By W. F. COLLIER, LL. D.
Call of Abraham.—The next important step chronicled in the Mosaic history of man is the call of Abraham, ten generations after Noah. Abram was born 1996 B. C. Ur, a Chaldæan city, was his birthplace. Terah, Abram’s father, removed from Ur to Haran, in Mesopotamia.
The Lord spake to Abram while residing in Haran, when he was seventy-five years old, and commanded him to leave his father’s house, to separate himself from his kindred, to depart from his country, and to go to a land that should be shown him.
The Lord said to him, “I will make thee a great nation, and will bless thee, and make thy name great, and thou shalt be a blessing. And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee. And in thee shall all the families of the earth be blessed.” Abram, in obedience to this command, set out with his wife Sarai, and his nephew Lot, taking with him his flocks and herds, and journeyed into the land of Canaan. Having arrived, his first act was to erect an altar, and sacrifice to the Lord. From this place he moved to the east of Bethel, and again built an altar and worshipped. A famine drove him from his new home into Egypt, where was an abundance of food. Having spent some time in the land of the Pharaohs, he returned to Canaan, greatly enriched by his sojourn in Egypt. Soon after the return from Egypt Lot separated himself from Abram, and settled in the valley of the Jordan, while Abram sought the hill country, and finally sat down in the neighborhood of the ancient city of Hebron. The king of Chaldæa made a raid on the cities of Canaan, and carried off Lot, with other prisoners. This fact coming to the knowledge of Abram, he immediately set out to rescue his relation. Having over three hundred servants, he attacked the camp of the invaders at night, set them to flight, and rescued his nephew.
This is the first battle recorded in history.
When Abram was one hundred years old the Lord’s promise was renewed to him. His name was changed to Abraham, the name of his wife to Sarah; and Isaac, through whom the promise of a great progeny was to be fulfilled, was born. When Isaac was forty years old, Abraham sent his servant to Mesopotamia to obtain a wife for him. His second cousin, the grand-daughter of his father’s brother, was selected, and she consented to go back with the servant and marry her kinsman. From this marriage two sons were born, Esau and Jacob. By the right of birth Esau possessed certain advantages, which Jacob purchased of him by dressing him some food when returning faint and hungry from the chase, thereby supplanting him. He afterwards, by deceiving his father, who was nearly blind, obtained from him the parental blessing conferred only upon the first born. This so enraged his brother, that Jacob sought safety in flight, and went to his mother’s brother in Mesopotamia. There he was kindly received, and after a short time had elapsed he entered into the service of his uncle, and agreed to labor for him seven years for his youngest daughter. Having fulfilled his part of the contract, Laban, his uncle, gave him hiseldestdaughter. When Jacob discovered the deception his father-in-law had practiced upon him, he demanded Rachel. Laban, however, required him to serve another seven years, which he did. After the second marriage he continued still to live with Laban, and received as pay a share of his flocks. In securing this share, he was thought by his brothers-in-law to have practiced unfair means, hence they became hostile to him. His father-in-law also having become unfriendly, he fled, and returned to his native land with his family and his flocks. Laban pursued and overtook him, and though their meeting was far from being friendly, they entered into an agreement, and gave pledges that they would not annoy each other in future. Jacob then pursued his journey. As he approached his native country he sent presents to his brother Esau, who came out to meet him, and they became reconciled.
Jacob journeyed on to Canaan, and sat down in the city Shalim. Soon after he removed to Hebron, the home of his childhood. He was rich in flocks and herds, and his neighbors respected and feared him. In accordance with the patriarchal mode of life, his twelve sons and one daughter remained with him, who, with their wives, children, and servants, made a large family or tribe.
Joseph.—Jacob treated the children of Rachel, his beloved wife, with greater tenderness than he did those of Leah, his first wife, and Joseph was his favorite. The partiality shown to this son so enraged his brothers that they determined to get rid of him. They found an opportunity to carry out their design under the following circumstances. The older brothers having been absent with their flocks so long that their father became anxious about their safety, and sent Joseph to search for them. As they beheld him afar off they plotted to murder him; but, taking the advice of Reuben, they imprisoned him in a pit in the wilderness. Soon after his confinement a caravan of traveling merchants passed, and to these they sold Joseph into slavery, telling their father that he had been destroyed by wild beasts. The merchants carried him into Egypt, and disposed of him to Potiphar, the commander of the king’s guards. In Potiphar’s house he rose to great eminence as a servant; but falling into disgrace through a false accusation, he was thrown into prison. While in prison his conduct was so exemplary and submissive, that he gained the favor of the jailor, and was allowed the freedom of the prison. Later on he was summoned to appear before the king to explain certain dreams which troubled Pharaoh. Appearing before the great monarch, Joseph disclaimed all power in himself to explain the meaning of what had appeared to the mind of the king, butmodestly and reverently said the Lord of his fathers would show the signification. The king having told his dreams, Joseph predicted seven years of great plenty, to be succeeded by seven years of dearth, and advised Pharaoh to build vast granaries and fill them, during the years of abundance. The advice was immediately acted upon, and Joseph was elevated to the rank of governor of all Egypt, and the erection of storehouses, and the filling of them with grain, was entrusted to him. The years of plenty came and passed away, and were succeeded by tedious years of sore famine. While the Egyptians had stores of food laid up by the providence and foresight of Joseph, the neighboring nations, having exhausted their stock of provisions, were obliged to go to Egypt to buy. The dearth oppressing the inhabitants of Canaan, Joseph’s brothers came down to purchase also. While on a second visit to buy food, they were made aware that their despised and hated brother, whom they had sold into slavery, was the governor of Egypt.
Having made himself known to them, they were overwhelmed with surprise and fear; but he most magnanimously pardoned and comforted them by saying, “Be not grieved or angry with yourselves that ye sold me hither, for God did send me before you to preserve life.” (Genesis xlv: 5, 7.) “God sent me before you to preserve you a posterity in the earth, and to save yourselves for a great deliverance.”
Joseph’s father and all his family were at once brought into Egypt, and established with their flocks and herds on the eastern bank of the lower Nile, where Joseph nourished them, and where they prospered for many generations, until a new king arose, who knew not Joseph.
The Exodus.—The part of Egypt in which Joseph had settled his family was one of the most fertile parts of the valley of the Nile. Skirted on the south by hills, it sloped off to the northwest toward the Mediterranean Sea, thus affording the most favorable exposure for the purpose of the pastoral life which the Israelites led. For more than a century they pursued their quiet employment, and were treated by the Egyptians with respect and consideration, in memory of Prince Joseph. The prosperity and increase of the Israelites, with their distinctness as a people, alarmed the Egyptian powers, who turned their attention to some means to cripple them and arrest their increase. Oppression was resorted to. Privileges were withheld, and severer tasks imposed, until one tremendous groan went up from the land of Goshen to the God of their fathers. In spite of all the oppression and injustice practiced upon this people, they throve and increased in numbers.
The Lord heard the cry of the outraged Hebrew slave, and permitted his enemies to afflict him, that he might find the country hateful, and feel that he was only a sojourner, who was to seek a promised land, the land promised to his father, Abraham. Their burdens became intolerable. Moses, their leader, applied to Pharaoh to allow them to depart from the country; but the king refused, and God afflicted the Egyptians with dreadful plagues, until they prayed the Israelites to depart. They set out with all their effects, moving toward Arabia, and on reaching the shores of the Red Sea they became aware of the fact that Pharaoh, with his army, was pursuing.
Hemmed in on either side by hills, the sea before them, and their enemies behind, they were overwhelmed with despair. But now the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, their fathers, delivered them with a great deliverance, for, at his command, the sea opened and allowed them to pass over in safety. Pharaoh, pursuing, led his chariots and horsemen into the bed of the sea, and the returning waters engulfed them. All were destroyed, notoneescaped; a terrific exhibition of the wrath of the Almighty. The Israelites journeyed on toward Canaan, the land of promise, spending forty years in the desert of Arabia, living in tents, subsisting on manna, which they found on the ground in the morning, and on the flesh of birds, which came to them every evening, making their whole journey a series of miracles and special providences. They finally reached the Jordan, which, like the Red Sea, opened for them, and allowed them to pass over dry-shod. The inhabitants of the land were driven out, and the weary wanderers, who had crossed and recrossed their path in the rocky wilds and desert sands of Arabia, sat down in the land of their fathers, and became dwellers in permanent habitations.
By W. F. COLLIER, LL. D.
Between the time of the entry of the Israelites into Canaan and the birth of our Savior, a period of 1,451 years elapsed. It is not our object to follow out the history of this wonderful nation, yet it would seem necessary to state briefly their progress.
For several centuries they remained much in the same state as Joshua, their great captain, left them; contending with the surrounding tribes whenever their encroachments were disputed, at other times living friendly with them; not only intermarrying, but allowing themselves to be seduced into idolatry; for which sin the Lord permitted the neighboring nations, in more than one instance, to conquer them, to break up their government, and carry the principal inhabitants into captivity. In each case, however, after long and weary years of captivity, their country was restored to them, and the spoilers themselves were made instruments in the hands of God to reconstruct the nation.
Social and Religious Condition.—During the forty years of wandering in the wilderness, very little opportunity was afforded for the exercise of the arts of life. It is difficult to conjecture the employment of that vast multitude during all those years.
The construction of the tabernacle and its furniture called into use the skill and workmanship of the best artisans; but, aside from that, there was nothing to tax their talent. During the forty years they lost the arts they had learned in Egypt.
For many years after they entered the Holy Land their mode of living was rude and simple, depending mainly upon the produce of their flocks and herds for sustenance. We have reason to infer that they also drew upon the same source for many articles of clothing.
The forty years of pilgrimage in the wilderness swept into the grave nearly all the vast multitude that left Egypt with Moses. Those who entered the Holy Land had not witnessed the idolatry of Egypt. Moreover, their very existence had depended upon the fall of the manna. Witnessing this daily miracle, a spirit of dependence and submission must have engrafted itself upon this new generation.
The dreary chastisement of the forty years, the plagues that once and again made such havoc, the sad fact that the bones of their fathers were left to whiten in the wilderness, must have produced a terrible impression. The people who came out from Egypt were haughty, unbelieving, rebellious. Their descendants, humbled by chastisement, made dependent by their helplessness, became gentle, submissive, and obedient. We must hence infer that they remained for many years simple in habit and devotional in spirit.
For three hundred and thirty-two years after the death of Joshua, the successor of Moses, the Israelites were governed by judges. During this period the Jews were a nation of farmers, and each farmer was the proprietor of his own farm. The size of the farm allotted to each family may at first have averaged from twenty to fifty acres; and as there werevery few servants or laborers, except such hewers of wood and drawers of water as the Gibeonites, each family had to cultivate its own estate. The houses were seldom built apart from each other, like the farm houses of our own country—that would have been too insecure; they were placed together in villages, towns, and cities; and when the place was very much exposed, and of great importance, it was surrounded by a wall.
The lands were adapted chiefly for three kinds of produce—grain, fruit, and pasture. Wheat, millet, barley, and beans were the principal kinds of grain; flax and cotton were also cultivated, and small garden herbs, such as anise, cummin, mint, and rue. (Mat. xxiii: 23.)
The orchards were exceedingly productive. The olive, fig, pomegranate, vine, almond, and apple were all common; and a great part of the time of the Hebrews, in days of peace, must have been spent in cultivating these fruit trees.
As beasts of burden they had the ox, the camel, and the ass; while sheep and goats constituted the staple of their flocks.
Their grain harvest began about the beginning of our April, and lasted for about two months. Summer followed, in June and July, and was the season for gathering the garden fruits. The next two months were still warmer, so that the sheep shearing would have to be overtaken before they set in. During all this time little or no rain falls in Palestine. The country becomes excessively parched, the brooks and springs dry up, and almost the only supply of water is from the pools and reservoirs that have been filled during the winter.
October and November are the seed time. “The former rain” falls now. It often falls with violence, fills the dry torrent-beds, and illustrates our Savior’s figure of the rains descending, and the floods coming and beating upon the houses. (Matt. vii: 25, 27.) December and January are the winter months, when frost and snow are not uncommon; February and March are also cold. “The latter rains” fall at this season. About the end of it, “the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land; the fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grapes have a good smell.” (Song of Sol., ii: 11, 13.)
Among the wild trees and vegetable products of the country were the cedar, stable and lofty, an emblem of usefulness and beauty (Ps. xcii: 12); the oak, both the smooth and the prickly sort, which grow in great luxuriance in Bashan; the terebinth, or turpentine tree (translatedoakin our Bibles), a large evergreen, with spreading branches, often growing singly, and so striking as to mark a district—like the terebinth of Shechem, of Mamre (or Hebron), and of Ophrah; the fir, the cypress, the pine, the myrtle, and the mulberry. The oleander and the prickly pear flourished in most situations. The rose and the lily were the common flowers. Altogether, the number of vegetable products was large and varied; and, in such a country, Solomon’s memory and acquirements could not have been contemptible, when “he spake of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall.”
The ordinary employments of the Hebrew farmer were thus ample and varied, but not very toilsome; and often they were pleasantly interrupted. Thrice a year the males went up to Shiloh, to the three great festivals—Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. Each seventh day was a holy Sabbath to the Lord, devoted to rest and worship. At each new moon there was also a holy day. Each seventh year was a year of rest, at least from the ordinary occupations of the field and the garden: it was probably turned to account in repairing houses, clothes, and implements, and particularly in the religious instruction of the people. The education of the children was chiefly in the hands of their parents, assisted by the Levites, who were scattered over the country, and paid from the tithes of the whole produce. On the whole, the Hebrews, in times of peace, led, during this period, a quiet, unambitious, country life.
Occasionally, as in the song of Deborah, we meet with proofs that music, and song, and literary culture were not neglected; and the “divers colors of needlework on both sides,” for which the mother of Sisera waited so anxiously at her window, showed that the Hebrew ladies had acquired no mean skill in the use of their needles. But, on the whole, neither learning, nor the mechanical arts, nor manufactures, nor commerce, nor the fine arts, were very vigorously cultivated, or made much progress during this period. Each man was content to sit under his vine and under his fig tree; and the children of a family were usually quite pleased to divide the possessions, and follow the occupations of their fathers.
The government of the country was carried on chiefly by local officers. It is not easy to ascertain the precise number and nature of the departments of the government, or of the officers by whom they were carried on. But each of the twelve tribes seems to have had a government of its own. Each city had its elders, and each tribe its rulers and princes. In ordinary cases, justice seems to have been administered, and local disputes settled by the tribal authorities. There seem also to have been certain central tribunals. In particular, there was “the whole congregation of Israel”—a sort of house of commons, or states-general, composed of delegates from the whole nation, by whom matters of vital importance to the whole country were considered.
In ordinary times, the high priest seems to have exercised considerable political influence over the nation; and in pressing dangers, the judges were invested with extraordinary powers. The whole of the twelve tribes were welded together, and had great unity of feeling and action imparted to them, through the yearly gatherings at the great religious festivals. When idolatry prevailed in any district of the country, these gatherings would be neglected, and the unity of the nation consequently impaired.
No important addition was made during this period to the religious knowledge of the people. There was no new revelation of the Messiah, except in so far as the several deliverers who were raised up foreshadowed the Great Deliverer. The ceremonial law of Moses was probably in full operation during the periods of religious faithfulness. The great lesson regarding sin—its hatefulness in God’s eyes, and the certainty of its punishment—was continually renewed by the events of providence.
Those who really felt the evil of sin would see in the sacrifices that were constantly offered up a proof that God can not accept the sinner unless his sin be atoned for through the shedding of blood. But even pious men had not very clear ideas of the way of acceptance with God. A humble sense of their own unworthiness, the spirit of trust in God’s undeserved mercy for pardon, and a steady, prayerful endeavor to do all that was right in God’s sight, were the great elements of true piety in those days. There was great occasion for the exercise of high trust in God, both in believing that prosperity would always follow the doing of his will, and in daring great achievements, like those of Barak and Gideon, under the firm conviction that he would crown them with success.
But in a religious point of view this period was a very checkered one; sometimes one state of things prevailed, sometimes another. The people showed a constant inclination to forsake the pure worship of the true God, and fall into the idolatry of their neighbors. The oppressions which those very neighbors inflicted on them, and the wars which ensued, generally produced an antipathy to their religiousand other customs, which lasted for some years; but the old fondness for idolatry returned again and again.
It clearly appears that a pure, spiritual worship is distasteful to the natural heart. Men unconverted do not relish coming into heart-to-heart contact with the unseen God; they are much more partial to a worship conducted through images and symbols: for this reason the Israelites were always falling into idolatry; idolatry led to immorality; and both drew down on them the judgments of their offended God.
[End of Required Reading for January.]
By JOHN ALBEE.
’Twas morn, and o’er my little window ledgeFlew many a wild bird of plumage bright;They sang sweet songs, and left the truest pledgeOf love, of love and truth, by day and night.’Twas afternoon, and through my stately door,In soberer dress, stepped the too tame birds,Calling our former themes so vain and poor,Twittering now in philosophic words.It is night now; life, love, and thought are done;What is it comes and sets my heart aglow?Of all the wise and learned tongues not one—Only the foolish songs of long ago.—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
’Twas morn, and o’er my little window ledgeFlew many a wild bird of plumage bright;They sang sweet songs, and left the truest pledgeOf love, of love and truth, by day and night.’Twas afternoon, and through my stately door,In soberer dress, stepped the too tame birds,Calling our former themes so vain and poor,Twittering now in philosophic words.It is night now; life, love, and thought are done;What is it comes and sets my heart aglow?Of all the wise and learned tongues not one—Only the foolish songs of long ago.—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
’Twas morn, and o’er my little window ledgeFlew many a wild bird of plumage bright;They sang sweet songs, and left the truest pledgeOf love, of love and truth, by day and night.
’Twas morn, and o’er my little window ledge
Flew many a wild bird of plumage bright;
They sang sweet songs, and left the truest pledge
Of love, of love and truth, by day and night.
’Twas afternoon, and through my stately door,In soberer dress, stepped the too tame birds,Calling our former themes so vain and poor,Twittering now in philosophic words.
’Twas afternoon, and through my stately door,
In soberer dress, stepped the too tame birds,
Calling our former themes so vain and poor,
Twittering now in philosophic words.
It is night now; life, love, and thought are done;What is it comes and sets my heart aglow?Of all the wise and learned tongues not one—Only the foolish songs of long ago.—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
It is night now; life, love, and thought are done;
What is it comes and sets my heart aglow?
Of all the wise and learned tongues not one—
Only the foolish songs of long ago.
—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
By BENJAMIN R. BULKELEY.
Once life was joy, not joyous service done—Quick days of selfish rapture, broad, not deep;The world was like a picture, and the sunRose for the gilding of a dreamy sleep.
Once life was joy, not joyous service done—Quick days of selfish rapture, broad, not deep;The world was like a picture, and the sunRose for the gilding of a dreamy sleep.
Once life was joy, not joyous service done—Quick days of selfish rapture, broad, not deep;The world was like a picture, and the sunRose for the gilding of a dreamy sleep.
Once life was joy, not joyous service done—
Quick days of selfish rapture, broad, not deep;
The world was like a picture, and the sun
Rose for the gilding of a dreamy sleep.
We woke; and life was labor; naught of gleeWas left, for deepest-rooted toil remained;And as we delved no end was there to see,And suns but glimmered on the dross we gained.
We woke; and life was labor; naught of gleeWas left, for deepest-rooted toil remained;And as we delved no end was there to see,And suns but glimmered on the dross we gained.
We woke; and life was labor; naught of gleeWas left, for deepest-rooted toil remained;And as we delved no end was there to see,And suns but glimmered on the dross we gained.
We woke; and life was labor; naught of glee
Was left, for deepest-rooted toil remained;
And as we delved no end was there to see,
And suns but glimmered on the dross we gained.
But now, or in the perfect time, we knowThe joy returns while labor yet abides;Life’s round and fair, and, delving deep below,We find the joy that early pleasure hides.—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
But now, or in the perfect time, we knowThe joy returns while labor yet abides;Life’s round and fair, and, delving deep below,We find the joy that early pleasure hides.—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
But now, or in the perfect time, we knowThe joy returns while labor yet abides;Life’s round and fair, and, delving deep below,We find the joy that early pleasure hides.—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
But now, or in the perfect time, we know
The joy returns while labor yet abides;
Life’s round and fair, and, delving deep below,
We find the joy that early pleasure hides.
—The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.
There is now no branch of outdoor education of greater importance than that of an ability to “handle the ribbons.” Not a man or woman but would be ashamed to say that they were incompetent, if in fair health and strength, to pilot their own carriage. And yet, though so large a proportion of society can boast a smattering of the science, there is no pursuit in which perfection is proportionately so rarely attained.
The first requisite for a tyro is to learn to sit well, and so to acquire the proper scope for his own power over his horse.
The seat should be above, or at least on a level, with the horses’ heads, not below them; and it should, moreover, be so placed that the driver can use his legs and feet to restrain the pull of the horses if necessary, and that can not be done if the reins pull down over the splash-board into the driver’s lap.
Though most tyros begin their essay with a horse in a single harness, yet in a general way it is easier and safer to drive a pair than one. If the single horse is perfect in manners, all that has to be learned is to keep him straight, and to direct him without collision. But if a horse has faults he is safer with a companion; though if the two have coincident faults, or could confabulate mischief together, they would be more dangerous than a single animal, yet it is in practice long chances against the two both doing wrong simultaneously. Each is a check on his fellow: the one may not want to bolt when the other does, or if one falls the other will probably keep his legs.
The tyro should take his seat uprightly and squarely, plant his feet well in front of him, grasp his reins firmly, and let his left arm play lightly from theshoulder(not the elbow), his elbows both well squared. Nothing looks so slovenly, or entails such waste of necessary power, as a slouching back, and hands sunk in the lap.
The whip should not always be used because it is handy; it is wanted to make a horse take hold of his collar if he shirks, and to feel his bit if he hangs back when there is difficulty in navigation. Unless he runs up to his bit there is little or no communication between him and his driver. The whip should be used from the wrist, not from the arm; a lash delivered from the shoulder is far less effective and much more ugly than a stroke from the wrist. A good fly-fisher never makes a bad whip in this respect.
Let the beginner commence by casting an eye over his harness; at first, rather that he may learn by inspection the place for everything and that everything is in its place; but later, when he has passed his apprenticeship, he should still do the same, and this time with a master’s eye, to see that nothing is wanting before he mounts to his seat. Let him note that the breeching, if in single harness, is neither so loose as to be useless, nor so tight as to hamper the action of the horse and to rub the hair off. Let him see that the rein is on the proper bar of the bit; else, if the horse has been accustomed to be driven from one bar, and his bitting is suddenly altered, his manners will probably change at the same time. If he is driving double harness, let him note the length of his traces, and see that his horses are properly “poled up,” else the carriage will overrun them down hill.
Having cast a careful glance round his harness, the driver will then proceed to mount.
Let him take the reins in his hand before he mounts the box, then, when seated, let the “near” or left hand rein pass between the forefinger and thumb, the “off” or right-hand rein between the fore and middle fingers—palm of the hand uppermost. Then let the grasp of all the fingers close tightly on the loop of the rein, which should pass out under the remaining fingers. Though the grasp should be tightthe touch should be light; let not the exercise of the muscles of grip confuse the driver into adding to this a tug from his shoulder upon his horse’s mouth. However light a horse’s mouth is, or supposing he is a slug, that does not take his collar and run up to his bit, still the driver should alwaysfeelthe mouth, else he has no control over him in sudden emergency if the reins are hanging loosely. There is more danger in driving a sluggish or dead-mouthed horse in a crowd than a free goer. The latter runs up to his bit at once, and so feels your orders; the slug does not feel, and may interpret a touch of the reins to direct him into an order to stop in the teeth of a Pickford’s van, or on a level railway crossing in sight of an express. Whipcord must keep a slug to his collar, and so to his bit, or the absence of constant communication between his mouth and his driver’s hand may lead to collisions.
And now in the seat, and the grasp of the reins first secured, let the tyro make a start; not in a hurry, not with an instant dose of whipcord—a word of encouragement to his horse should suffice at first. Let him learn to allow free room for his own wheels in turning corners or passing obstacles: he has got two things to provide for, his vehicle as well as the horse. Better give a wide margin at first than collide; though before long his eye will guide him, and he need not then make himself conspicuous as a greenhorn by giving too wide berths at corners and rencontres. Go steadily round a corner; remember there is such a thing as centrifugal force; and a two-wheel vehicle, high hung, may easily be upset to the outside by a hasty whisk round a sharp corner, even without the help of a bank to lift the inner wheel.
Then, as to the rule of the road. If he meets anything coming the opposite way, he must take it on his right hand; if he overtakes it, on his left; if he is overtaken he must keep to the left, and be passed on the right.
“The role of the road is a paradox quite,For if you go right you go wrong, and if you go left you go right.”
“The role of the road is a paradox quite,For if you go right you go wrong, and if you go left you go right.”
“The role of the road is a paradox quite,For if you go right you go wrong, and if you go left you go right.”
“The role of the road is a paradox quite,
For if you go right you go wrong, and if you go left you go right.”
Down hill he should progress carefully, especially when on two wheels, for then the extra weight of the cart hangs on the pad or saddle on the horse’s back. A stumble and fall will probably break the shafts, certainly cut the horse’s knees, and may pitch the occupant over the splash-board. Let him hold well in, sit well back, play firmly and lightly with his hand, ready to hold up sharply in event of a stumble. Even a sure-footed horse may make a false step from the pain of a loose, sharp-pointed bit of stone cutting his frog. A judicious and timely support from the rein may save the horse and preserve his balance, by thus suddenly shifting part of the weight of his head and neck on to the carriage itself.
Next to a powerful seat, the mouth of the horse and the lightness of the hand upon it are the requisites. “Half the value of a horse is in his mouth” is an old maxim. Few owners are aware how much “manners” depend upon the bitting and handling of a horse. Shifting the rein from one bar to another makes all the difference in the going of the horse. The mouth is the link of communication between him and his driver; the bit must control him without fretting him, and the touch of the hand, unless light, deadens its own injunctions.
As the whip progresses in his craft, he will note many other minor details, apart from mere safety, which conduce to the welfare of his horse and carriage also. Though he is bound by rules of road at rencontre, he may choose his own path when all is clear; he need not take his share of rolling into shape newly-laid stones, if a smoother passage presents itself. Even if he can not altogether avoid stones, he may yet ease the draught if he can manœuvre only one wheel on to a smooth surface.—Cassell’sSports and Pastimes.
By W. T. HARRIS.
We often hear in our time the fear expressed that there is a danger in too much education, and especially in a too great extension of free education at the expense of tax-payers. “Where shall society obtain its hewers of wood and its drawers of water?” is asked in an anxious tone. “Education renders people unwilling to earn their living by hand labor alone, and they resort to crime rather than work at an honest trade.” Investigation, however, does not confirm these fears. We find, upon studying social science, that those states of the world that enforce universal education are by far the greatest wealth producers and accumulators of wealth.
The statistics of the seventeen states in our nation (the seventeen that kept statistics of illiteracy in jails and prisons in 1870), show that out of a total of 110,538 prisoners, 27,581, or 25 per cent. could not write, while only 3½ per cent. of the adults of those seventeen states were illiterate—that 3½ per cent. of the population, if illiterate, furnish as many criminals as 32 per cent. of the people, if able to read and write—or that the one who can not read and write is nine times as liable to get to prison as the one who can read and write. Of course we must remember that the education of the school is powerfully reinforced by the education of the family, the community, the State, and the Church, and that the school is not the only educational influence, nor the most potent one. We must not place a too high estimate on the phase of civilization that merely keeps men out of prison. Chinese education does that, although it does not produce scientific thinkers, a literature of freedom, or a people that worship the true God, or any god that allows man to participate in his being.
We shall learn this lesson again in studying the caste education of India. The duties of each person to members of his own caste and then to the members of the other castes form the chief staple of Hindoo education. There the hewers of wood and the drawers of water are effectually provided for, first by birth and then by education.
If we desire to behold the effects of caste-education made supreme over all others, we must look carefully into East Indian life, and interpret it by its laws, religion, and philosophy. The division of labor is necessary in order that men may gain the requisite skill to conquer nature. Food, clothing, and shelter are rendered necessary by nature—that is to say, by our bodies—and can be supplied only by nature—the mineral, vegetable, and animal realms. Besides food, clothing, and shelter, there is the fourth want, that of culture or spiritual direction, and the fifth want, or that of protection,—the realm of religious and scientific education, and the realm of the political government.
In India one caste is devoted to spiritual direction—the Brahmin, which reads and interprets the Vedas and gives counsel to the rulers of the state. Next is the Kshatrya, or warrior caste, that manage the secular or political government, with the counsel and advice of the Brahmins. Then the food, clothing, and shelter providers, who devote themselves to agriculture and the arts and trades of commerce, form a third caste, the Vaisyas; and lastly is the Sudra caste, which consists of day-laborers, or servants. The caste is determined by birth, not by the free choice of the individual, but by an accident of nature. For the East Indian the division of labor is the great divine fact of life. Brahma, the highest god, created the caste of Brahmins from his head, the warriors from his arms, the trades peoples from his loins, and the servants from his feet. Manu says that the first part of the name of a Brahmin ought toexpress sanctity; of a warrior power; of a merchant wealth; of a laborer contempt. The second part of the Brahmin’s name should express blessing; of a warrior protection; of a merchant means of subsistence; of a Sudra menial servitude.
Caste being of divine origin and imposed upon man, how shall it be preserved and transmitted? The answer is a perpetual education in the duties of one’s caste and in the abnegation of all that looks toward the recognition of identity of human nature and the equality of all in the substance of manhood. The greatest possible care is taken not to educate children beyond the position into which they are born and which has been occupied by their ancestors (if they belong to one of the regular castes). By marriage other castes are produced. The Hindoo must have for his first wife one of his own caste, and then he may take one more from each caste below him. Thus the Brahmin may have four wives, three being from the lower castes; the warrior may have three wives and the merchant two, while the Sudra can have only one. The children of the wives from the lower castes are classified according to a scheme invented by one of the kings, and there are more than thirty castes in all. The chandalas have for their vocation the removal of corpses, the execution of criminals, and such impure offices. General duties, common to all castes, are very few.
What is a virtue in one caste may be a sin in another. The duties are prescribed with such minuteness that a very complex system arises for each person, which must be obeyed in its smallest particular, under penalty of excommunication from one’s caste. The observances and formalities are more numerous with the higher castes. Hence even for the Brahmin, who is as a god to the other castes there is such a weight of formalities and observances that life is not worth living for him. He must perform tedious ceremonies of purification to remove the effect of the most casual accidents. Should he walk abroad and meet one of a lower caste, he must turn back and purify himself. If he should step over a rope to which a calf is tied, he must purify himself. If he should happen to look up and see the sun when setting, or at any time see it reflected in the water, he must purify himself. If he should chance to go out and get caught in a shower, he must purify himself; and so, too, if he happens to step on the wrong foot when he rises from bed. He must not look at his wife when she sneezes or gapes or eats. He must not step on a cotton seed, on a piece of broken crockery, or on ashes. When out in the sun he must look northward; when under the stars, southward; only when under a tree or a roof he may look in any direction. If he should fail to purify himself he will be excommunicated from his caste, and can be restored only by a painful ceremony.
The first, second, and third castes are of the twice-born, and they may hear the Vedas, but the Sudras must not read, nor hear read, those holy books. Burning hot oil poured into his ears was the penalty for breaking this law. If the Sudra were to speak evil of a Brahmin or warrior or merchant, the code of Manu decrees that a red-hot iron bar shall be thrust into his mouth.
There is more respect shown toward cows than toward the lowest caste of human beings. In fact, the Hindoo will not tread upon ants nor kill brute animals, but founds hospitals for sick or aged cows and monkeys, while he is entirely indifferent to the sufferings of a man from a lower caste.
The women, even of the highest caste, are treated like lower castes in spiritual things,—no woman is allowed to read the Vedas or to become learned. The children of whatever caste, too, may be sacrificed to the deities by their parents. A mother may throw her child, especially if it be a girl, into the Ganges, or any sacred river. The women are excluded from education, and are given in marriage in their seventh or eighth year. A woman who is discovered to possess a knowledge of reading and writing draws down upon her head the most severe condemnation. There is one exception to this in the dancing girls, and the bayaderes, who are purchased from poor parents for service at the temples. These are taught by the priests reading and writing, music, dancing, and singing, as well as the female arts of coquetry. They are dedicated to the gods, and do not learn housework.
Although the warrior caste and merchant caste may read the Vedas, they must do it under the supervision of the Brahmins.
Elementary instruction to the regenerated, or twice born, includes reading, writing, and arithmetic. The children learn to form letters on the sand first, and afterward on palm leaves with an iron pencil; at last with ink on plantain leaves. The monitorial system is practiced—one child hearing the other recite his lesson and assisting him to learn it. The Brahmin’s children are in all cases treated with partiality.
The chief branch of study in school is, of course, the Vedas, or holy books. This exercise must be approached with due ceremony—of girding with bands, purification, consecrated fires, and solemn ceremonies performed morning, noon, and night. The pupil must seize his teacher’s feet before he begins, and then read with clasped hands, and at the close of his reading again seize his master’s feet. This ceremony of greeting his teacher he performs by crossing his hands and taking his master’s right foot in his right hand and the left foot in his left hand.
Pupils generally reside with their teachers—in a sort of boarding-school—each teacher having the care of ten or twelve pupils. A very strict surveillance is kept up.
“Without his teacher the pupil must not enter a house nor look to the right or left, but bend his look to the ground as he follows behind his teacher.” “When reading the holy scriptures one must not cough nor take any food or drink. In blowing the nose one must not make too much noise—nor spit in a clean place—nor offer tea with his hand—he must hold his arm-sleeve before his mouth when he gapes—he must not smack his lips when he eats nor scratch his head.” Such directions are found in the educational code. We often find sublime moral duties intermingled with trivial details of ceremonial. If the pupil does not say “Om” on beginning and ending his reading of the Vedas, the exercise will do him no good.
The moral maxims are taught in the form of fables. The book used is what we know as the Fables of Bidpai (“Friend of Science”) from an Indian work, which was rewritten as theHitopadesa(“Friendly Advice”) some centuries ago. It contains profound ethical wisdom, mixed with some things whimsical and absurd. Proverbs are quoted at every turn, being strung on the thread of the fable, like glittering stones on a necklace.
The instruction of the Brahmin’s son extended to the philosophic doctrines of Hindoo pantheism. To understand the nature of this pantheism is most important. There is Brahm—above all the individual gods. Brahm expresses pure abstraction from all distinctions—merely to think it is to become unconscious of all things. Brahma is the personification of that substance (Brahm) as the creator, Vishnu as the preserver, and Siva as the destroyer. Below these high gods there are terrestrial ones presided over by Indra, the Hindoo Jupiter, ruler of the sky. Creation is not an act of the will of deity, but a sort of emanation “like the growth of plants from seed or the hair from the head.” The world proceeds from nothingness, growing out of Brahma, and returns into nothingness—it is all an illusion, a sort of dream, which the Hindoo calls “Maya.” Brahmis the substance of all the gods, and of the beings of the world, and hence all their differences vanish to the Brahmin, who meditates long enough to reach the idea of Brahm. Hence the highest aim of education is to reach this annihilation of all distinction—passing beyond all the gods, even to Brahm.
The Sankhya philosophy expresses this doctrine of annihilation of all particular things and beings through reflection: “So through the study of principles the conclusive, incontrovertible, one only knowledge, is attained, that neither I am nor is aught mine, nor do I exist.”
One must not suppose that the Hindoo education is so complete that the lower castes remain without aspiration. They learn by degrees in what rests the power of the Brahmin to ascend above the gods by the exercise of meditation and abstraction. This is taught in the Bhagavad Gita—even a Sudra can by meditation come to Brahm.[H]The lower castes may become partakers of the divine life through regeneration—“immense self-denial, torture and penance” are requisite. They become “yogis,” and undertake some painful exercise, such as standing for twelve years without once lying down, then clasping the hands over the head for another twelve years; then a third grade by standing between four fires and the tropical sun, afterward swinging backward and forward over a fire for nearly four hours; lastly, if life is not extinct, being buried alive for the same length of time. If he lives still, the devotee has now become a Brahmin.
From the bondage of caste there is therefore one possible escape—through self-torture and penance,—but the remedy is as bad as the disease. It was Buddha who taught a doctrine that furnished a real relief from all this in the utter abolition of the caste system. Driven out of India, this doctrine spread throughout Ceylon, Farther India, China, Thibet, and among the Tartars of Siberia, and to this day numbers more human beings in its faith than any other form of religion. It gives all families a chance to ascend to the highest state of religious culture.
Buddhistic emancipation is from the rigid bonds of family as well as from caste. Any family having four sons must devote one to a monastic life. This demands the renunciation of all personal wishes and longings—all desires, all pride, and anger, and stubbornness; then the devotee reaches Nirvana and all will and consciousness have sunk into the rest and quiet of non-existence, and are purified of all finitude and special existence. In Nirvana ceases all change—no more beginning and ending—no more birth and death—perfect rest.
In the catechism of Chinese Buddhism there are ten duties prescribed: (1) Slay no living being; (2) steal not; (3) be chaste; (4) speak nothing wrong; (5) drink nothing intoxicating—these are also found in primitive Buddhism—another five duties are added relating to external rules of the order: (6) Do not perfume the hair on the top of the head, nor paint the body; (7) do not listen to songs nor attend the theater; (8) do not sit or lie on a large cushion or pillow; (9) do not eat except at meal-time; (10) do not own gold or silver, or anything of value as private property. The ideal is that of mendicancy—pious beggary.
Its ideal of the divine is no higher than that of India. God is conceived, not as a personal being having consciousness and will and love (our Christian conception), but rather as a being above personality and consciousness (the Hindoo conception). Hence the Buddhist still strives for the annihilation or extinction of his conscious individuality, just as the Indian devotee, but without those frightful penances, and without cruel laws of caste.
We can not commend the views of those who find in Buddhism, as portrayed in the “Light of Asia,” a doctrine almost or quite equal to Christianity. To us it seems to be infinitely below Christianity. Its conception of God and of God’s creation is just the opposite of the Christian conception, for in Christianity we believe God to be a personal being, who reveals himself in nature and man, and even becomes human in his Son, and dies on a cross out of love for the human race. Man can grow forever into the image of God, realizing that image in his will, his love, his intellect, because God is all there in an infinite degree, while to the Buddhist God is none of these but a being who is the negative of nature and of man too. Hence the education of Brahminism and Buddhism is based on an idea radically opposed to our own.