen for a cup of hot water, I had a queer bit of a chat with her. She was scouring granite pots with a vim and vigor which were bound to bring results, and all the while her face was as shining as her finished work.“Do you like them, Alice?” I asked.“No, I hate them,” she replied emphatically.“What makes you smile so over them, then?” I asked, curiously.“Because they’re ‘character pots,’” the child replied at once.“What?” I inquired, thinking I had misunderstood.“‘Character pots,’ miss. You see, I used to only half clean them. I often cried over them, but Miss Mary told me as how, if I made them real shiny, they’d help to build my character. And ever since then I’ve tried hard, miss; and, oh, it’s been so much easier since I’ve known they were ‘character pots.’”I said a word or two of encouragement, and went on my way, knowing that I had been rubbing up against a real heroine. Everyday life is brimful of disagreeable duties. Why not turn them every one into “character pots?”—East and West.
I had sometimes caught a glimpse of the small scullery-maid at my boarding-house; but one day, slipping to the kitchen for a cup of hot water, I had a queer bit of a chat with her. She was scouring granite pots with a vim and vigor which were bound to bring results, and all the while her face was as shining as her finished work.
“Do you like them, Alice?” I asked.
“No, I hate them,” she replied emphatically.
“What makes you smile so over them, then?” I asked, curiously.
“Because they’re ‘character pots,’” the child replied at once.
“What?” I inquired, thinking I had misunderstood.
“‘Character pots,’ miss. You see, I used to only half clean them. I often cried over them, but Miss Mary told me as how, if I made them real shiny, they’d help to build my character. And ever since then I’ve tried hard, miss; and, oh, it’s been so much easier since I’ve known they were ‘character pots.’”
I said a word or two of encouragement, and went on my way, knowing that I had been rubbing up against a real heroine. Everyday life is brimful of disagreeable duties. Why not turn them every one into “character pots?”—East and West.
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CHARACTER SELF-COMMENDING
It is told of Antipater, an officer in Alexander’s army and a favorite in his court, that one day Philip of Macedon, placed in a position which required special vigilance, made his appearance at a late hour in the morning, with the apology: “I have slept rather late this morning, but then I knew that Antipater was awake.” And at another time, when some person exprest surprize that Antipater did not clothe himself in a purple robe, the badge of nobility and greatness, as the other commanders and ministers of state were accustomed to do, Alexander replied: “Those men wear purple on the outside, but Antipater is purple within.”
It is told of Antipater, an officer in Alexander’s army and a favorite in his court, that one day Philip of Macedon, placed in a position which required special vigilance, made his appearance at a late hour in the morning, with the apology: “I have slept rather late this morning, but then I knew that Antipater was awake.” And at another time, when some person exprest surprize that Antipater did not clothe himself in a purple robe, the badge of nobility and greatness, as the other commanders and ministers of state were accustomed to do, Alexander replied: “Those men wear purple on the outside, but Antipater is purple within.”
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CHARACTER SHOWN IN THE FEET
Distinctions of character are not seen, really, in the feet themselves, but in what the owner does with them. Sometimes it issignificant that their owner does not know what to do with them. He is vulgarly, defiantly self-sufficient and despises ceremony, so when he smokes a cigar he puts his feet on the mantel-piece, out of the way. Or he is a country-bumpkin, painfully self-conscious, so he stands on one foot and then on the other, and shifts them about, perplexed what to do with them, as ill-bred folks, when they sit idle and sociable, are perplexed by possessing a pair of hands. On the contrary, the fop—whose feet are clad without spot or speck, and regardless of expense—knows very well what to do with them; they are part of the exhibition which is his constant care. In general, it is a sign of vanity to thrust forward habitually a neat foot when one is at rest. A conceited man nurses a leg and admires a foot, which he twitches and twirls beneath his delighted eyes—quite unconsciously, and in a different manner from the fop; for the vain man thinks of the effect produced upon other people, but the conceited man is satisfied with himself, without any regard to the ordinary mortals who may chance to be observing him. Very different is the generous mind of the philanthropist, who thinks constantly of the rest of the world, and not of himself. There is nothing cramped about any of his ideas or of his possessions. He forgets such small matters as fashion and details of appearance. Except on state occasions, he considers neatness to be a hindrance; everything about him is large, from his benevolent schemes down to his well-worn shoes. His stand is not alert, but patient, well set on the ground; he is ready and steady; he waits to give what he can, and to do what he can, and while he thinks of weighty matters, personal details are forgotten. He may walk flat-footed in old shoes; insteps and heels are infinitely beneath his consideration, so his foot is not the type that the dancing-master believes to be the one thing necessary for a gentleman; but he has already flattened injustice under his feet, and the horror of the dancing-master shall never reach his ears.—Cassell’s Family Magazine.
Distinctions of character are not seen, really, in the feet themselves, but in what the owner does with them. Sometimes it issignificant that their owner does not know what to do with them. He is vulgarly, defiantly self-sufficient and despises ceremony, so when he smokes a cigar he puts his feet on the mantel-piece, out of the way. Or he is a country-bumpkin, painfully self-conscious, so he stands on one foot and then on the other, and shifts them about, perplexed what to do with them, as ill-bred folks, when they sit idle and sociable, are perplexed by possessing a pair of hands. On the contrary, the fop—whose feet are clad without spot or speck, and regardless of expense—knows very well what to do with them; they are part of the exhibition which is his constant care. In general, it is a sign of vanity to thrust forward habitually a neat foot when one is at rest. A conceited man nurses a leg and admires a foot, which he twitches and twirls beneath his delighted eyes—quite unconsciously, and in a different manner from the fop; for the vain man thinks of the effect produced upon other people, but the conceited man is satisfied with himself, without any regard to the ordinary mortals who may chance to be observing him. Very different is the generous mind of the philanthropist, who thinks constantly of the rest of the world, and not of himself. There is nothing cramped about any of his ideas or of his possessions. He forgets such small matters as fashion and details of appearance. Except on state occasions, he considers neatness to be a hindrance; everything about him is large, from his benevolent schemes down to his well-worn shoes. His stand is not alert, but patient, well set on the ground; he is ready and steady; he waits to give what he can, and to do what he can, and while he thinks of weighty matters, personal details are forgotten. He may walk flat-footed in old shoes; insteps and heels are infinitely beneath his consideration, so his foot is not the type that the dancing-master believes to be the one thing necessary for a gentleman; but he has already flattened injustice under his feet, and the horror of the dancing-master shall never reach his ears.—Cassell’s Family Magazine.
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Character, Springs of—SeeSprings of Character.
CHARACTER, SUPPORT OF
A man once purchased a vacant lot on which stood a gigantic elm-tree.So much did he admire the elm that when he erected his house he built it around the trunk. He did not care to mutilate it or cut it down, but desired that it should constantly exhale its aroma and moisture in his drawing-room. The silence of its growth and steady expansion would be a constant source of interest to himself and to his friends. The opening in the roof was capped to shut out the insect enemies and to shut in the fragrance. When a cyclone swept over the village and the lightning flashed around, the house had shelter and protection in the tree. Other houses might fall, but not that one.We are all builders of character. Whether that character will stand the tests of life or not depends on whether we have built Christ into our character or not. If He is in us a real and living personality, we shall never fail. (Text.)
A man once purchased a vacant lot on which stood a gigantic elm-tree.
So much did he admire the elm that when he erected his house he built it around the trunk. He did not care to mutilate it or cut it down, but desired that it should constantly exhale its aroma and moisture in his drawing-room. The silence of its growth and steady expansion would be a constant source of interest to himself and to his friends. The opening in the roof was capped to shut out the insect enemies and to shut in the fragrance. When a cyclone swept over the village and the lightning flashed around, the house had shelter and protection in the tree. Other houses might fall, but not that one.
We are all builders of character. Whether that character will stand the tests of life or not depends on whether we have built Christ into our character or not. If He is in us a real and living personality, we shall never fail. (Text.)
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CHARACTER, TEST OF
You can not read a man so well during his busy hours as by what he does after supper, or from the closing hour of business to bedtime. You can not gage his character so well by the money he spends for necessaries or the living of his family as by that little overplus of money which is left after the necessary expenses are paid. What does he do with his spare money, that margin left over from business and from living expenses? What he does with that margin will throw a wonderful light upon his character.The largest part of every active life must be devoted to getting a living, attending to one’s affairs, and this is done by most people in a routine sort of a way. You can not tell much about the real man during these hours, because he has a system, his regular daily routine, and he does very much the same thing every day. But the moment he is free, he is quite a different man. Then his real propensities come out. People are not natural until they are free from restraint.Watch the boy and the girl when they are free from their regular duties, and see how they spend their evenings, what society they keep, what companionships they form, what they do. This will be a pretty good test of their character.—Success.
You can not read a man so well during his busy hours as by what he does after supper, or from the closing hour of business to bedtime. You can not gage his character so well by the money he spends for necessaries or the living of his family as by that little overplus of money which is left after the necessary expenses are paid. What does he do with his spare money, that margin left over from business and from living expenses? What he does with that margin will throw a wonderful light upon his character.
The largest part of every active life must be devoted to getting a living, attending to one’s affairs, and this is done by most people in a routine sort of a way. You can not tell much about the real man during these hours, because he has a system, his regular daily routine, and he does very much the same thing every day. But the moment he is free, he is quite a different man. Then his real propensities come out. People are not natural until they are free from restraint.
Watch the boy and the girl when they are free from their regular duties, and see how they spend their evenings, what society they keep, what companionships they form, what they do. This will be a pretty good test of their character.—Success.
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Character that Shines—SeeLuminosity.
Character Unaffected by Death—SeeDeath Does Not Change Character.
CHARACTER, UNSEEN PLACES IN
The editor of theCentral Presbyterianmoralizes on flowers from a back yard as follows:
A lovely flower came to us last week from the back yard of a home in the city. It was a white hyacinth, large and full, white as the driven snow, and sweetly perfumed. And it came not from the florist’s hothouse, nor from the fine plot at the front of a good home, but from the little yard at the rear. What a thing of beauty and fragrance to spring up in this homely place, common, soiled and trampled! It is a happy thought, not uncommon nowadays, to make the back yard, not often seen by other’s eyes, a place of beauty and sweetness, turning the common and the obscure into a source of pleasure and all that is wholesome and inspiring.One may do well to look after the back yard of his own life. He has sometimes a front that all men see and admire. Toward his friends and neighbors he is careful to make a fair exhibition of good morals and courteous manner. He maintains a front with which no fault can be found. But can the rear, the small and commonplace, the every-day and out-of-sight part of character and conduct, bear the same careful inspection? Are there any fair and fragrant flowers that spring up where no man ever looks, and only God’s eye can see?
A lovely flower came to us last week from the back yard of a home in the city. It was a white hyacinth, large and full, white as the driven snow, and sweetly perfumed. And it came not from the florist’s hothouse, nor from the fine plot at the front of a good home, but from the little yard at the rear. What a thing of beauty and fragrance to spring up in this homely place, common, soiled and trampled! It is a happy thought, not uncommon nowadays, to make the back yard, not often seen by other’s eyes, a place of beauty and sweetness, turning the common and the obscure into a source of pleasure and all that is wholesome and inspiring.
One may do well to look after the back yard of his own life. He has sometimes a front that all men see and admire. Toward his friends and neighbors he is careful to make a fair exhibition of good morals and courteous manner. He maintains a front with which no fault can be found. But can the rear, the small and commonplace, the every-day and out-of-sight part of character and conduct, bear the same careful inspection? Are there any fair and fragrant flowers that spring up where no man ever looks, and only God’s eye can see?
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Character Wrought by Hardship—SeeSaved in Service.
CHARACTERISTIC TRAITS
A look, a touch, a word is enough, not infrequently, to betray the man back of it, the unconscious being the characteristic.
Mendelssohn once revealed his masterhand as a musician to the organ-keeper in Strasburg Cathedral by the way he made the instrument speak, just as Giotto, as an artist, did to a stranger on one occasion by drawing a perfect circle at a stroke.
Mendelssohn once revealed his masterhand as a musician to the organ-keeper in Strasburg Cathedral by the way he made the instrument speak, just as Giotto, as an artist, did to a stranger on one occasion by drawing a perfect circle at a stroke.
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Characteristics Revealing Authorship—SeeRecognition by One’s Work.
Characterization, Improper—SeeBadness in Boys.
CHARITY
Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life,And, even when you find them,It’s wise and kind to be somewhat blind,And search for the light behind them.
Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life,And, even when you find them,It’s wise and kind to be somewhat blind,And search for the light behind them.
Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life,And, even when you find them,It’s wise and kind to be somewhat blind,And search for the light behind them.
Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life,
And, even when you find them,
It’s wise and kind to be somewhat blind,
And search for the light behind them.
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SeeOther Side, The.
Charity, Inadequate—SeeInjustice.
CHARITY, LOGIC OF
Put a Chinaman into your hospital and he will get treated. You may lie awake at night drawing up reasons for doing something different with this disgusting Chinaman—who somehow is in the world and is thrown into your care, your hospital, your thought—but the machinery of your own being is so constructed that if you take any other course with him than that which you take with your own people, your institution will instantly lose its meaning; you would not have the face to beg money for its continuance in the following year. The logic of this, which, if you like, is the logic of self-protection under the illusion of self-sacrifice, is the logic which is at the bottom of all human progress. The utility of hospitals is not to cure the sick. It is to teach mercy. The veneration for hospitals is not because they cure the sick, it is because they stand for love, and responsibility.—John Jay Chapman.
Put a Chinaman into your hospital and he will get treated. You may lie awake at night drawing up reasons for doing something different with this disgusting Chinaman—who somehow is in the world and is thrown into your care, your hospital, your thought—but the machinery of your own being is so constructed that if you take any other course with him than that which you take with your own people, your institution will instantly lose its meaning; you would not have the face to beg money for its continuance in the following year. The logic of this, which, if you like, is the logic of self-protection under the illusion of self-sacrifice, is the logic which is at the bottom of all human progress. The utility of hospitals is not to cure the sick. It is to teach mercy. The veneration for hospitals is not because they cure the sick, it is because they stand for love, and responsibility.—John Jay Chapman.
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CHARITY RESPECTED
It is reported that during the late disturbances in southern China consequent upon the French expedition to Tonquin, a small Wesleyan mission station at Fatshan was at the mercy of a riotous mob. The chapel was wrecked. The hospital for days was menaced and was hourly expected to fall, but here, for the first time, the rioters appeared to hesitate. Some of the sick were removed before their eyes; others, they knew, could not leave the building. They constantly threatened assault, but the blow never came, and amid their angry menaces the doctor was allowed to pass freely to and from the hospital. A finer touch than that which compelled a kindred feeling between this rabble and its foreign benefactors does not exist in nature. The Chinese mob probably did not include many acute controversialists in theology, but it did, as a whole, recognizethe presence of that charity which is rightly regarded as the essence of religion.—LondonLancet.
It is reported that during the late disturbances in southern China consequent upon the French expedition to Tonquin, a small Wesleyan mission station at Fatshan was at the mercy of a riotous mob. The chapel was wrecked. The hospital for days was menaced and was hourly expected to fall, but here, for the first time, the rioters appeared to hesitate. Some of the sick were removed before their eyes; others, they knew, could not leave the building. They constantly threatened assault, but the blow never came, and amid their angry menaces the doctor was allowed to pass freely to and from the hospital. A finer touch than that which compelled a kindred feeling between this rabble and its foreign benefactors does not exist in nature. The Chinese mob probably did not include many acute controversialists in theology, but it did, as a whole, recognizethe presence of that charity which is rightly regarded as the essence of religion.—LondonLancet.
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Charm, A, Surrendered—SeeReservation.
Chastening—SeeAffliction, Uses of.
Chastisement—SeeDiscipline.
CHEER, GOOD
Eben E. Rexford writes this cheering philosophy:
Tell me, what’s the use of fretting when we think that things go wrong?It never makes them better; but I’ve heard it said a songMakes the heavy load seem lighter, and will cheer the troubled heartTill it quite forgets its worries, and its vexing cares depart—As the wind that sweeps the marshes where the fog hangs, chill and gray,Moves the mists that mar the morning till it blows them all away.So, whenever storm-clouds gather till they hide the sun from sight,And it’s darker in the morning than it ought to be at night,Then let’s sing about the sunshine that is on the other sideOf the darkest cloud, my comrade. Let the song ring far and wideOn the listening ear of others who climb the hill with you.Till the rifted clouds are scattered, and the gray old world seems new.
Tell me, what’s the use of fretting when we think that things go wrong?It never makes them better; but I’ve heard it said a songMakes the heavy load seem lighter, and will cheer the troubled heartTill it quite forgets its worries, and its vexing cares depart—As the wind that sweeps the marshes where the fog hangs, chill and gray,Moves the mists that mar the morning till it blows them all away.So, whenever storm-clouds gather till they hide the sun from sight,And it’s darker in the morning than it ought to be at night,Then let’s sing about the sunshine that is on the other sideOf the darkest cloud, my comrade. Let the song ring far and wideOn the listening ear of others who climb the hill with you.Till the rifted clouds are scattered, and the gray old world seems new.
Tell me, what’s the use of fretting when we think that things go wrong?It never makes them better; but I’ve heard it said a songMakes the heavy load seem lighter, and will cheer the troubled heartTill it quite forgets its worries, and its vexing cares depart—As the wind that sweeps the marshes where the fog hangs, chill and gray,Moves the mists that mar the morning till it blows them all away.
Tell me, what’s the use of fretting when we think that things go wrong?
It never makes them better; but I’ve heard it said a song
Makes the heavy load seem lighter, and will cheer the troubled heart
Till it quite forgets its worries, and its vexing cares depart—
As the wind that sweeps the marshes where the fog hangs, chill and gray,
Moves the mists that mar the morning till it blows them all away.
So, whenever storm-clouds gather till they hide the sun from sight,And it’s darker in the morning than it ought to be at night,Then let’s sing about the sunshine that is on the other sideOf the darkest cloud, my comrade. Let the song ring far and wideOn the listening ear of others who climb the hill with you.Till the rifted clouds are scattered, and the gray old world seems new.
So, whenever storm-clouds gather till they hide the sun from sight,
And it’s darker in the morning than it ought to be at night,
Then let’s sing about the sunshine that is on the other side
Of the darkest cloud, my comrade. Let the song ring far and wide
On the listening ear of others who climb the hill with you.
Till the rifted clouds are scattered, and the gray old world seems new.
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CHEER, SIGNALS OF
Sailors who navigate the seas on the South Atlantic coast are always glad when they near the harbor of Savannah, for that means that they will pass within saluting distance of the “little lighthouse girl.” This is the officially accepted title of Florence Martus, who has for the last eleven years waved a friendly signal to every craft passing between the city and the sea. It is a hobby of this young girl to greet the ships that go and wish them a safe return, and greet the ships that come and congratulate them on their voyage.The Martus dwelling is the only habitation on Elba Island. There is no landing wharf, and visitors arrive on an average once a year. The barks, the steamers, and the various other craft never get near enough for an exchange of greetings other than that most expressive form of good will, the waving of a handkerchief by day and of a lantern by night. And as the girl sends out her welcome, the seamen who know all about her, and who would resent the elimination of the ceremony which she so popularized, send back an answering salute, three “toots” of the steam-whistle. Then Miss Martus is as happy as a belle at a debutante party.It is her desire that no vessel shall pass the lighthouse without receiving a salute. She never overlooks a sail in the daytime, and her handkerchief is ever ready for its service of cordiality. She says it is her ambition to signal every ship that touches at Savannah. She was asked her reason for signalling the passing sea throng, and she answered that it was to cheer the crew.
Sailors who navigate the seas on the South Atlantic coast are always glad when they near the harbor of Savannah, for that means that they will pass within saluting distance of the “little lighthouse girl.” This is the officially accepted title of Florence Martus, who has for the last eleven years waved a friendly signal to every craft passing between the city and the sea. It is a hobby of this young girl to greet the ships that go and wish them a safe return, and greet the ships that come and congratulate them on their voyage.
The Martus dwelling is the only habitation on Elba Island. There is no landing wharf, and visitors arrive on an average once a year. The barks, the steamers, and the various other craft never get near enough for an exchange of greetings other than that most expressive form of good will, the waving of a handkerchief by day and of a lantern by night. And as the girl sends out her welcome, the seamen who know all about her, and who would resent the elimination of the ceremony which she so popularized, send back an answering salute, three “toots” of the steam-whistle. Then Miss Martus is as happy as a belle at a debutante party.
It is her desire that no vessel shall pass the lighthouse without receiving a salute. She never overlooks a sail in the daytime, and her handkerchief is ever ready for its service of cordiality. She says it is her ambition to signal every ship that touches at Savannah. She was asked her reason for signalling the passing sea throng, and she answered that it was to cheer the crew.
This beautiful and unselfish ministry illustrates how a noble heart invents ways to scatter sunshine. The world passes us like ships on the sea. How much interest do we take in others? How far a kind word, or smile, or handshake goes to help the friendless and hopeless. It is not the great acts but the little deeds of kindness that make human beings happy. (Text.)
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“That boy,” said the foreman in the machine-shop, “will make a good workman. He always whistles at his work.” (Text.)
“That boy,” said the foreman in the machine-shop, “will make a good workman. He always whistles at his work.” (Text.)
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Cherubim—SeeLove Rather than Knowledge.
Child, A, as Reconciler—SeeGood Will.
Child, A Little—SeeSoul, Your.
CHILD, FAITH OF A
The prediction that “a little child shall lead them” applies in this poem to a skeptic rather than to ravenous beasts.
A little child walked by my side,I had lost faith in God and man,He prattled of his joys and hopesAs only little children can.I did not try to blast his hopes,I did not tell him of my pain,And, somehow, when our walk was done,My shattered faith was whole again.—Rena Hurd Ingham,Congregationalist.(Text.)
A little child walked by my side,I had lost faith in God and man,He prattled of his joys and hopesAs only little children can.I did not try to blast his hopes,I did not tell him of my pain,And, somehow, when our walk was done,My shattered faith was whole again.—Rena Hurd Ingham,Congregationalist.(Text.)
A little child walked by my side,I had lost faith in God and man,He prattled of his joys and hopesAs only little children can.I did not try to blast his hopes,I did not tell him of my pain,And, somehow, when our walk was done,My shattered faith was whole again.—Rena Hurd Ingham,Congregationalist.(Text.)
A little child walked by my side,
I had lost faith in God and man,
He prattled of his joys and hopes
As only little children can.
I did not try to blast his hopes,
I did not tell him of my pain,
And, somehow, when our walk was done,
My shattered faith was whole again.
—Rena Hurd Ingham,Congregationalist.(Text.)
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Child, Influence of a—SeePardon for a Child’s Sake.
CHILD LABOR
The National Child Labor Committee was organized in 1904. Up to that time very little had been done toward preventing the employment of children in many industries, the worst of these being the work of coal-breaking in mines and long days of labor in textile factories. A summary of the work accomplished by the committee in six years will show the gains that are being made in saving children from the too heavy burdens of labor at a tender age, under which their growth is often stunted, and their education interrupted or prevented.Eight-hour day for children under 16 established in 10 States and District of Columbia (in many or all industries).Hours of employment for children reduced in 13 more States.Child labor laws passed for the first time in 6 States.Age limit of 14 years applied to factories and stores: In 1904, 12 States; in 1910, 19 States.Also from factories and stores the limit in 1910 extends to offices, laundries, hotels, bowling-alleys, etc.Age limit of 16 for work in coal-mines; 1904 none. In 1910 6 States fixt limit of 16 years; 18 States at 14, and 8 States at 12.Employment forbidden during school hours: 1904 in 14 States; 1910 in 23 States.Night-work prohibited: 1904 in 13 States, the age limit in some being as low as 12 years. 1910: 24 States with 16-year limit, 7 States with 14-year limit, 2 States with 12-year limit, 1 State (in certain industries) with 18-year limit. New York prohibited night work in messenger service 10P.M.to 5A.M.to all minors.Compulsory education: Laws for the first time in 6 States. Age limit for attendance raised in 6 (more) States.Child-labor laws now (1910) exist in every State except Nevada. They are being steadily improved.
The National Child Labor Committee was organized in 1904. Up to that time very little had been done toward preventing the employment of children in many industries, the worst of these being the work of coal-breaking in mines and long days of labor in textile factories. A summary of the work accomplished by the committee in six years will show the gains that are being made in saving children from the too heavy burdens of labor at a tender age, under which their growth is often stunted, and their education interrupted or prevented.
Eight-hour day for children under 16 established in 10 States and District of Columbia (in many or all industries).
Hours of employment for children reduced in 13 more States.
Child labor laws passed for the first time in 6 States.
Age limit of 14 years applied to factories and stores: In 1904, 12 States; in 1910, 19 States.
Also from factories and stores the limit in 1910 extends to offices, laundries, hotels, bowling-alleys, etc.
Age limit of 16 for work in coal-mines; 1904 none. In 1910 6 States fixt limit of 16 years; 18 States at 14, and 8 States at 12.
Employment forbidden during school hours: 1904 in 14 States; 1910 in 23 States.
Night-work prohibited: 1904 in 13 States, the age limit in some being as low as 12 years. 1910: 24 States with 16-year limit, 7 States with 14-year limit, 2 States with 12-year limit, 1 State (in certain industries) with 18-year limit. New York prohibited night work in messenger service 10P.M.to 5A.M.to all minors.
Compulsory education: Laws for the first time in 6 States. Age limit for attendance raised in 6 (more) States.
Child-labor laws now (1910) exist in every State except Nevada. They are being steadily improved.
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SeeMissionaries in the Making.
CHILD, LEADING OF A
A young mother who had lost her firstborn, sat fondling its icy hands, and amid her tears said, “If ever I get to heaven, it will be these little fingers that will pull me there.” (Text.)
A young mother who had lost her firstborn, sat fondling its icy hands, and amid her tears said, “If ever I get to heaven, it will be these little fingers that will pull me there.” (Text.)
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Child Nature—SeeAnimism.
CHILD RELIGION