Изображения страниц

convicting power in other minds, as we arouse them to attention to its workings or stir them up to earnest and unqualified desire or prayer for it. God (or the Spirit fountain) is the only source of truth and good, and the truth that pertains to our spiritual nature, and on which morality rests, comes only from within, out—and not as intellectual knowledge from out, within—it is in this sense that God is a teacher of His people Himself, as distinguished from the prophets and preachers of His law; they do not and cannot know this law except first they have been convicted of its truth by the Inner Light or Spirit of God operating on their spiritual natures and bringing it to their consciousness. Hence, as I understand it, the Inner Light practically creates for us knowledge of right or wrong, and conscience indicates our obedience or disobedience to what we believe to be duty, and will change its action just as our convictions change. Animals below man may have conscience and feel condemnation for doing what they have been taught was wrong. Obedience to the “Christ Within ’’ regenerates our nature and changes our motives of action. Obedience to conscience keeps us from all changes until some other power gives us another law than the one we were conscientiously keeping. It has been said a man may be moral without being a Christian, but not a Christian without being moral; in like manner we may say a man may be conscientious without being right, but never right without being conscientious ; hence it is incumbent on us to obey carefully all of our convictions of duty, as this keeps us to the highest standard we have received ; then earnestly seek for light and truth and our conscience will keep pace with our growth and keep us up to the advancing standard. J. W. P.


To William Penn belongs the distinction, destined to brighten as men advance in virtue, of first in human history establishing the Law of Love as a rule of conduct in intercourse of nations. He declined the superfluous protection of arms against Foreign Force, and “aimed to reduce the savage nations by just and gentle manners, to the love of civil society and the Christian religion.” His serene countenance, as he stands, with his followers, all unarmed, beneath the spreading elm, forming the great treaty of friendship with the untutored Indians, who fill with savage display the surrounding forest as far as the eye can reach, not to wrest their lands by violence, but to obtain them by peaceful purchase, is to my mind the proudest picture in the history of our country. “The great God,” said the illustrious Quaker, “has written his law in our hearts by which we are taught and commanded to love, and to help, and to do good one to another. It is not our custom to use hostile weapons against our fellow creatures, for which reason we have come unarmed. Our object is not to do injury, but to do good. We have, then, met in the broad pathway of good faith and goodwill, so that no advantage can be taken on either side, but all is to be openness, brotherhood and love, while all are to be treated as of the same flesh and

blood.” These are words of True Greatness. The flowers of prosperity smile in the blessed footprints of William Penn. His people were unmolested and happy, while, sad contrast, those of other colonies, acting upon the policy of the world, building forts, and showing themselves in arms not after receiving provocation, but merely in anticipation, or from fear of danger, were harassed by perpetual alarm, and pierced by the sharp arrows of savage war. This pattern of a Christian commonwealth never fails to arrest the admiration of all who contemplate its beauties.—Charles Summer.

For Friends' Intelligencer.


The tree is to be judged by its fruit. That the Society of Friends is not now in a condition to assert itself and effectually impress its peculiar principles upon the world is plain enough from the simple fact that it does not do so. Originally its influence was potent and far reaching out of all proportion to the numbers of its members. Even then it was comparatively only a little flock, but such was its strength and individuality and the force with which it set forth its principles, that its advent may be said to commence a new epoch in the history of civilization. The wail of tradition and superstition that had for ages enveloped the Christian church, obscuring the truly Catholic character thereof, was torn away, and the universal brotherhood of man was proclaimed with a power that palsied the arm of tyranny and secured new symmetry and blessings to future em


p To-day its membership still constitutes, what, as a thoroughly united band, would be abundantly sufficient to make its testimonies heard and felt, even to the very ends of the earth, but its influence has so utterly passed away that it is generally regarded by those around us, as being in the last stages of dissolution. And it is evident that this is not, as some seem to think, to be altogether charged to lukewarmness and indifference, for there is amongst us a prevalence of righteous desire and keen interest that nothing but the rankest injustice can ignore. The body is indeed exceeding sick, but there is no lack of physicians ready and eager to help prepare a remedy. But the great trouble seems to be that the disease is regarded from so many and various standpoints that there are scarcely two prescriptions alike and each physician casting his supposed specific into the common receptacle, the medicine has become an aggregation of such unassimilated constituents, that, instead of being a curative, the functions of the patient seem in eminent danger of being brought to a speedy termination by the distracting force of the incongruous mixture.

The one important thing which seems to be generally overlooked is that the healthfulness of the body is only to be found in the harmonious action and perfect co-operation of the various members thereof. And each of these members being directly responsible for acting up to his own convictions of right, and prohibited by every essential of his well being from placing his judgment in subservience to the dictation or authority of any other man, or body of men, genuine harmony and perfection of co-operation—the healthful action of the body—can extend no further than the members are united as to their convictions and their judgment. It must ever be remembered that the strength of the body is as the strength of its members, and as the strength of each member is dependent entirely on his fulfilling and bearing witness to his own convictions of right, it is plain that if the body should by any means either constrain or persuade a member to become a party to what his judgment condemns, or even to what he is not clearly convinced is right, it paralyzes his usefulness as a member and plants the seeds of destruction within itself. A happy day will it be for this People and for the Nations when our members, recognizing this most important fact, shall see the necessity of searching our own house as with a lighted candle to shut out everything that has a tendency to scatter and to divide; that, that dumb, dead idol called “submission to the prevailing judgment,” may be replaced by the mighty power of heartfelt and aggressive unity; that our testimonies may be proclaimed as with a voice through a trumpet having no uncertain sound, and the banner of righteousness again raised aloft, with its inscriptions shining forth in their pristine purity, perspicuity, and grandeur, to be carried forward by an unwavering hand to conflict and to victory.

I. W. G.



On Seventh-day, the 21st ult, the second meeting of teachers and those interested in education was held in the lecture-room at Fifteenth and Race streets. Emily G. Hunt gave a class lesson upon the clam and oyster. Twenty-four small pans were placed upon the tables containing a clam and an oyster alternately. The pans were half full of water and in each was a loaded cork to which the specimens might be pinned if necessary. One valve had been removed from each shell, and the teachers were invited to make rough dissections of the animals by the aid of instruments provided for that purpose. They were guided in their search for the parts by rough drawings of the clam and oyster, much enlarged, placed side by side upon the blackboard in colored chalks.

The different shape of the two mollusks as they lay in their shells was first noted, and the mantle lining the shell and forming a loose, two-lipped bag. This secretes the shell. The large, central muscle which attaches the oyster to the shell was noticed, also the two which serve the same purpose in the clam. These furnish the means for opening and shutting the shell.

The gills in the oyster next attracted attention; four delicate, lined plates; lying upon one side of the fleshy body. These were compared with similar organs in the clam, of a different shape, and situated two upon each side of the soft, abdominal portion. At the anterior end of the gills, or in that part of the body toward which the beak or pointed end of the shell is directed, were seen the mouth palps, also four in number, broad and round in the oyster, long and slender in the clam. Between these is the mouth

[ocr errors]

which being defenceless, proves that these mollusks “come of a gentle kind.” The clam gains its slight locomotive power by its digging foot, which, in these disturbed specimens, was retracted between the gills, but, in a state of nature may protrude far beyond the shell. At the posterior end of the body a black spot was noticed. This could be resolved into two tubes, the syphon; these are stretched up to the surface of the sand and are immediately below the little holes seen upon the beach. Down one tube flows the pure water and out of the other that which has been deoxygenated. The foot and syphon are absent in the oyster, consequently it is non-locomotive, and if buried below the sand, dies. This is one reason why dredging oyster-beds is so destructive. If there is any chance that the specimens are alive it is better to observe the heart first of all. In the oyster this is just above the large muscle, and in the clam nearly under the beak. Cut away the delicate membrane covering it, and the pulsations may be easily shown to the class. Through this organ, in the clam, passes the intestine, to end in the ex-current or upper syphon tube. In the oyster the termination is near the large muscle. The class then cut into the abdominal portion, and saw the large, brown liver, the stomach, intestine and ovaries. There are other points in the anatomy of the clam and oyster which may be shown to a class, but this much was given, not as new or original, but because these types are common and full of interest. Some familiar relations of these mollusks were shown ; pearl oyster shells, those of the salt and the fresh water mussels, of the pecten and the razor; also the great enemy of the oyster planter, the star-fish. |Under a microscope was a specimen of embryo oysters, showing that in extreme youth the valves of the shell are equal, and resemble those of the clam. Under a second instrument could be seems the action of the minute cilia upon the gills, which sweep the food to the mouth. To those interested in this subject Professor Hyatt's pamphlet entitled “The Oyster, Clam and other Common Mollusks,” is recommended, published in Boston by Ginn & Heath. From an economic standpoint, though not exclusively so, “Oyster Culture,” by Ernest Ingersoll, published by our government, is excellent. May Haggenbotham, formerly a teacher of Friends’ Central School, now Assistant Superintendent of the Public Schools of Philadelphia, spoke on Primary Education, as follows: The educational movement of the present time is a tennaissance. “The great truths of the new education are ringing in the air,” eager to benefit the community for whom they are intended. After sixteen months' experience in the supervision of the work of the public schools of our city, the speaker found herself standing before the profound depths of the subject, an eager questioner, ready to act with the light which her short but intense experience had given. She spoke of the many perplexities and waried experiences met with in expounding new methods to the twenty-one hundred teachers whom she has supervised. An ardent student of methods is not necessarily a

student of the principles that underlie those methods. His resources may be drawn from a reservoir, and not from a spring. When meeting with the teachers of the public schools, it was found easy to arouse an enthusiasm. Faces brightened when the talks and illustrations began, showing a desire on the part of the teachers to elevate their standard of work. Why, then, have so many failed in these methods, which have seemed so good? In answer, the question arises, Do you understand the principles underlying the methods? Teachers dealing with mind know very little about mind. Their failures are largely due to a neglect to study the science of teaching, the underlying principles. They do not think to study the pupils and themselves. A teacher should be as great a student in his profession as is a doctor or a lawyer in his. Nothing influences character like character. Our teachers fail because they have not a practical taleal of their work. To one possessing a realization of a teacher's true work, the little things of a schoolroom assume a proper importance. Small things are no longer petty. The personal neatness of pupils, attractive surroundings, as well as moral training, should take high rank among a teacher's cares. A teacher with a practical ideal, an earnest purpose, is a living and prolific source of expedients with which to meet varied circumstances. He is able to give proportional attention to the parts of his work. The questions should arise, What are you doing this for? What is it leading to ? Too many are the slaves of tradition. A new method or a new subject must elbow its way into the school as best it can, if enter it must. Another reason for a teacher's maintaining a practical ideal is because it sustains and animates her under mueh that is depressing. A teacher is denied the usual sources of hope. She is always producing, never attaining a finished product. Her pupils are constantly passing on, making room for others to follow over the same ground of labor. Is it any wonder, then, if a teacher grows depressed, often hopeless, frequently degenerating into a pessimist? What shall be the practical ideal 2 What is it our business to do for the child 2 In most cases, with our public school children, it is necessary that the child shall be trained in such way that it may gain a livelihood in later years; it must be supplied with intellectual food in the form of facts; it must be taught moral precepts, and the duties which life in a community forces upon all. It is necessary that the mind shall be formed as well as informed. The primary teacher's duty is to promote good habits of intellect and will; in fact all that is included in the growth of mind and character. His work must have a value both as knowledge and as discipline. Education is a generation of power. To produce in the pupils good habits of intellect and will the teacher must have a knowledge of the mind. He should also possess a knowledge of psychology and of ethics, in order to fulfill his part well. Every teacher should philosophize. With a high ideal in view, and an earnest effort to master the difficulties that will be encountered, he

| here, however, must the work rest.

meets with many restrictions that defeat his highest 8,1DslS. A child’s habits are frequently determined before it reaches the primary school, often before entering the Kindergarten. The lecturer asserted she had known children of six years who were old in sin. Other restrictions to be met with are the demands of fashion for those studies which are ornamental rather than useful; then parents are content to do the reasoning for the children, instead of requiring them to think for themselves. Again, irregular attendance in school, the short duration of school life, large classes, and false ideas of social life, are all serious restrictions to be borne in mind in estimating a teacher's work. But let each one do herself justice; all that can be hoped for is to accomplish some good. The lecturer now referred to the studies which train the senses. These remarks were necessarily brief, and the teachers were congratulated upon having Prof. Brooks to dwell more particularly upon the philosophy of the mind. Perception is the primal source of knowledge, but there is no enduring knowledge of things gained by dependence on the senses alone; a training of the memory and reasoning powers must supplement the first. The early period of a child's life is most favorable for training the memory; the plastic age is from six to twelve years. * Again, the lecturer remarked that she would give nothing for the study of methods without a study of principles. The cardinal doctrine of the new education is, “Knowledge has to do with things.” Not Words must have their place. The language training of a child cultivates memory. In the public schools, language lessons may precede reading. Reading and spelling are truly a part of language training. Knowledge comes through the senses. Pictures and objects may therefore be used as foundation for language lessons. Every teacher should be a good story-teller, and should be capable of selecting good stories to read to her pupils, that they may reproduce them from memory: This work trains the memory and attention. Pictures, objects and stories have been the means of producing a marvelous change in the public schools. The lecturer displayed many pictures which had been prepared for the use of the children. Most of these were figure subjects which would attract and interest the children, and about which they could find many things to say. Teachers were cautioned to go slowly; let a child find out for himself; do not tell him about the picture. In this way, his power of observation will be trained and his imagination exercised. For this purpose colored pictures are preferable. Specimen compositions were read, which had been produced in the fourth grade of primary school by children of eight or nine years of age. A little story of The Pet Lamb had been read to the children, and they had reproduced it from memory, spelling words with care, and using capital letters and periods correctly.

Another story was read, about Frederick the Great and his Page, the composition produced from which proved that the children had not grasped the ideas. They did not comprehend the terms Frederick the Great, and Page. It was claimed that this was not a good story. It should not be necessary to explain the story to the pupils. Another story, of Old Tom and the Eagle, was beautifully reproduced, and again seriously maimed, by pupils of about eleven years, in eighth grade secondary school. In a familiar talk, a question was asked the children about the size of an eagle. Some boys had given quite good descriptions of the size of the bird, but no girl could answer the question. The boys had used their eyes at the Zoëlogical Garden. Improving exercises had resulted in writing answers to the questions, “Do you like a rainy day?” “Why?” “How does the sky look at night?” Questions were given in regard to the appearances of nature. Talks with the children improve them. They may be incited to see and look. It is a significant fact that the spelling book has been eliminated from the primary public schools. The routine work is abridged, while the mind is being trained to think instead of merely to memoI’l Zē. Good work in the primary schools is largely in the majority, while in the secondary it is in the minority. The lecture was closed by the forceful remarks that “teachers do not owe life and soul to their profession,” “the life must have a circumference as well as a centre.”


MY MIND has been turned to reflect upon “the proposed changes in our Discipline,” that are expected to come before our approaching Quarterly Meeting, and if thought worthy of consideration, I am willing to offer the following suggestions in this very important movement: There are three elements interested therein, composing, as they do, the young, the middle aged, and elderly members of our Society. Presuming each to be concerned in its result to “the body or Church,” there are those who may feel they have borne the burden of the day, and are thus entitled by greater experience to decide how and what should be done in the premises, whilst the middle aged and young may contend that they, in the natural course of events, will be the longer subjected to such changes as are sought for, and are also entitled to be heard, and their opinions received with proper consideration. Now, in order that these views may be the more fairly and fully set forth, let us suppose two facts to exist, namely, the rapidly declining numbers of our Society, and the great changes in our general surroundings (social and otherwise) that have taken place since our present Discipline was adopted, and whilst we may differ in the expression of our views, I incline to the belief of sincerity in each. Then, if the facts are as above stated, may it not be found “wiser and safer” for the good of all concerned, to consider, each for himself, whether all cannot unite

in the propriety of calmly and dispassionately weighing them and acting upon them, and to seek a spirit of love and forbearance one unto the other, so that we may be enabled to yield to a brother that which we would ask for ourselves, thus doing unto others as we would be done by, in the endeavor that harmonious action may thus be reached. OLIVER EVANs. Philadelphia, Third mo. 2d, 1885.

IN my communication with regard to the burning of the Chappaqua Mountain Institute, printed in last week’s Friends’ Intelligencer, I am made to say “Mr. Collins,” instead of “S. C. Collins,” as it was written. The Managers of the Institute have secured the W. G. Lambert place, which is very pleasantly situated about half a mile from the former location, with sufficient accommodation for the School, which they expect to re open on the 10th inst. Respectfully,


Chappaqua, Third mo. 3d, 1885.


IN the present desire to arouse new life amongst us, I trust we will bear in mind there is still need of the “precious silence” in our meetings. I do not object to the hour being shortened, if the life appears to be spent, and there is no vocal ministry, but I do want us to maintain in true dignity a period of reverential quiet, where we can “commune with our own hearts and be still.” Many who worship in the evangelical churches are coming to value quiet. I have just read in one of their church papers the following, which I enclose for thy perusal. It should encourage us to hold fast to this feature of our mode of worship, though we must not fall into the very grave error of worshiping silence.

“Why is it that the silence is never so oppressive in the peaceful meetings of the Friends, as it is, Say, in the average prayer meeting in those dread intervals of complete silence that sometimes try the nerves of both pastor and people? Perhaps the difference is this, that, in the one case, those present know that they are not expected to speak unless they have a message; while in the other, nearly everybody feels as if somebody else ought to speak, message or no message, for the purpose of breaking the silence. Yet, after all, is silence so dreadful that it is better to speak without having anything to say, than to Wait in reverent stillness before God?”


WHOEVER sets a right value on the events of his life for good or for evil, will agree that next in importance to the rectitude of his own course and the selection of his partner for life, and far beyond all the wealth or honors which may reward his labor, far even beyond the unspeakable gift of bodily health, are the friendships which he forms in youth. That is the season when natures soft and pliant grow together, each becoming part of the other, and colored by it; thus to become one in heart with the good, and generous, and devout, is; by God's grace, to be. come in measure, good and generous and devout.Coleridge.

[ocr errors]



BELIEF AND CHARACTER.—“Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them,” was perhaps one of the strongest declarations in that most beautiful and practical of all sermons, the “Sermon on the Mount.” Yet how slow the religious world has been in coming to give credit for character; for the true life lived out before us, rather than for the absolute correctness of the belief held regarding doctrine. We cannot always command belief, but we can subject our own wills to a divinity within us, that controls our lives in a way that the result can be pronounced good. We may not fully understand this, or be able to acknowledge it in any formulated set of words. We miss much joy in an inability to express this inborn faith, so we should seek to know and understand what God is, and to know His will concerning us and knowing it, try to impart this knowledge to others, especially to our children, that they too may walk in accordance with it.

But in judging others, let us judge them by the fruit their lives yield, and rejoice that there is One infinitely wise, who will judge them righteously when called before His tribunal. This being our faith, we can rest content, trusting our loved ones to His keeping.

But, though slow, the religious world is surely growing broader in this regard. In a recent number of the Christian Union there is placed before us the picture of a bereaved mother, whose beloved son, with a character spotless in its purity, had lost his life in the laudable attempt to save that of a comrade. The grief of this mother is augmented by the uncertainty she feels as to his salvation, for she says, “no one ever tried to lead him to Jesus by personal help.” That is, by the outward expressions she deemed essential for his acceptance with God, though if his character were spotless, there must have been within him a high ideal of goodness implanted there by divinity, and possibly aided by her example, and in striving to attain it, lo l his character became perfected. We quote a portion of the very forcible reply to this mother who so pathetically says:

“I want to know that God will not punish my noble, true-hearted child for his mother's unfaithfulness l’’ What kind of a God do you worship 2 What sort of a God do you believe in 2 What notion of God do you entertain 2 Are you a pagan 2 Is your God a Siva 2 Gr an Ahriman? Is he an infinite inquisitor? a divinely powerful Lord Jeffreys? You clearly do not believe that God is love; do you even believe that he is just? or that it is just to punish the innocent for the sins of the guilty? You need to go back to first principles, to shut up your New Testament, and learn


truth in the world's twilight, from Abraham. “Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?” Oh! it is strange, passing strange, that one must, in this nineteenth century of grace, in the heart of New England, in talking to a Christianly educated mother, go back to the very alphabet of the Christian religion ; ayes of all religion and of all morality. Salvation is character. To be noble and true-hearted is to be saved. The Christian minister is not lost because he makes his home in the slums of New York. Christ was not degraded because he lived a sufferer among sinners. Shall we never learn that circumstance is nothing, and character everything; that sinless suffering is no evil, and sinful joy no good; that to be saved is to be delivered, not from some imagined future prisonhouse, but to be delivered from falsehood and deceit, from wrath and uncharitableness, from ambition and lust, from vanity and weakness, from godlessness and Self-will 2 “He that loveth is born of God :” Whatever in theology obscures that divine declaration is an adumbration from our pagan sensuousness and selfishness. It is not for me to judge your boy. It would not be for me to judge him if he had passed through every ceremonial of every Christian communion, Protestant and Papal, had accepted every article in the longest creed, and had professed what we call his Christian experience to every church official and in every church meeting. “Not every one that saith unto me, Lord | Lord but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.” Life is the only test. Fruit is the only evidence. The fruits of the Spirit are not catechisms and creeds and professions and baptisms and prayings and meetings. They are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, meekness, temperance. There can be no fire without oxygen. Our tests may not show it, but the blaze is demonstration. There can be no noble, true-hearted character without the Spirit of God. Our clumsy tests of creed and ceremonial may not show it, but nobility and truth in the heart are its demonstration.

[merged small][ocr errors]

THE man who has learned to take things as they come, and to let go as they depart, has mastered one of the arts of cheerful and contented living. The fatality of chasing after happiness, and the fatuity of clinging to sorrow, are illustrated on every side. A good many of the disappointments in life come from trying to fly kites after the string has broken, or from looking for gold in the fabled pot at the base of the rainbow. Vision that takes in the far-off and far-up is a compensation for many lacks; but the gift of seeing what is near, and utilizing that which is within reach, is more valuable for every-day use. A great many people are sighing for the measureless opportunities of eternity who don’t know the value of an hour. The boon of a new chance in the other world is craved most by those who have thrown away their chances here. The unreasonableness of human expectations is only equaled by the neglect of human opportunities. Lowell says of Chaucer that he was “the first great poet who treated To-day as if it were as good as Yesterday.” It is an even more admirable thing to treat To-day as if it were better than To-morrow.—Exchange.

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »