Knowledge is Power.

BY THE EDITOR.

The greatest of all forces is moral force. Knowledge is the most powerful when consecrated to Christ. Unsanctified knowledge is a power for evil. Far better had it been for the world if Voltaire and Tom Paine had been unlearned men. Then Paine could not have cursed mankind with the Age of Reason, nor Voltaire turned the laugh of his admirers on that Saviour of sinners, to whom he remorsefully cried in his dying hour. Apart from the religious aspect of this subject, there is a marvellous power in scientific knowledge. Diligent scholars, who strive to learn clearly and well the lessons which they study, whether at school or at home, are learning to wield a power greater than that of royal sceptres. In a day school in Genoa, there once was a certain studious boy, whom his comrades called Christopher Columbus. He hung to his books as a thirsty child presses the cup of cold water to its lips. He needed no urging to learn his lessons thoroughly. Little did his teacher think, as he heard him recite his welllearned lessons in geography, that his studious pupil would one day discover a new world. After four hundred years the continent he discovered has been covered with the most stirring, active nation of modern times. Would the United States be what they are, or be at all, had not little Christopher Columbus learned well his lessons in the Genoese school?

In a certain printing-office in Boston there was a printer's apprentice. All his fragments of leisure he spent in reading. He had but a limited education, such as he procured by a few months' annual study in the ordinary day schools. Owing to a dislike of mathematics he had neglected his arithmetic at school. Later the apprentice repented of his folly, procured the necessary books, and at the age of fourteen mastered without the help of a teacher, the different branches of mathematics, and studied navigation. He read translations of the ancient classics, as well as some of the best modern English authors. At twenty-seven years of age he began the study of the languages, which his pre

vious want of means prevented him from doing. He says: "In 1773 I had begun to study languages. I soon made myself so much a master of the French as to be able to read the books in that language with ease. I then undertook the Italian. An acquaintance who was also learning it, used often to tempt me to play chess with him. Finding that this took up too much of the time I had to spare for study, I at length refused to play any more, unless on this condition-that the victor in every game should have a right to impose a task,, either of parts of the grammar to be got by heart, or in translations, etc., which task the vanquished was to perform upon honor before our next meeting. As we played pretty equally, we thus beat one another into that language. I afterwards, with a little pains-taking, acquired as much of the Spanish as to read their books also. I had only one year's instruction in a Latin school, and that when very young, after which I neglected that language entirely. But when I had attained an acquaintance with the French, Italian and Spanish, I was surprised to find in looking over a Latin Testament, that I understood more of that language than I had imagined, which encouraged me to apply myself to the study of it again, and I met with more success, those preceding languages had greatly smoothed my way."

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By and by the printer became a publisher, an author, a statesman, and an ambassador to foreign Courts. And more than all, he taught mankind to harness the lightning, and make it the fleet-footed bearer of intelligence around the globe. Few people now think of the Boston printer's apprentice, with a thirsting mind poring over his books, acquiring knowledge under difficulties, in connection with the power and incalculable influence of the electric telegraph, which has taught the lightning to flash intelligence over the surface of the earth. In the small, cramped, dingy printing-office, with a few type-cases around him, the studious apprentice, with the help of a dimly-burning tallow candle, hunts for knowledge, till after midnight. While the more favored boys of wealthy parents are snugly asleep in their comfortable beds, or carousing about in places of sin, his

our similar expression owes its origin; and from the same source comes our word "boarder"-one who sits at the board to eat.

The guests and family were summoned by a horn, and after they were seated, the cloth was spread; and about this they were extremely particular, but of what kind of fabric it was made does not so clearly appear. It certainly was not linen, for that was not introduced into England for such use until the reign of Elizabeth. For a long time carpets and pieces of tapestry did service as coverings for tables. The use of a carpet for the floor does not seem to have occurred to those easily-satisfied individuals who were willing to sleep on a straw-mat, with a log under their heads, or at best a sack filled with chaff or straw, for a bolster. Floors were strewn with rushes, occasionally renewed as the accumulation of rubbish made it necessary. Among the items at the time of crowning Isabella, queen of John, there is a charge of thirty-three shillings for strewing Westminster Hall with herbs and rushes. It is this custom which Shakespeare refers to in "Taming of the Shrew ""Where's the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimmed, rushes strewed, cobwebs swept?"—and in other plays.

Those were the days when they had oiled paper or thinly shaved pieces of horn in what they called windows, or the openings were filled with strips of wicker, interlaced in checker-work; when scarcely a church even could boast of a pane of crystal, and when a nobleman, who had thin layers of beryl in his castle windows, was looked upon as very luxurious in his tastes.

After the cloth was arranged, the salt-cellar was set on, then the knives (if they were so fortunate as to have any) were placed, the spoons, the drinking-horns, and the trenchers.

The salt-cellar was the most important article of all; very large, and made with a cover. It is this latter peculiarity which Shakespeare alludes to, where he makes Launce say: "The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt."

Where the host could afford it, it was of solid silver, elaborately chased; often a very substantial piece of plate,

as costly as his means would allow. And this accounts for the greed with which Queen Elizabeth once seized upon one, on occasion of visiting a certain great official; she had already received valuable gifts from him, but before her departure she "took a salt, a spoon, and a fork of fair agate."

The salt-cellar occupied the place of honor on the table, and the most distinguished persons sat above it. To sit "below the salt" meant to be in the position of an inferior.

The meats were brought in on spits just as they were cooked, and in that' way passed round by the servants to the guests, who, in the more barbarous times, tore off a portion as best they could. Afterward, when they had advanced a little in their ideas, there was a carver who held the meat with one hand while he cut with the other; and the guests helped themselves, using their hands, and after they had devoured what they wished, threw the bones to the dogs and cats that waited under the table and scrambled for their share among the rushes. Naturally enough, every one was expected to wash his hands before coming to the "board," and certainly it was needful afterward.

A few had knives, shaped like a razor, but forks were unknown. Even the great Elizabeth ate with her fingers. In her reign, however, commerce was extended, and luxuries began to appear, porcelain and glasses instead of pewter mugs to drink from, and in her bathroom she had mirrors, and this was considered a great extravagance. Her immense and lofty rooms were meagre and cheerless enough with their scant furnishings; and her table, in spite of many pieces of plate, was not altogether removed from the rudeness of manners of the early Saxons. At first, two persons ate from one "trencher," as it was called. There were no plates, and these trenchers were made to answer the purpose. They were, in fact, large slices of bread, placed before each one (or two), to accommodate the meat. There were two qualities of bread: one fine, to be eaten; the other, of the coarse, inferior flour, was made into large loaves, then the outer crust was removed and laid aside for the poor, and the rest cut into very thick and substantial slices, and thus used instead

of plates. In the course of time some ingenious person conceived the happy idea of having real plates; the wealthy furnished themselves with valuable ones of silver, and eventually the common people were provided with such as their circumstances admitted, made of wood or pewter, and finally earthen

ware came into use.

But in those days they were well content with the primitive arrangement of the trenchers. The bread thus used soaked up the gravy, and became quite savory in consequence; and when the meal was ended, each one ate his plate if he chose; otherwise it was put into the alms-basket, which was always kept ready, and into which all the leavings were gathered, and sent out to the poor waiting at the gate-the were never forgotten in those old Saxon households.

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Every one had his drinking-horn or cup; usually it was a horn, often elaborately carved, and ornamented with gold and silver, and considered a very valuable article among a man's possessions. The drinking-horn was sometimes left by will as a special gift, as one would now bequeath a diamond ring or a costly watch. In the transfer of land, before the custom of witnessing by seal was introduced, the owner gave something in pledge as an assurance or token of the contract, and in such cases it was not uncommon to make use of the drinking-horn. One family held their estate from Canute by his drinking-horn. That was their sole proof. One gets from this fact an idea of the value which was attached to this article of personal property.

The drinking-horns (and glasses afterward) were so made that they could not be kept in an upright position; therefore it became necessary as soon as they were filled to swallow their contents at once. From their propensity to fall over is said to have come our word "tumbler," as applied to a drinking-glass.-Hearth and Home.

Many a favor hath faith conferred upon the soul while in the body. The great service it did was in the time of its espousals to Christ. This is the marriage-knot, the blessed bond of union between the soul and Christ.

The Bat.

[The following poem by Prof. W. M. Nevin of Lancaster, Pa. which was first printed in Harbaugh's " Birds of the Bible," has been re-written by the author and prepared for publication in COLLEGE DAYS.]

The bat, as he woke from his slumber sweet,

In his darksome cave, his secure retreat,

Where he'd hung all day from his hinder feet,
And spread my wing, for a merry flight;
For mine eyes are sharp, and 'tis my delight
To dart me through the dim twilight,

Said: Now I will let me fall

When the birds are sleeping all.

Or the whippoorwill begin his strain,
To hear the dismal owl complain,
In the woods he did not choose to remain ;
But urged by a livelier whim,
He quitted the trees with the birds at rest,

The meadow soon with the dew to be prest,

And the lonely dell in its silence blest;—

These were all too dull for him.

To the green he comes where the boys are out,
And high o'er their heads he flirts about,
Who hail him all with a joyful shout;
With the winning charm, familiar and pat,
Which often to him is cried for that:
"Bat, bat, fly into my hat

And fain would they him entice

And of bacon I'll give you a slice."

Those words will he heed, so falsely told?—
Will the silly bird be thus cajoled?
Still downward he sweeps in his circlings bold,
Till he grazes that urchin's hair;
When after him quick the hat is thrown;
'Twas all to let his skill be known;—

He's abroad and everywhere.

Now he whips away in his fitful flight
Through a casement into a parlor bright,
Where the young and gay are met that night,
And he throws them into alarm;
For each maiden fears that the ugly thing,
As he flits her by on his leathern wing,
Himself will into her tresses fling,

And do her a deal of harm.

Ah, now the trifler will sure be caught!
The knights are up with the valorous thought

To strike him down, and he has forgot

Where it was that he first came in.

They are after him hard with brush and cane; His nights are numbered! he must be slain ! But he darted-whither? They watch in vain; He is off, no more to be seen.

He is sporting without in a safer place;
He is giving the moths and millers a race
For he feels himself in a hungry chase;

And these his affections crave;
So such as sailing abroad he sees
He darts upon with the quickest ease;
And having feasted himself on these,

He retreats again to his cave.

To Whom It May Come.

There is no class of persons more exposed to the dangers and temptations of our cities than the young girls who are sent into factories, mills and stores at an early age to earn their own livelihood, and who often do much toward the support of their families. They deserve all honor for their noble efforts to help themselves, and to lighten, as in most cases they do, the burdens of fathers and mothers crushed by too much toil. But by being thrown thus so early into the world they are in danger of losing that delicate refinement of purity which is the beauty and glory of woman's character, and which, once lost, can never be restored.

We honor you for your honest toil. And it is possible for you to go through years of such labor and associations, pure and unsullied as the lily that floats upon the water. Thousands do. We only say that there is danger that the associations into which you are thrown may mar the refinement and simplicity of your spirit and the tender beauty of your soul. Many young girls lose their modesty in such associations, and become coarse and rude in speech and behaviour, and a young girl with such blemishes is one of God's most beautiful pictures spoiled.

Watch your words, your street behaviour, your intercourse with others. Preserve your modesty of speech and deportment. Abhor all slang phrases, coarse jests, rude, and above all, impure words. Keep your heart right, and that you may keep it well, let Christ keep it for you. Seek to be what you want to appear to be. Accept these suggestions in the spirit of love.-S. S. Times.

Japanese Traits.

The recent opening of Japan to commerce and the moral influence of Christian nations, has awakened a general desire for fuller and more definite information as to the characteristics of this vast empire. A traveler, who has enjoyed large opportunities for personal observation, is now attempting an answer to this desire in a series of articles in the Revue des Deux Mondes, from which

the following is selected by Rev. J. P. Lacroix, correspondent of the Christian Advocate:

Japanese society is based on the system of classes, and the respect shown by the lower to the higher is extreme. For example, when the mayor of a town rides out he is preceded by heralds ordering the population where he is passing to prostrate themselves to the earth. The forms of civility are excessive. When two officers or merchants meet in the street, they stop still, and before passing exchange grave and profound bows. Even two friends who meet every day are careful not to neglect this ceremony. Among women these forms are still more emphasized. When a friend calls and is once seated on the mat, all bow their foreheads several times to the floor. The first words are thanks for some past service which they really or feignedly call to mind. Then the hostess fills, lights, wipes, and passes to the new-comer her little pipe, and along with it the inevitable cup of tea. The treatment of servants is rather of a patriarchal type. Though abjectly subordinate in principle they are practically much respected, and treated almost like children.

Japanese houses are very simple. The first story is the work-shop. The second, which serves for a habitation, is roughfloored and plentifully furnished with large mats, which serve at once for chairs and for beds. The centre of this room is occupied by a large square stove with many compartments, a kind of kitchen in itself. A large chest of drawers, a few other simple articles, an abundance of paper ornaments, are the chief other features of a Japanese home.

With unmarried women the ruling passion is for the toilet and for coquetry. Hours are consumed in getting the hair in desirable shape, and an equal time in tinting the skin. The neck, arms, and face are painted white; the mouth and cheeks red, and the eye-brows black Nor is this to hide a premature oldness, for which some excuse could be imagined, for blooming children are painted most. Their dress, however, is simple, and not unbecoming. A large belt is provided with little pockets for the pipe, small mirror, etc. The feet are generally bare. The light wooden sandals, which are worn when walking, are uni