626 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Aug. 15. 



along. I could not succeed in persuading him 

 that they were good to eat, aud he gave it up 

 with a remark something like this: 



"Well, Bro. Root, .some people may learn to 

 eat these mushy things, but I am afraid I never 

 shall." 



Well, when we were out on that trip with 

 friend Touchton we passed a beautiful -shaped 

 tree of Japanese persimmons. It was just a 

 model in symmetry and grace; and the beauti- 

 ful handsome fruits were set evenly through 

 all the tree, just as thick as they could hang on 

 the leafless limbs — the leaves had all fallen, 

 you see. Why, you would have said, to look at 

 that tree, that nature never could have pro- 

 duced any thing so faultless. It must have 

 been fixed up for an exposition or for a 

 fruit-dealer's catalogue. Why didn't I take it 

 with the Kodak? Oh dear! the Kodak was at 

 home; and it was so near night that we could 

 not have time to go back and get it. If I ever 

 do come across a truthful picture of a persim- 

 mon-tree full of fruit I will try to give it to you. 



OURSELVES AND OUR NEIGHBORS. 



Let tlie words of my mouth, and the meditation 

 of my heart, be acceptable in thy sig-ht, O Lord, my 

 strength and my redeemer.— Psalm 19:14. 



It was about a quarter past eleven in the 

 forenoon. I had just awakened from my fore- 

 noon nap. By the time I had washed my face 

 and brushed my hair hastily, the whistle blew. 

 It was text-day; and by the time I was on hand 

 for the noon service, the friends were gathered 

 there, each having in his hand a neat little 

 text, as is the custom every Thursday. There 

 had been a beautiful summer shower the day 

 before; and under the influence of the hot July 

 weather every thing was growing wonderfully. 

 I had been refreshed by my sleep, and perhaps 

 that was why I was in a thankful frame of 

 mind rather more than usual. As soon as I 

 ascended the stairs it occurred to me that the 

 hymn they were singing was one of wonderful 

 beauty — in fact, it seemed almost an inspira- 

 tion. During the singing I opened my Bible, 

 and on a slip of paper were the words of our 

 text. The penmanship seemed at the time 

 wonderful: but the thing above all others that 

 atti-acted my attention was the words of the 

 text. During my recent travels I met, as a 

 matter of course, many unbelievers; and I was 

 especially pained to hear more than one good 

 brother say that he would be glad to believe as 

 I do, but he could not. Nothing in the Holy 

 Scriptures seemed to come home to them as it 

 did to me, carrying conviction that the words 

 were unquestionably the words of God. I have 

 thought of these friends a good deal, and I have 

 prayed for them. In reading my Bible I have 

 often wondered what passages or what texts 

 would be most appropriate to indicate its divine 

 origin; and I have taken up passage after pas- 

 sage in that way. You see, I wanted some- 

 thing that, in small compass, would cover suf- 

 ficient ground to settle the question. I told you 

 about once finding a scrap of paper in the dirt 

 and debris and ISits of leather on the floor of a 

 shoeshop. The occupant of a drugstore adjoin- 

 ing the shoeshop ^old me afterward, that, if the 

 Bible were all lost except that scrap of paper, 

 that alone was sutticient to take man from earth 

 to heaven. Well, while I held this slip of paper 

 in my hand, and looked at the words, it seemed 

 to me that, if the whole Bible were lost except 

 this one little verse, this verse alone — or, per- 

 haps, I should say that prayer, for it is a prayer 

 — ought to be enough of itself to lift one from 



earth and its uncertainties to a conception of 

 God, his infinity and unchangeableness. Now, 

 then, you friends of mine who do not find the 

 Bible sufficient of itself, listen to me for just a 

 little time, will you, please? 



Somebody— we do not know who — that is, 

 providing we have this text and not the rest of 

 the chapter or the rest of the Bible— somebody, 

 I say, was uttering a prayer. The very first 

 words indicate unquestionably that it is a 

 prayer. There have been many definitions of 

 prayer, I know; but I am going to give you a 

 definition of my own just now. Some of you 

 might say that prayer alone by one's self is 

 simply to talk to one's self. No, no! it is more 

 than that. We will suppose that the individ- 

 ual who gave voice to these words was one like 

 ourselves (or " our neighbors "), if you choose, 

 who had found by sad experience that his words 

 were not always wise and not always the best 

 words that could be spoken. Nay, further: 

 this individual had lived a life of ups and 

 downs, just as we do. He had met. perhaps, 

 many discouragements. He had made resolu- 

 tions to be better and to be purer; he had again 

 and again felt dissatisfied with selfish longings 

 and the pursuit of selfish ways. He had been 

 groping in darkness for something purer and 

 better beyond. He might have said, '* In future 

 I am resolved to be careful what I say;" but, 

 dear friends, this little word ''let" reveals 

 something more. It is not only a resolution but 

 a promise, or a promise and petition together, 

 if you choose. He is speaking to somebody 

 more than human; he is asking for help; and 

 in this attitude, under these circumstances, he 

 says, "iet the words of my mouth." This is 

 good — it is grand— it is inspiring. It sounds 

 like a desire and a longing to climb above hu- 

 man weakness — or a plea for help, and now 

 for the second part of this wonderful sentence. 



It is not only the words of his mouth, but 

 right along come these awful, solemn words, 

 " the meditation of my heart.^'' Some of us talk 

 a great deal, and I think it is well that we do. 

 There are, perhaps, extremes both ways; but I 

 do love people who talk freely and familiarly 

 with their fellow- men. Now, we talk a good 

 deal, but we think a great deal more. In fact, 

 from the time we get ideas in our childhood 

 from our teachers to the time we close our eyes 

 in death, we are constantly meditating. Even 

 while asleep a sort of meditation seems still to 

 be going on — at least, part of the time. Now, 

 we soon learn to be very careful to keep our 

 meditations to ourselves. The most of us med- 

 itate one thing, very frequently, v\'hile we talk 

 something else. Oh! don't be in haste now to 

 call us hypocrites. Surely you would not de- 

 mand that a young lady who has decided to 

 say yes when the proper time comes should 

 talk right out the meditation of her heart. 

 Why, when these two young people are just 

 becoming acquainted, it would be the most 

 foolish thing in the world for her to tell him 

 exactly what she is thinking of. May be you 

 think I get on to this subject a good deal, in 

 regard to the relations of our young people as 

 they emerge from their teens. Well, if I do I 

 am sure I need not be ashamed of it. One of 

 the most sacred and holy relations we meet 

 here in this life is that of the sexes; and with 

 (rod's love in the hearts of both of them, the 

 relation is as holy and sacred and safe as that 

 between parent and child. Well, now, let us go 

 back to the prayer. 



The one who is praying has, without question, 

 some conception in his heart of an infinite being 

 far above any thing that is human. He be- 

 lieves in some one who not only hears all words 

 spoken by the mouth, but even looks into the 

 innermost recesses of the heart, and reads our 



