Several thousand mine workers of the anthracite region, chiefly foreigners, refused to enter the mines to-day because they had a superstitious fear that the earth would be destroyed when enveloped in the tail of Halley’s comet to-night, May 18, 1910.Efforts of the English-speaking miners, [at Wilkesbarre, Penn.] to get them to go to work were futile, and they said that if the world came to an end they wanted to be on the surface where they could see, instead of in the depths of the mines. A number of them spent most of the day in prayer, and many of them were in a condition of great fear and nervousness. A number of collieries were so short handed that they had to shut down for the day.
Several thousand mine workers of the anthracite region, chiefly foreigners, refused to enter the mines to-day because they had a superstitious fear that the earth would be destroyed when enveloped in the tail of Halley’s comet to-night, May 18, 1910.
Efforts of the English-speaking miners, [at Wilkesbarre, Penn.] to get them to go to work were futile, and they said that if the world came to an end they wanted to be on the surface where they could see, instead of in the depths of the mines. A number of them spent most of the day in prayer, and many of them were in a condition of great fear and nervousness. A number of collieries were so short handed that they had to shut down for the day.
(1079)
FEAR AS A MOTIVE
The late George T. Angell, in “Our Dumb Animals,” gives this incident, showing that fear of unseen authority, is a forcible motive, even with would-be transgressors:
The incident occurred on the rise of land near Park Street Church (Boston). A horse, evidently laboring under the impression that he was overloaded, stopt and refused to go any farther, and a crowd gathered. Just then one voice called out from the crowd:“Why don’t you whip him?”“Whip him,” said the driver—“whip him! How do I know that there ain’t an agent of that darned old Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals standin’ right here in this crowd?”We have never considered it good policy to send out any of our agents in uniform, and so any respectable citizen who seems to be interested in the protection of horses is liable to be suspected of being one of our agents. (Text.)
The incident occurred on the rise of land near Park Street Church (Boston). A horse, evidently laboring under the impression that he was overloaded, stopt and refused to go any farther, and a crowd gathered. Just then one voice called out from the crowd:
“Why don’t you whip him?”
“Whip him,” said the driver—“whip him! How do I know that there ain’t an agent of that darned old Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals standin’ right here in this crowd?”
We have never considered it good policy to send out any of our agents in uniform, and so any respectable citizen who seems to be interested in the protection of horses is liable to be suspected of being one of our agents. (Text.)
(1080)
FEAR OF GOD
Of all the memorials found in Westminster Abbey, there is not one that gives a nobler thought than the life lesson from the monument to Lord Lawrence. Simply his nameand date of his death, and these words: “He feared man so little because he feared God so much.” Here is one great secret of victory. The prayer of the Rugby boy, John Laing Bickersteth, found locked up in his desk after his death, was: “Oh God, give me courage that I may fear none but thee.” (Text.)
Of all the memorials found in Westminster Abbey, there is not one that gives a nobler thought than the life lesson from the monument to Lord Lawrence. Simply his nameand date of his death, and these words: “He feared man so little because he feared God so much.” Here is one great secret of victory. The prayer of the Rugby boy, John Laing Bickersteth, found locked up in his desk after his death, was: “Oh God, give me courage that I may fear none but thee.” (Text.)
(1081)
FEAR OF MAN
Ex-President Roosevelt is usually pictured as proof against fear, but the New YorkTimestells of an occasion when he admits that he was badly frightened.It was on the evening of his first diplomatic reception as President, and the long and brilliant line headed by ambassadors, foreign ministers and attaches, and distinguished army and naval officers in gorgeous uniforms, was passing slowly before him. In this procession was a lady who knew the President quite well, and who confidently expected a hearty greeting. To her surprize, Mr. Roosevelt merely inclined his head over her hand, and bowed her on with the throng.An hour later she met the President in the reception-room, and he spoke to her in the friendliest way.“Why didn’t you come in time for the reception?” he asked.“I did,” she replied, “and you did not even recognize me!”“Impossible!” exclaimed the President, “but,” and he set his teeth together hard and whispered, “to tell you the truth, Mrs. ——, I was so fearful I wouldn’t do the right thing I could not think of anybody except myself!”
Ex-President Roosevelt is usually pictured as proof against fear, but the New YorkTimestells of an occasion when he admits that he was badly frightened.
It was on the evening of his first diplomatic reception as President, and the long and brilliant line headed by ambassadors, foreign ministers and attaches, and distinguished army and naval officers in gorgeous uniforms, was passing slowly before him. In this procession was a lady who knew the President quite well, and who confidently expected a hearty greeting. To her surprize, Mr. Roosevelt merely inclined his head over her hand, and bowed her on with the throng.
An hour later she met the President in the reception-room, and he spoke to her in the friendliest way.
“Why didn’t you come in time for the reception?” he asked.
“I did,” she replied, “and you did not even recognize me!”
“Impossible!” exclaimed the President, “but,” and he set his teeth together hard and whispered, “to tell you the truth, Mrs. ——, I was so fearful I wouldn’t do the right thing I could not think of anybody except myself!”
(1082)
Kindness, justice and a little heavenly wisdom would guard a ruler far more effectually than the precautions mentioned below:
The Sultan is chiefly afraid of the darkness, and it costs him $900 per night to have his bedroom guarded. This sum is split up between the eight generals entrusted with the work and their supernumeraries. Two generals take the long watch every night outside his door, and receive $200 apiece for it; beneath them is a colonel who is paid $150 a night, and guards receiving smaller amounts. All they have to do to earn their princely salaries is to tramp up and down the corridor with their eyes on the beautiful satin-wood door inlaid with mother-of-pearl which took an expert two years to inlay. (Text.)—Tid-Bits.
The Sultan is chiefly afraid of the darkness, and it costs him $900 per night to have his bedroom guarded. This sum is split up between the eight generals entrusted with the work and their supernumeraries. Two generals take the long watch every night outside his door, and receive $200 apiece for it; beneath them is a colonel who is paid $150 a night, and guards receiving smaller amounts. All they have to do to earn their princely salaries is to tramp up and down the corridor with their eyes on the beautiful satin-wood door inlaid with mother-of-pearl which took an expert two years to inlay. (Text.)—Tid-Bits.
(1083)
Fear, Paralyzing—SeeHopeless Fear.
FEAR, RELIGIOUS
The missing qualities in Wesley’s religious state at this time [at Oxford] are obvious, It utterly lacked the element of joy. Religion is meant to have for the spiritual landscape the office of sunshine, but in Wesley’s spiritual sky burned no divine light, whether of certainty or of hope. He imagined he could distil the rich wine of spiritual gladness out of mechanical religious exercises; but he found himself, to his own distress, and in his own words, “dull, flat, and unaffected in the use of the most solemn ordinances.” Fear, too, like a shadow, haunted his mind: fear that he was not accepted before God; fear that he might lose what grace he had; fear both of life and of death. He dare not grant himself, he declared, the liberty that others enjoyed. His brother Samuel, whose letters are always rich in the salt of common sense, had remonstrated with his younger brother for the austerities he practised and the rigors of alarmed self-interrogation under which he lived. John Wesley defends himself by the plea—in which there is an unconscious pathos—that he lacks his brother’s strength and dare take no risks.“Mirth, I grant,” he says, “is very fit for you. But does it follow that it is fit for me? If you are to rejoice evermore because you have put your enemies to flight, am I to do the same while they continually assault me? You are very glad because you have passed from death to life. Well! but let him be afraid who knows not whether he is to live or die. Whether this be my condition or no, who can tell better than myself?”—W. H. Fitchett, “Wesley and His Century.”
The missing qualities in Wesley’s religious state at this time [at Oxford] are obvious, It utterly lacked the element of joy. Religion is meant to have for the spiritual landscape the office of sunshine, but in Wesley’s spiritual sky burned no divine light, whether of certainty or of hope. He imagined he could distil the rich wine of spiritual gladness out of mechanical religious exercises; but he found himself, to his own distress, and in his own words, “dull, flat, and unaffected in the use of the most solemn ordinances.” Fear, too, like a shadow, haunted his mind: fear that he was not accepted before God; fear that he might lose what grace he had; fear both of life and of death. He dare not grant himself, he declared, the liberty that others enjoyed. His brother Samuel, whose letters are always rich in the salt of common sense, had remonstrated with his younger brother for the austerities he practised and the rigors of alarmed self-interrogation under which he lived. John Wesley defends himself by the plea—in which there is an unconscious pathos—that he lacks his brother’s strength and dare take no risks.
“Mirth, I grant,” he says, “is very fit for you. But does it follow that it is fit for me? If you are to rejoice evermore because you have put your enemies to flight, am I to do the same while they continually assault me? You are very glad because you have passed from death to life. Well! but let him be afraid who knows not whether he is to live or die. Whether this be my condition or no, who can tell better than myself?”—W. H. Fitchett, “Wesley and His Century.”
(1084)
Fearlessness of Death—SeeMartyr Spirit.
Feast of the Soul—SeeChains.
Fecundity—SeeDestruction Necessary.
FECUNDITY OF LIFE
An English naturalist has figured out that a single-stem mother of the common aphids, or “green-fly” of the rose, would give origin, at its regular rate of multiplication and provided each individual born lived out its natural life, which is only a few days at best, to over thirty-three quintrillions of rose aphids in a single season, equal in weight tomore than a billion and a half of men. Of course such a thing never happens, because so many of the young aphids get eaten by lady-bird beetles and flower-fly larvæ and other enemies before they come to be old enough to produce young.—Vernon L. Kellogg, “Insect Stories.”
An English naturalist has figured out that a single-stem mother of the common aphids, or “green-fly” of the rose, would give origin, at its regular rate of multiplication and provided each individual born lived out its natural life, which is only a few days at best, to over thirty-three quintrillions of rose aphids in a single season, equal in weight tomore than a billion and a half of men. Of course such a thing never happens, because so many of the young aphids get eaten by lady-bird beetles and flower-fly larvæ and other enemies before they come to be old enough to produce young.—Vernon L. Kellogg, “Insect Stories.”
(1085)
FEEDING TOO MUCH
The apostle James puts the emphasis of religion on doing, not hearing alone. The one definition of religion we have in Scripture, and that given by him, is suggestive of the divine order—the best way to keep oneself unspotted from the world is to be occupied in ministry to others. A good deacon once complained to Thomas Dixon that his sermons placed too much emphasis on doing and reminded him of Jesus’ command to Peter, “Feed my sheep.” Mr. Dixon replied: “That is what is the matter with you; I have fed you until you are so fat you can not walk.”—Charles Luther Kloss, “Proceedings of The Religious Education Association,” 1904.
The apostle James puts the emphasis of religion on doing, not hearing alone. The one definition of religion we have in Scripture, and that given by him, is suggestive of the divine order—the best way to keep oneself unspotted from the world is to be occupied in ministry to others. A good deacon once complained to Thomas Dixon that his sermons placed too much emphasis on doing and reminded him of Jesus’ command to Peter, “Feed my sheep.” Mr. Dixon replied: “That is what is the matter with you; I have fed you until you are so fat you can not walk.”—Charles Luther Kloss, “Proceedings of The Religious Education Association,” 1904.
(1086)
FEELING A FOUNTAIN
Feeling is a fountain that gushes life. Emotions in the soul are like songs, pouring forth from the birds in the thicket. Orange groves and peach orchards exhale perfume, and feeling is the soul’s fragrance, rising toward God and its fellows. The seas send up their whitest mists, and the soul ought to send up its emotions in whitest clouds of incense toward the throne of God and toward man’s soul.—N. D. Hillis.
Feeling is a fountain that gushes life. Emotions in the soul are like songs, pouring forth from the birds in the thicket. Orange groves and peach orchards exhale perfume, and feeling is the soul’s fragrance, rising toward God and its fellows. The seas send up their whitest mists, and the soul ought to send up its emotions in whitest clouds of incense toward the throne of God and toward man’s soul.—N. D. Hillis.
(1087)
FEELING AND PRINCIPLE
You know the difference between feeling and principle. Yonder is an old sailboat out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and when the wind blows, she travels ten miles an hour, but let the wind lull, and she will lie there two weeks, within a hundred yards of where the wind left her. She doesn’t go anywhere. That is feeling. When the wind blows, off she goes.What is principle? Yonder is a grand old ocean steamer, and when the wind blows she spreads her sails and works her steam, and on she goes; and when the wind lulls, the engineer pulls his throttle wider open, and she goes at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, whether the wind blows or not. And that is the difference between principle and feeling.—“Famous Stories of Sam P. Jones.”
You know the difference between feeling and principle. Yonder is an old sailboat out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and when the wind blows, she travels ten miles an hour, but let the wind lull, and she will lie there two weeks, within a hundred yards of where the wind left her. She doesn’t go anywhere. That is feeling. When the wind blows, off she goes.
What is principle? Yonder is a grand old ocean steamer, and when the wind blows she spreads her sails and works her steam, and on she goes; and when the wind lulls, the engineer pulls his throttle wider open, and she goes at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, whether the wind blows or not. And that is the difference between principle and feeling.—“Famous Stories of Sam P. Jones.”
(1088)
Feeling the Christian Spirit—SeeConsistency.
FEELINGS RESERVED
Among Scotch qualities, the deepest rooted, apart from the fear of God, is sentiment. And yet we do not receive credit for it because we have not sentimentalism, which is the caricature and ghost of sentiment. The sentiment of the Scotch is of the heart and not of the lips. If I saw a couple of Scotchmen kissing each other good-by, I wouldn’t lend five shillings to either of them. It is not an uncommon thing to see such an exhibition among Italians. I do not blame them. They are as God made them and so they must be. People doubt whether we have any sentiment at all. Some think we are hard-hearted and cold-blooded. Our manner is less than genial and not effusive. Our misfortune is not to be able to express our feelings. This inability is allied to our strength; strong people conceal their feelings.—John Watson.
Among Scotch qualities, the deepest rooted, apart from the fear of God, is sentiment. And yet we do not receive credit for it because we have not sentimentalism, which is the caricature and ghost of sentiment. The sentiment of the Scotch is of the heart and not of the lips. If I saw a couple of Scotchmen kissing each other good-by, I wouldn’t lend five shillings to either of them. It is not an uncommon thing to see such an exhibition among Italians. I do not blame them. They are as God made them and so they must be. People doubt whether we have any sentiment at all. Some think we are hard-hearted and cold-blooded. Our manner is less than genial and not effusive. Our misfortune is not to be able to express our feelings. This inability is allied to our strength; strong people conceal their feelings.—John Watson.
(1089)
Fees—SeeRidicule, Apt.
Feet Showing Character—SeeCharacter Shown in the Feet.
Female Animals Unprotected—SeeFather Animals Unparental.
FENCING OUT ENEMIES
Moral evils are kept out not by a thorn fence, but by holy ideals and loving activities. These are quite as effective for character as this Arizona device for excluding rattlesnakes:
Did you ever hear of a rattlesnake fence—not one made of rattlesnakes, of course not, but one made of prickly thorns to protect one from the rattlers and keep them away? That is what the Arizona campers build, and the only way to keep these deadly poisoners away is by building one of these fences of oktea, a shrub covered with thorns which grows on the desert.As the tents have no doors and are not set much above the ground, it would appear easy for Mr. Rattler to effect an entrance. Imagine the sensation of crawling into bed some cold night to strike against the clammy skin of a snake, and this is just where Mr. Snake likes to snuggle, in among the warm blankets.To avoid this men who work in the mines have found that a snake will not go near this oktea, and they have built closely knit fences around their tents, with little gates to go in and out, and beyond this the rattler will not penetrate. It was first the Indians of the desert who discovered this deadly shrub, and they got the secret from birds and animals, which, to protect their young, travel sometimes many miles back and forth, bringing the thorns with which to cover their little nests. Gophers and other small animals there cover their nests in this manner.—Los AngelesTimes.
Did you ever hear of a rattlesnake fence—not one made of rattlesnakes, of course not, but one made of prickly thorns to protect one from the rattlers and keep them away? That is what the Arizona campers build, and the only way to keep these deadly poisoners away is by building one of these fences of oktea, a shrub covered with thorns which grows on the desert.
As the tents have no doors and are not set much above the ground, it would appear easy for Mr. Rattler to effect an entrance. Imagine the sensation of crawling into bed some cold night to strike against the clammy skin of a snake, and this is just where Mr. Snake likes to snuggle, in among the warm blankets.
To avoid this men who work in the mines have found that a snake will not go near this oktea, and they have built closely knit fences around their tents, with little gates to go in and out, and beyond this the rattler will not penetrate. It was first the Indians of the desert who discovered this deadly shrub, and they got the secret from birds and animals, which, to protect their young, travel sometimes many miles back and forth, bringing the thorns with which to cover their little nests. Gophers and other small animals there cover their nests in this manner.—Los AngelesTimes.
(1090)
FERTILITY
These lines are by Edward Rowland Sill:
Clear water on smooth rockCould give no foothold for a single flower,Or slenderest shaft of grain:The stone must crumble under storm and rain,The forests crash beneath the whirlwind’s power,And broken boughs from any a tempest-shock,And fallen leaves from many a wintry hour,Must mingle in the mold,Before the harvest whitens on the plain,Bearing a hundredfold.Patience, O weary heart!Let all thy sparkling hours depart,And all thy hopes be withered with the frost,And every effort tempest-tossed—So when all life’s green leavesAre fallen, and moldered underneath the sod,Thou shalt not go too lightly to thy God,But heavy with full sheaves. (Text.)
Clear water on smooth rockCould give no foothold for a single flower,Or slenderest shaft of grain:The stone must crumble under storm and rain,The forests crash beneath the whirlwind’s power,And broken boughs from any a tempest-shock,And fallen leaves from many a wintry hour,Must mingle in the mold,Before the harvest whitens on the plain,Bearing a hundredfold.Patience, O weary heart!Let all thy sparkling hours depart,And all thy hopes be withered with the frost,And every effort tempest-tossed—So when all life’s green leavesAre fallen, and moldered underneath the sod,Thou shalt not go too lightly to thy God,But heavy with full sheaves. (Text.)
Clear water on smooth rockCould give no foothold for a single flower,Or slenderest shaft of grain:The stone must crumble under storm and rain,The forests crash beneath the whirlwind’s power,And broken boughs from any a tempest-shock,And fallen leaves from many a wintry hour,Must mingle in the mold,Before the harvest whitens on the plain,Bearing a hundredfold.Patience, O weary heart!Let all thy sparkling hours depart,And all thy hopes be withered with the frost,And every effort tempest-tossed—So when all life’s green leavesAre fallen, and moldered underneath the sod,Thou shalt not go too lightly to thy God,But heavy with full sheaves. (Text.)
Clear water on smooth rock
Could give no foothold for a single flower,
Or slenderest shaft of grain:
The stone must crumble under storm and rain,
The forests crash beneath the whirlwind’s power,
And broken boughs from any a tempest-shock,
And fallen leaves from many a wintry hour,
Must mingle in the mold,
Before the harvest whitens on the plain,
Bearing a hundredfold.
Patience, O weary heart!
Let all thy sparkling hours depart,
And all thy hopes be withered with the frost,
And every effort tempest-tossed—
So when all life’s green leaves
Are fallen, and moldered underneath the sod,
Thou shalt not go too lightly to thy God,
But heavy with full sheaves. (Text.)
(1091)
FETISHISM
Miss F. M. Dennis writes from Ebu Owerri, a place about seventy miles southeast of Onitsha, North Africa:
It is a custom in this Ibo country when a child is born for the parents to go into the bush, cut a stick from a tree and plant it. When the child is old enough to walk and know anything it worships this young tree. All the Ibo people have them. But until the child comes to man’s estate and has a household, this is the only idol he has.
It is a custom in this Ibo country when a child is born for the parents to go into the bush, cut a stick from a tree and plant it. When the child is old enough to walk and know anything it worships this young tree. All the Ibo people have them. But until the child comes to man’s estate and has a household, this is the only idol he has.
(1092)
The negroes of the Gold and Slave Coasts, like every other people low in the stage of civilization, believe that inanimate, as well as animate, objects have souls or ghosts, a belief which is proved by the practise of burying arms, implements, utensils, etc., for the use of the dead in Dead-land, and there continues the former pursuit of the man, using the souls or ghosts of the weapons buried with him; but the negroes have gone beyond this, and just as they believe man to possess a third element, or indwelling spirit, so do they believe that every natural object, everything not made by human hands, has, in addition to its soul or ghost, a third element of spiritual individuality. They hold that just as, when the man dies, the kra of the man enters a new-born child, and the soul, or ghost-man, goes to Dead-land; so, when the tree dies, the kra, so to speak, of the tree enters a seedling, and the ghost-tree goes to join the ranks of the shadowy forest in Dead-land. And it is these animating or spiritual tenants of natural objects and natural features that the negro fears and consequently worships.—A. B. Ellis,The Popular Science Monthly.
The negroes of the Gold and Slave Coasts, like every other people low in the stage of civilization, believe that inanimate, as well as animate, objects have souls or ghosts, a belief which is proved by the practise of burying arms, implements, utensils, etc., for the use of the dead in Dead-land, and there continues the former pursuit of the man, using the souls or ghosts of the weapons buried with him; but the negroes have gone beyond this, and just as they believe man to possess a third element, or indwelling spirit, so do they believe that every natural object, everything not made by human hands, has, in addition to its soul or ghost, a third element of spiritual individuality. They hold that just as, when the man dies, the kra of the man enters a new-born child, and the soul, or ghost-man, goes to Dead-land; so, when the tree dies, the kra, so to speak, of the tree enters a seedling, and the ghost-tree goes to join the ranks of the shadowy forest in Dead-land. And it is these animating or spiritual tenants of natural objects and natural features that the negro fears and consequently worships.—A. B. Ellis,The Popular Science Monthly.
(1093)
Fetters Worn for Others—SeeHardship Vicariously Borne.
Fickleness in Work—SeeAttainment Superficial.
FIDELITY AMONG ANIMALS
Instances of almost human fidelity are common among deer. We have several times been witness of them. On one occasion we had wounded a good stag late in the evening; the herd broke away, leaving him alone. In a few minutes another fine stag, evidently his friend, detached himself from the herd and galloped back to where the first lay wounded in a burn (brook). It got so dark that we could only tell the whereabouts of the wounded beast by seeing the other standing by his side. We crawled up to about a hundred yards of him, but still could not see the one we had shot. We stood up, expecting he would jump up and make a run for it, but he was too badly hit. Walking on, we at last saw his gray head in the heather, and a bullet finished him. Still the devoted friend kept close by and would not leave the spot. We had not the heart to shoot the poor beast after he had given proof of such wonderful fidelity, and at lasthad almost to drive him away.—Lord Walsingham and SirRalph Payne-Gallwey, “Shooting.”
Instances of almost human fidelity are common among deer. We have several times been witness of them. On one occasion we had wounded a good stag late in the evening; the herd broke away, leaving him alone. In a few minutes another fine stag, evidently his friend, detached himself from the herd and galloped back to where the first lay wounded in a burn (brook). It got so dark that we could only tell the whereabouts of the wounded beast by seeing the other standing by his side. We crawled up to about a hundred yards of him, but still could not see the one we had shot. We stood up, expecting he would jump up and make a run for it, but he was too badly hit. Walking on, we at last saw his gray head in the heather, and a bullet finished him. Still the devoted friend kept close by and would not leave the spot. We had not the heart to shoot the poor beast after he had given proof of such wonderful fidelity, and at lasthad almost to drive him away.—Lord Walsingham and SirRalph Payne-Gallwey, “Shooting.”
(1094)
FIDELITY, CHRISTIAN
A little Korean boy named Twee-Sungie was brought by his Christian mother to church Sunday by Sunday and learned about Christ and accepted Him as his Savior. His father was a heathen and worked seven days a week, and forced little Twee-Sungie to do the same. The boy was broken-hearted at being deprived of attending the church services, but he also felt that he was sinning deeply in desecrating God’s day. Calamities came upon the family. A younger brother died, another, Twee-Sungie, was taken ill. As his strength failed he seemed to lose all desire to live. “If I live on in this world, father makes me break God’s commandments, and I will only add sin to sin, so it is better for me to die and go to Jesus.” He tried to turn his father’s thoughts Godward, but the man’s heart was full of evil and bitterness. When the boy died, the relatives proposed that they bury with him the Testament and hymn-book which he loved, for, said they, these books were the cause of his change, and if they are put away, his mother will return to the worship of spirits. So there lies in the grave of the little boy believer, outside the walls of Seoul, the printed page whose message the little lad wished so much to obey.
A little Korean boy named Twee-Sungie was brought by his Christian mother to church Sunday by Sunday and learned about Christ and accepted Him as his Savior. His father was a heathen and worked seven days a week, and forced little Twee-Sungie to do the same. The boy was broken-hearted at being deprived of attending the church services, but he also felt that he was sinning deeply in desecrating God’s day. Calamities came upon the family. A younger brother died, another, Twee-Sungie, was taken ill. As his strength failed he seemed to lose all desire to live. “If I live on in this world, father makes me break God’s commandments, and I will only add sin to sin, so it is better for me to die and go to Jesus.” He tried to turn his father’s thoughts Godward, but the man’s heart was full of evil and bitterness. When the boy died, the relatives proposed that they bury with him the Testament and hymn-book which he loved, for, said they, these books were the cause of his change, and if they are put away, his mother will return to the worship of spirits. So there lies in the grave of the little boy believer, outside the walls of Seoul, the printed page whose message the little lad wished so much to obey.
(1095)
FIDELITY, MISTAKEN
A pathetic story is told by the SavannahNewsof a tragedy caused by the terrible storm which swept the Southern coast. Captain Matheson, of the schoonerNellie Floyd, is the hero. The story runs thus:
When theFloydfoundered and it was certain that she must leave her bones in that marine graveyard off the North Carolina coast, a life-raft of hatches was constructed, and the crew, including the captain, piled on it. As they were about to push off, trusting to fortune to be picked up by a passing ship, Captain Matheson looked back upon his beloved schooner, then in its death-throes. His heart smote him. He felt like a deserter. The suffering but inanimate bulk called to him, and he could not resist the call. “I am going back, boys,” he said; “good-by, and good luck to you.” Then he scrambled back to the decks, by that time awash and fast settling. And in sight of the crew the ship and her captain went down to their fate.
When theFloydfoundered and it was certain that she must leave her bones in that marine graveyard off the North Carolina coast, a life-raft of hatches was constructed, and the crew, including the captain, piled on it. As they were about to push off, trusting to fortune to be picked up by a passing ship, Captain Matheson looked back upon his beloved schooner, then in its death-throes. His heart smote him. He felt like a deserter. The suffering but inanimate bulk called to him, and he could not resist the call. “I am going back, boys,” he said; “good-by, and good luck to you.” Then he scrambled back to the decks, by that time awash and fast settling. And in sight of the crew the ship and her captain went down to their fate.
(1096)
FIDELITY REWARDED
An English farmer sent his hired boy to prevent a party of gentlemen from riding over his fields. The leader of the huntsmen peremptorily ordered him to open the gate. Upon his refusal, he said shortly, “Boy, do you know who I am? I am the Duke of Wellington, and I am not accustomed to disobedience. I command you to open this gate.” The boy lifted his cap and stood unawed before the “man of iron will,” and said in a firm voice, “I am sure the Duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey the orders of my employer, who tells me not to suffer any one to pass.” The Duke sat his horse for a moment, and then looking stedfastly at the boy, lifted his own hat and replied, “I honor the man or boy who is faithful to his duty, and who can neither be bribed or frightened into doing wrong.” He handed a bright new sovereign to the boy, who had done what Napoleon could not do; he had kept back the Duke of Wellington.—James T. White, “Character Lessons.”
An English farmer sent his hired boy to prevent a party of gentlemen from riding over his fields. The leader of the huntsmen peremptorily ordered him to open the gate. Upon his refusal, he said shortly, “Boy, do you know who I am? I am the Duke of Wellington, and I am not accustomed to disobedience. I command you to open this gate.” The boy lifted his cap and stood unawed before the “man of iron will,” and said in a firm voice, “I am sure the Duke of Wellington would not wish me to disobey the orders of my employer, who tells me not to suffer any one to pass.” The Duke sat his horse for a moment, and then looking stedfastly at the boy, lifted his own hat and replied, “I honor the man or boy who is faithful to his duty, and who can neither be bribed or frightened into doing wrong.” He handed a bright new sovereign to the boy, who had done what Napoleon could not do; he had kept back the Duke of Wellington.—James T. White, “Character Lessons.”
(1097)
FIDELITY TO COUNTRY
In the fight of Trautenau (Austro-Prussian War, 1866), a young officer, hard hit, was lying on his back in a ditch, where he begged his foes to let him remain. Shortly after, he died. Then it was found that, even with his life ebbing fast, his body had served to protect the “bit of rag” which on the morning of that day had been the standard of the regiment. He had carefully folded it up, and laid down upon it to die. “One thing” was in that soldier’s heart—to save his country’s colors from capture and disgrace.
In the fight of Trautenau (Austro-Prussian War, 1866), a young officer, hard hit, was lying on his back in a ditch, where he begged his foes to let him remain. Shortly after, he died. Then it was found that, even with his life ebbing fast, his body had served to protect the “bit of rag” which on the morning of that day had been the standard of the regiment. He had carefully folded it up, and laid down upon it to die. “One thing” was in that soldier’s heart—to save his country’s colors from capture and disgrace.
(1098)
FIDELITY TO DUTY
The wrecking of theMaine, happening at night, was so sudden and the convulsion was over in so brief a time, that a chance for a display of heroism seemed next to impossible; and yet, in the terror of that awful scene, every surviving man immediately recovered himself and stood to his discipline. Not one comrade was forsaken by another. The last seen of the lost lieutenant was at the turret under his charge, weak and staggering with his wounds. The marine on duty, true to his habit of service, rushed through a dark passage flooded with water, and reported that the ship had been blownup and was sinking. It did not occur to him to save himself until his duty was done. Officers and men, in danger of being swamped by the death struggle of the ship, rowed around her, trying to save life, and careless of their own. The captain was the last to leave the ship. No man sought his own safety at the sacrifice of another, nor sought it first.—Youth’s Companion.
The wrecking of theMaine, happening at night, was so sudden and the convulsion was over in so brief a time, that a chance for a display of heroism seemed next to impossible; and yet, in the terror of that awful scene, every surviving man immediately recovered himself and stood to his discipline. Not one comrade was forsaken by another. The last seen of the lost lieutenant was at the turret under his charge, weak and staggering with his wounds. The marine on duty, true to his habit of service, rushed through a dark passage flooded with water, and reported that the ship had been blownup and was sinking. It did not occur to him to save himself until his duty was done. Officers and men, in danger of being swamped by the death struggle of the ship, rowed around her, trying to save life, and careless of their own. The captain was the last to leave the ship. No man sought his own safety at the sacrifice of another, nor sought it first.—Youth’s Companion.
(1099)
FIDELITY TO THE RIGHT
Lydia M. Child said she would never work on a winning side. Lydia Maria Child was a writer in the full tide of popularity when she devoted herself to the anti-slavery cause. She was subjected to social and literary ostracism. Her books were returned, her friends forsook her, and Church and press denounced her. But this did not daunt her spirit nor swerve her for one instant from the cause she felt was right, and she consecrated the rest of her life to its support. Words can not describe the deprivation to which she was subjected, but she felt no loss. As the inspiration spread, mothers sent their children from house to house with her “appeal,” and vitally assisted the great movement.—James T. White, “Character Lessons.”
Lydia M. Child said she would never work on a winning side. Lydia Maria Child was a writer in the full tide of popularity when she devoted herself to the anti-slavery cause. She was subjected to social and literary ostracism. Her books were returned, her friends forsook her, and Church and press denounced her. But this did not daunt her spirit nor swerve her for one instant from the cause she felt was right, and she consecrated the rest of her life to its support. Words can not describe the deprivation to which she was subjected, but she felt no loss. As the inspiration spread, mothers sent their children from house to house with her “appeal,” and vitally assisted the great movement.—James T. White, “Character Lessons.”
(1100)
Fidelity to the Thing Undertaken—SeeThoroughness.
Fighting—SeeBoys’ Adjusting Their Troubles;Strategy.
Fighting, Causes for—SeePeacemaker, The.
Fighting Qualities Admired—SeeAccomplishment.
FIGUREHEADS
The time is ripe for abolishing figureheads in the moral, ecclesiastical and social world, as well as in the navy.
Secretary Meyer has approved an order originating in the United States Bureau of Construction for the removal from all the vessels of the Atlantic fleet of their figureheads. This action is based purely on war-service reasons. It is urged that in time of peace for maneuver purposes the figureheads, if gilded, afford a shining mark to reveal to the constructive enemy the whereabouts of the ship and in time of war, if painted with the protective war color, the artistic value of the figurehead is wholly lost. Furthermore, figureheads cost a good deal of money and have a good deal of weight, and serve no practical value whatever in warfare.Even as far back as the times of the Greeks and Romans, and the Phœnicians and Egyptians, figureheads, made often in the image of the gods of war, were regarded as important to their triremes as oars or rudders. Great Britain has at her navy-yards at Southampton, Portsmouth and other points arranged figureheads from the old wooden ships of her navies as a feature of naval museums. Of course, the figureheads from American battleships would be a different thing. Most of them are made of brass, and are in some cases fine works of art.The figurehead on theOlympia, which was designed by St. Gaudens, cost $12,000; that on theCincinnati, which embodied the design of theOlympia’sfigurehead, cost $5,700. The figurehead on the cruiserNew Yorkis a very fine model of the coat-of-arms of the State. Some of the largest of the figureheads weigh several tons, and in that respect are objectionable.
Secretary Meyer has approved an order originating in the United States Bureau of Construction for the removal from all the vessels of the Atlantic fleet of their figureheads. This action is based purely on war-service reasons. It is urged that in time of peace for maneuver purposes the figureheads, if gilded, afford a shining mark to reveal to the constructive enemy the whereabouts of the ship and in time of war, if painted with the protective war color, the artistic value of the figurehead is wholly lost. Furthermore, figureheads cost a good deal of money and have a good deal of weight, and serve no practical value whatever in warfare.
Even as far back as the times of the Greeks and Romans, and the Phœnicians and Egyptians, figureheads, made often in the image of the gods of war, were regarded as important to their triremes as oars or rudders. Great Britain has at her navy-yards at Southampton, Portsmouth and other points arranged figureheads from the old wooden ships of her navies as a feature of naval museums. Of course, the figureheads from American battleships would be a different thing. Most of them are made of brass, and are in some cases fine works of art.
The figurehead on theOlympia, which was designed by St. Gaudens, cost $12,000; that on theCincinnati, which embodied the design of theOlympia’sfigurehead, cost $5,700. The figurehead on the cruiserNew Yorkis a very fine model of the coat-of-arms of the State. Some of the largest of the figureheads weigh several tons, and in that respect are objectionable.
(1101)
Financially Strong, Morally Weak—SeeDrink, Peril of.
FINITENESS
The tiny dew-drops as they restAt morning on the flow’ret’s breastAre children of the mighty sea,Small gleams of its immensity.The candle shining in the nightFrom the great sun derives its light;Its little beams are truly fire,And upward to their source aspire.No less the humblest son of earthMay lay a claim to heavenly birth;We are not born of senseless clod,But children of the living God.But after all is said and done,The spark of fire is not the sun,The drop of dew is not the sea,Nor is the best man deity.—Charles William Pearson, “A Threefold Cord.”
The tiny dew-drops as they restAt morning on the flow’ret’s breastAre children of the mighty sea,Small gleams of its immensity.The candle shining in the nightFrom the great sun derives its light;Its little beams are truly fire,And upward to their source aspire.No less the humblest son of earthMay lay a claim to heavenly birth;We are not born of senseless clod,But children of the living God.But after all is said and done,The spark of fire is not the sun,The drop of dew is not the sea,Nor is the best man deity.—Charles William Pearson, “A Threefold Cord.”
The tiny dew-drops as they restAt morning on the flow’ret’s breastAre children of the mighty sea,Small gleams of its immensity.
The tiny dew-drops as they rest
At morning on the flow’ret’s breast
Are children of the mighty sea,
Small gleams of its immensity.
The candle shining in the nightFrom the great sun derives its light;Its little beams are truly fire,And upward to their source aspire.
The candle shining in the night
From the great sun derives its light;
Its little beams are truly fire,
And upward to their source aspire.
No less the humblest son of earthMay lay a claim to heavenly birth;We are not born of senseless clod,But children of the living God.
No less the humblest son of earth
May lay a claim to heavenly birth;
We are not born of senseless clod,
But children of the living God.
But after all is said and done,The spark of fire is not the sun,The drop of dew is not the sea,Nor is the best man deity.—Charles William Pearson, “A Threefold Cord.”
But after all is said and done,
The spark of fire is not the sun,
The drop of dew is not the sea,
Nor is the best man deity.
—Charles William Pearson, “A Threefold Cord.”
(1102)
FIRE, COST OF
Fire levies upon Americans each year an enormous tax, calculated by government officials at almost a million and a half dollars a day and 1,499 lives a year.As a result of an investigation by officials of the geological survey, it has been ascertained that cheaper fireproof materials can be used to advantage in construction, thatthree to six times the necessary amount of material is habitually used in structural work, that the building codes are laxly enforced, that the fire loss in the United States is eight times as much per capita as in any country in Europe, and that the great fire waste in the United States is due, principally, to the predominance of frame buildings and to defective construction and equipment.Contrast between the small losses by fire to government buildings and the immense losses reported from the country as a whole, led the geological survey to make an inquiry.Not one person in a thousand knows that the United States Government owns buildings that cost more than $300,000,000, and is spending $20,000,000 a year for new buildings. It will be a surprize to every one, too, to learn that not one cent of insurance against loss by fire is carried on these valuable buildings. Insurance at the ordinary rate would cost more than half a million dollars a year, and the government avoids this great tax by constructing buildings that are securely fireproof.After a careful investigation, it has been determined that the total cost of fires in the United States in 1907, excluding that of forest fires and the marine losses (in themselves extensive), but including excess cost of fire protection due to bad construction and excess premiums over insurance paid, amounted to the enormous sum of $456,485,000, a tax on the American people exceeding the total value of all the gold, silver, copper and petroleum produced in the United States in that year.The cost of building construction in 1907 in forty-nine leading cities of the United States, reporting a total population of less than 18,000,000, amounted to $661,076,286, and the cost of building construction for the entire country is conservatively estimated at $1,000,000,000. Thus it will be seen that nearly one-half of the value of all the new buildings constructed within one year is destroyed by fire. The annual fire cost is greater than the value of the real property and improvements in either Maine, West Virginia, North Carolina, North Dakota, South Dakota, Alabama, Louisiana or Montana. In addition to this waste of wealth and natural resources, 1,499 persons were killed and many thousands were injured in fires in the United States in 1907.The actual fire loss in the United States due to destruction of buildings and their contents amounted to $215,084,709 in 1907. This was $2.51 loss per capita. The per capita loss in the cities of the six leading European countries amounted to but 33 cents. Comparisons of the total cost of fires, which includes the items already stated, show that if buildings in the United States were as nearly fireproof as those in Europe, the annual fire cost would be $90,000,000 instead of $456,000,000. (Text.)—PittsburgLeader.
Fire levies upon Americans each year an enormous tax, calculated by government officials at almost a million and a half dollars a day and 1,499 lives a year.
As a result of an investigation by officials of the geological survey, it has been ascertained that cheaper fireproof materials can be used to advantage in construction, thatthree to six times the necessary amount of material is habitually used in structural work, that the building codes are laxly enforced, that the fire loss in the United States is eight times as much per capita as in any country in Europe, and that the great fire waste in the United States is due, principally, to the predominance of frame buildings and to defective construction and equipment.
Contrast between the small losses by fire to government buildings and the immense losses reported from the country as a whole, led the geological survey to make an inquiry.
Not one person in a thousand knows that the United States Government owns buildings that cost more than $300,000,000, and is spending $20,000,000 a year for new buildings. It will be a surprize to every one, too, to learn that not one cent of insurance against loss by fire is carried on these valuable buildings. Insurance at the ordinary rate would cost more than half a million dollars a year, and the government avoids this great tax by constructing buildings that are securely fireproof.
After a careful investigation, it has been determined that the total cost of fires in the United States in 1907, excluding that of forest fires and the marine losses (in themselves extensive), but including excess cost of fire protection due to bad construction and excess premiums over insurance paid, amounted to the enormous sum of $456,485,000, a tax on the American people exceeding the total value of all the gold, silver, copper and petroleum produced in the United States in that year.
The cost of building construction in 1907 in forty-nine leading cities of the United States, reporting a total population of less than 18,000,000, amounted to $661,076,286, and the cost of building construction for the entire country is conservatively estimated at $1,000,000,000. Thus it will be seen that nearly one-half of the value of all the new buildings constructed within one year is destroyed by fire. The annual fire cost is greater than the value of the real property and improvements in either Maine, West Virginia, North Carolina, North Dakota, South Dakota, Alabama, Louisiana or Montana. In addition to this waste of wealth and natural resources, 1,499 persons were killed and many thousands were injured in fires in the United States in 1907.
The actual fire loss in the United States due to destruction of buildings and their contents amounted to $215,084,709 in 1907. This was $2.51 loss per capita. The per capita loss in the cities of the six leading European countries amounted to but 33 cents. Comparisons of the total cost of fires, which includes the items already stated, show that if buildings in the United States were as nearly fireproof as those in Europe, the annual fire cost would be $90,000,000 instead of $456,000,000. (Text.)—PittsburgLeader.
(1103)
FIRE, HEAVENLY
It was the first engine on the new railroad running through the wilderness. At night, the puffing, snorting monster, belching forth fire and smoke, came dashing out of a dark forest with its one shining eye in front. As it fairly leapt along the track like a thing of life, green reptiles wriggled out of sight, vultures fled to the tree-tops, and wild beasts ran snarling into the jungle. The fire inside of the engine was what did it.When the fire of inspiration gets inside of a man, how much he is like a steam-engine. He moves straight ahead, keeps on the right track, has his eye single to the forward line and his whole soul is full of light and heat. The creatures of darkness flee before him as he emerges into the light that shall never fade. (Text.)
It was the first engine on the new railroad running through the wilderness. At night, the puffing, snorting monster, belching forth fire and smoke, came dashing out of a dark forest with its one shining eye in front. As it fairly leapt along the track like a thing of life, green reptiles wriggled out of sight, vultures fled to the tree-tops, and wild beasts ran snarling into the jungle. The fire inside of the engine was what did it.
When the fire of inspiration gets inside of a man, how much he is like a steam-engine. He moves straight ahead, keeps on the right track, has his eye single to the forward line and his whole soul is full of light and heat. The creatures of darkness flee before him as he emerges into the light that shall never fade. (Text.)
(1104)
Fire Peril—SeeSelf-restraint.
First Aid—SeeKnowledge Applied.
FIRST FRUITS
Have you been watching the buds open their eyes these spring days? They seem to have come out just to see what is going on in this wonderful world. Their number is increasing daily, but if you had put your ear close to the first and tiniest bud of spring, it would have whispered: “I am a hint of what all buds will be when waked out of their wintry sleep.” Will not the children sing for joy when the daisies come? Well, if you could somehow find the first daisy that peeps through the sod, it would say: “I am a sample of what the daisy harvest will be when Mother Summer has drest us all up in robes of gold.” On the brow of a certain hill, I once enjoyed more than a passing acquaintance with a June apple-tree. I used to watch for the coming of its fruit as they that watch for the morning. Now, there was a tradition that June apples were not good until they fell of their own accord. Sometimes, in spying out the land, I would find only one apple upon the ground. Of course, one apple to a growing boy is little more than a delusion and a snare, and it requiredmore than Eve-like fortitude not to shake the tree. But after these many years, what I remember most of all is the taste of that one first apple. Precious in itself and very scarce, so it seemed to me, still it told of the good times coming when its luscious, juicy brothers would yield up their secrets, too.—F. F. Shannon.
Have you been watching the buds open their eyes these spring days? They seem to have come out just to see what is going on in this wonderful world. Their number is increasing daily, but if you had put your ear close to the first and tiniest bud of spring, it would have whispered: “I am a hint of what all buds will be when waked out of their wintry sleep.” Will not the children sing for joy when the daisies come? Well, if you could somehow find the first daisy that peeps through the sod, it would say: “I am a sample of what the daisy harvest will be when Mother Summer has drest us all up in robes of gold.” On the brow of a certain hill, I once enjoyed more than a passing acquaintance with a June apple-tree. I used to watch for the coming of its fruit as they that watch for the morning. Now, there was a tradition that June apples were not good until they fell of their own accord. Sometimes, in spying out the land, I would find only one apple upon the ground. Of course, one apple to a growing boy is little more than a delusion and a snare, and it requiredmore than Eve-like fortitude not to shake the tree. But after these many years, what I remember most of all is the taste of that one first apple. Precious in itself and very scarce, so it seemed to me, still it told of the good times coming when its luscious, juicy brothers would yield up their secrets, too.—F. F. Shannon.
(1105)
Fishermen Superstitious—SeeSuperstitious.
FISHERS OF MEN
In the Crystal Palace at Munich there is a little picture called “The Red Fisherman.” Satan is elegantly accoutered in red costumes, and he is fishing in a pond for men. For his hook he has a great variety of bait—gold, money, pearls, crowns, swords and wines. Apparently he has been fishing with some success, for the bait is much after the sort that men are wont to follow. To compete with the prince of evil, Christians who would be successful “fishers of men” must use bait that will really allure them. (Text.)
In the Crystal Palace at Munich there is a little picture called “The Red Fisherman.” Satan is elegantly accoutered in red costumes, and he is fishing in a pond for men. For his hook he has a great variety of bait—gold, money, pearls, crowns, swords and wines. Apparently he has been fishing with some success, for the bait is much after the sort that men are wont to follow. To compete with the prince of evil, Christians who would be successful “fishers of men” must use bait that will really allure them. (Text.)
(1106)
In her “Fishin’ Jimmy,” Mrs. Slosson tells of a little French-Canadian girl. Her mother was a tramp, and the girl had developed into a wild little heathen. The mother fell suddenly dead near the village one day, and the child was found clinging to her mother’s body. The girl’s soul was shaken by bitter sobs, and when they tried to take her away she fought like a young tigress. There was in the crowd a small boy who knew “Fishin’ Jimmy.” With a child’s faith in his big friend, he hurried away and brought “Fishin’ Jimmy” to the spot. Very tenderly he lifted the child in his arms and took her away. Nobody seems to have known anything about the taming of the little savage, but a short time afterward she and “Fishin’ Jimmy” were seen on the margin of Black Brook, each with a fish-pole. He kept the child for weeks, and when she went at last to a good home, she had exchanged her wildness for a tender, affectionate nature. Then people wondered how the change was wrought. They asked Jimmy, but his explanation seemed to breathe an air of mystery. “’Twas fishin’ done it,” he said, “on’y fishin’; it allers works. The Christian r’liging itself had to begin with fishin’, ye know.” Yes, the religion of our Master had to begin with fishing; it will continue with fishing, and it will end with fishing, for this is indeed life’s divinest task. (Text.)—F. F. Shannon.
In her “Fishin’ Jimmy,” Mrs. Slosson tells of a little French-Canadian girl. Her mother was a tramp, and the girl had developed into a wild little heathen. The mother fell suddenly dead near the village one day, and the child was found clinging to her mother’s body. The girl’s soul was shaken by bitter sobs, and when they tried to take her away she fought like a young tigress. There was in the crowd a small boy who knew “Fishin’ Jimmy.” With a child’s faith in his big friend, he hurried away and brought “Fishin’ Jimmy” to the spot. Very tenderly he lifted the child in his arms and took her away. Nobody seems to have known anything about the taming of the little savage, but a short time afterward she and “Fishin’ Jimmy” were seen on the margin of Black Brook, each with a fish-pole. He kept the child for weeks, and when she went at last to a good home, she had exchanged her wildness for a tender, affectionate nature. Then people wondered how the change was wrought. They asked Jimmy, but his explanation seemed to breathe an air of mystery. “’Twas fishin’ done it,” he said, “on’y fishin’; it allers works. The Christian r’liging itself had to begin with fishin’, ye know.” Yes, the religion of our Master had to begin with fishing; it will continue with fishing, and it will end with fishing, for this is indeed life’s divinest task. (Text.)—F. F. Shannon.
(1107)
FITNESS
One of John Wesley’s friends was terribly shocked to hear him preach to a well-groomed congregation a merciless sermon from the text, “Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?” “Sir,” said Wesley’s friend angrily, “such a sermon would have been suitable in Billingsgate; but it is highly improper here.” Wesley replied, “If I had been in Billingsgate, my text should have been, ‘Behold the lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.’”
One of John Wesley’s friends was terribly shocked to hear him preach to a well-groomed congregation a merciless sermon from the text, “Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?” “Sir,” said Wesley’s friend angrily, “such a sermon would have been suitable in Billingsgate; but it is highly improper here.” Wesley replied, “If I had been in Billingsgate, my text should have been, ‘Behold the lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.’”
(1108)
SeeUnfitness.
Fitness, Lack of—SeeAccommodation.
Flag, Dishonoring the—SeePatriotism, Lack of.
Flag, Rescuing the—SeeSymbols, the Value of.
Flaws—SeeCharity.
Flight and Vision—SeeElevation and Vision.
Flight of the Soul—SeeSoul Flight.
FLOOD-TIDE, SPIRITUAL
I stood on the coast of England, and looked out over a stretch of oozy slime and ill-smelling mud. There were the barges high and dry, lying on their sides—no matter what cargo they carried or how skilful the captain, they were on the mud. It would have availed them nothing to heave the anchor or hoist the sail. And I thought, What is the remedy? Were it any use for the corporation to pass a by-law that every citizen should bring kettles filled with water, and pour it out upon the stretch of mud?But as I watched I saw the remedy. God turned the tide. In swept the waters of the sea, and buried the mud, and then came the breath of sweetness and life. And it flowed in about the barges, and instantly all was activity. Then heave-ho with the anchor, then hoist the sails, then forth upon some errand of good. So it is that we stand looking out upon many a dreadful evil which fills us with dismay—drunkenness, gambling, impurity. Is there any remedy? And the churches, so very respectable, but, alas, high and dry on the muddy beach—for these, too, what is the remedy? We want the flood-tide—the gracious outpouring of the Spirit; then must come the roused and quickened churches, the Christians transformed intoChrist-like men and women who shall demand righteousness.—Mark Guy Pearce.
I stood on the coast of England, and looked out over a stretch of oozy slime and ill-smelling mud. There were the barges high and dry, lying on their sides—no matter what cargo they carried or how skilful the captain, they were on the mud. It would have availed them nothing to heave the anchor or hoist the sail. And I thought, What is the remedy? Were it any use for the corporation to pass a by-law that every citizen should bring kettles filled with water, and pour it out upon the stretch of mud?
But as I watched I saw the remedy. God turned the tide. In swept the waters of the sea, and buried the mud, and then came the breath of sweetness and life. And it flowed in about the barges, and instantly all was activity. Then heave-ho with the anchor, then hoist the sails, then forth upon some errand of good. So it is that we stand looking out upon many a dreadful evil which fills us with dismay—drunkenness, gambling, impurity. Is there any remedy? And the churches, so very respectable, but, alas, high and dry on the muddy beach—for these, too, what is the remedy? We want the flood-tide—the gracious outpouring of the Spirit; then must come the roused and quickened churches, the Christians transformed intoChrist-like men and women who shall demand righteousness.—Mark Guy Pearce.
(1109)
Flowers—SeeService.
Flowers, Fond of—SeeGenerosity.
FLOWERS, MEANINGS OF
The most remarkable of the floral emblems is the passion-flower—the common blue one. Its leaves are thought to represent the head of the spear by which Christ’s side was pierced; the five points, the five sacred wounds; the tendrils, the cords which bound Him; the ten petals, the ten faithful apostles, omitting the one who denied Him (Peter); the pillar in the center is the cross, the stamens, the hammers; the styles, the nails; the circle around the pillar, the crown of thorns; the radiance, the glory. It is used on Holy Thursday. The fleur-de-lis, or conventional form of the lily, is the symbol of the Virgin Mary, adopted in the Middle Ages. It is also an emblem of purity. It is always placed by the medieval painters in the hand of the Angel Gabriel, and sometimes in the hand of the Infant Savior, and of St. Joseph. Lilies-of-the-valley are the floral emblem of Christ. “The Rose of Sharon” and the “Lily-of-the-valley” are emblems of humility. The rose is also an emblem of Christ. The laurel is an emblem of victory and glory, also of constancy, as the leaf changes only in death. Ivy denotes immortality. The laurestinus has the same meaning. (Text.)—The Decorator and Furnisher.
The most remarkable of the floral emblems is the passion-flower—the common blue one. Its leaves are thought to represent the head of the spear by which Christ’s side was pierced; the five points, the five sacred wounds; the tendrils, the cords which bound Him; the ten petals, the ten faithful apostles, omitting the one who denied Him (Peter); the pillar in the center is the cross, the stamens, the hammers; the styles, the nails; the circle around the pillar, the crown of thorns; the radiance, the glory. It is used on Holy Thursday. The fleur-de-lis, or conventional form of the lily, is the symbol of the Virgin Mary, adopted in the Middle Ages. It is also an emblem of purity. It is always placed by the medieval painters in the hand of the Angel Gabriel, and sometimes in the hand of the Infant Savior, and of St. Joseph. Lilies-of-the-valley are the floral emblem of Christ. “The Rose of Sharon” and the “Lily-of-the-valley” are emblems of humility. The rose is also an emblem of Christ. The laurel is an emblem of victory and glory, also of constancy, as the leaf changes only in death. Ivy denotes immortality. The laurestinus has the same meaning. (Text.)—The Decorator and Furnisher.
(1110)
FLUENCY, THE PERIL OF
The fluent speaker is sometimes reminded that his gifts are fatal; and here is a bright tip from theAtlanticto the fluent writer: “The writer who is unusually fluent should take warning from the instruction which accompanies his fountain pen: ‘When this pen flows too freely, it is a sign that it is nearly empty and should be filled.’”
The fluent speaker is sometimes reminded that his gifts are fatal; and here is a bright tip from theAtlanticto the fluent writer: “The writer who is unusually fluent should take warning from the instruction which accompanies his fountain pen: ‘When this pen flows too freely, it is a sign that it is nearly empty and should be filled.’”
(1111)
FLY, THE COMMON HOUSE.
The house-fly has developed along with the human dwelling. If we had no closed-in dwelling places, it is doubtful if the house-fly, as at present constituted, could continue to exist. It thrives simply because we afford it food, and a breeding-place.At first he is only a little worm, wriggling his tiny grub-like form in some incubating pile of filth, usually the manure pile, the outhouse, or the mound of rubbish or garbage in the back yard. In this condition he is easily killed, and it should be the duty of every person to kill him then. The house-fly could not exist if everything were kept perfectly clean and sanitary. Exterminate the fly-worms, do away with their breeding places, and there will be no flies.
The house-fly has developed along with the human dwelling. If we had no closed-in dwelling places, it is doubtful if the house-fly, as at present constituted, could continue to exist. It thrives simply because we afford it food, and a breeding-place.
At first he is only a little worm, wriggling his tiny grub-like form in some incubating pile of filth, usually the manure pile, the outhouse, or the mound of rubbish or garbage in the back yard. In this condition he is easily killed, and it should be the duty of every person to kill him then. The house-fly could not exist if everything were kept perfectly clean and sanitary. Exterminate the fly-worms, do away with their breeding places, and there will be no flies.
COMMON HOUSE-FLY
COMMON HOUSE-FLY
The common house-fly is coming to be known as the “typhoid fly,” and when the term becomes universal, greater care will be exercised in protecting the house from his presence. Flies swallow the germs of typhoid in countless millions while feeding on excreta. They spread a thousand times more typhoid germs in their excreta than on their feet.As soon as the fly comes out of his shell he is full grown and starts out in the world to make a living, and if your home is not clean, he knows it; for the fly can discern an unclean odor for miles. A pleasant-smelling substance—the fragrance of flowers, geraniums, mignonette, lavender, or any perfumery—will drive them away.Look at the picture of the fly. The feet, each of them, is equipped with two claws and two light-colored pads. The fly clings to rough surfaces by means of the claws and to smooth surfaces by a combined action of the claws and pads. The fly’s pads are covered with thousands of minute short hairs sticky at the end. There is no suction—merely adhesion.All his grown-up life, the fly has to manage with sticky feet. These are constantly becoming clogged with adhering substances, and this contamination the fly must assiduously remove if his feet are to act properly in supporting him on slippery places. If this contamination is too sticky to rub off, the fly laps it off, and it then passes off through the stomach.The fly lays her eggs in the manure-pile or some other filthy place. All the germs—all the microbes—fasten themselves on the spongy feet. The fly brings them into the house and wipes them off. The fly that you see walking over your food is covered with filth and germs.
The common house-fly is coming to be known as the “typhoid fly,” and when the term becomes universal, greater care will be exercised in protecting the house from his presence. Flies swallow the germs of typhoid in countless millions while feeding on excreta. They spread a thousand times more typhoid germs in their excreta than on their feet.
As soon as the fly comes out of his shell he is full grown and starts out in the world to make a living, and if your home is not clean, he knows it; for the fly can discern an unclean odor for miles. A pleasant-smelling substance—the fragrance of flowers, geraniums, mignonette, lavender, or any perfumery—will drive them away.
Look at the picture of the fly. The feet, each of them, is equipped with two claws and two light-colored pads. The fly clings to rough surfaces by means of the claws and to smooth surfaces by a combined action of the claws and pads. The fly’s pads are covered with thousands of minute short hairs sticky at the end. There is no suction—merely adhesion.All his grown-up life, the fly has to manage with sticky feet. These are constantly becoming clogged with adhering substances, and this contamination the fly must assiduously remove if his feet are to act properly in supporting him on slippery places. If this contamination is too sticky to rub off, the fly laps it off, and it then passes off through the stomach.
The fly lays her eggs in the manure-pile or some other filthy place. All the germs—all the microbes—fasten themselves on the spongy feet. The fly brings them into the house and wipes them off. The fly that you see walking over your food is covered with filth and germs.