Book 1 — EDITOR’S OUTLOOK.
Reading edition
THE HEADQUARTERS OF THE C. L. S. C.
The Chautauqua Circle is unlike all other circles. It possesses three centers. Its intellectual center is the place where the superintendent happens to be at any given moment; for where the king is, there is the court. The center of its enthusiasm, the Mecca of its members, is the Hall of Philosophy, among the beeches of St. Paul’s Grove, where once a year the gates are opened, the Arches are garlanded, and the Watch-Fires are kindled. Its business center, which may properly be called the headquarters of the C. L. S. C., is in Plainfield, New Jersey. Few who pass around the corner of a modest brick building near the railway station in that lovely country city, are aware that they are in the shadow of the walls within which is transacted the business of an organization numbering more than fifty thousand, and extending its arms around the world. Two rooms upon the second floor are all the space at present afforded for the work of the office. There is great need of more enlarged quarters. Its home was assigned when the Circle was about a fourth of its present dimensions, and its business has far outgrown the capacity of its capitol.
One of the two rooms is the place where most of the clerical work of the Circle is carried on by the efficient young secretary and her lady assistants, who number from five to ten at different seasons in the scholastic year. One young lady opens the letters received, which sometimes number twenty-three hundred in a week, and never fall below eleven hundred, and assorts them. Another finds constant employment in answering inquiries, addressing circulars of information, in changing the names and addresses of members who change their residences, or of lady members who get married and change their names. About ten per cent. of these people forget to state to which class they belong, and consequently their names must be hunted up in the different class-registers. [Mem. Whenever you write to the office, always mention the graduating year of your class.] Another young lady keeps account of the fees, and writes receipts to those who pay them, and quite frequently finds it necessary to search the big books for the address of a member who has forgotten to tell in what State he lives, and forgotten also that there are twenty-seven towns of that same name in the United States. [Mem. Always be sure to give your postoffice address fully.] A couple more of the staff are busy at certain seasons in filling and addressing the envelopes which are sent three or four times a year to upward of forty thousand people. It requires most of the time of one person to file the letters, postal cards and outline memoranda received from the members, for every scrap of writing sent by members of the C. L. S. C. is duly arranged in its alphabetical place, so that it can be referred to at any minute. The secretary herself sits at a table whereon stands a formidable pile of letters containing questions upon every subject imaginable (beside others unimaginable); outline memoranda to be examined, inquiries concerning seals on diplomas, a labyrinth so intricate that nobody except the secretary has the clue; requests for permission to substitute for the Required Reading Mac-Somebody’s history of which nobody else has ever heard the name; and occasionally a letter which warms one’s heart, as it tells of the blessing which the C. L. S. C. has brought to a far-away home. No letter remains long unanswered, and no inquiry, however slight, is passed by.
A very careful account is kept with each member of the C. L. S. C., so that quite a history could be written of each student’s relation to the office. To each class of the Circle is assigned a large volume, ruled to supply blanks for all the data. In this the names of the members are enrolled in alphabetical order. Opposite each name are recorded the answers upon the application blank; receipts of fees of membership, with dates; receipts of outline memoranda, and a space for report as to the member’s final destiny in the C. L. S. C., whether diploma or withdrawal.
The second of the two rooms at the headquarters might be, from its general appearance, either a postoffice or a dove-cote. It is cut up into pigeon holes, which fill it in every part, leaving only narrow aisles for passage. In these boxes are kept the envelopes which represent the members of the C. L. S. C. To every member is assigned a large manilla envelope, upon which is written the name and address; and into that envelope goes every letter received from the said member, with his outline memoranda, and answers to the questions on the application blank. The envelopes are constantly called into use, as letters from the members are frequent; and even after the class which they represent has graduated they are still kept, so that every application, letter, or outline memoranda, from the first day of the Circle’s history can be recalled to view. Thus each member can be assured that his name will have a double title to be remembered in the generations to come. In the archives of the C. L. S. C. will be found his enrollment, upon the page of the volume containing the record of his class, and the envelope which bears his name and contains several specimens of his handwriting and signature.
We look forward to a day, it is to be hoped not far distant, when the office work of the C. L. S. C. shall enjoy more ample accommodations. Its growing numbers give increasing work and require larger room, and not long can the headquarters of the C. L. S. C. be kept within their present narrow bounds.
EVANGELISTS.
The term Evangelist literally means “publisher of glad tidings.” It is met in the book of the Acts of the Apostles and in the writings of Paul, and though from the meager accounts we have of the organization and practical workings of the church in Paul’s time it is difficult to determine the precise functions of those to whom it was applied, yet there is general accord in the notion that the Evangelists of the early church were a sort of under-missionaries working under direction of the apostles and preceding the pastors whose business it was to watch over and minister to the local organizations. The position of Evangelist was of great importance and usefulness. The name is bestowed in praise and honor by Paul on one of his most esteemed co-workers.
Although in the literal and best sense every man called to preach the Gospel is an Evangelist in that he is called to proclaim the “glad tidings,” yet even in this nineteenth century as well as in the first, there is room and work for the Evangelist as he is conceived in the mind of Paul when he delivers his exhortation to Timothy. So long as there remain, whether within or without the pale of civilization, districts or localities whither the proclamation of “good news” has not come, there is a glorious sphere and mission for the Evangelist.
But not such is our latter-day, nineteenth century Evangelist, as he is commonly seen and known. He is not sent out by and under direction of the apostles, nor does he, as a rule, go in the name of any branch of the organized church. Not unto the heathen or pagan, not even unto the “waste places” where souls are in ignorance, perishing for lack of opportunity to hear the Gospel. No, the “Evangelist” in this age and country is an individual whose call has come in such a way that the organized church is often ignored. He does not precede civilization, but follows it on the railway train—not to the frontier, but to the goodly town or city. Once there, if his preference is consulted, it is not the “ragged portion,” with its sin and neglect, but the most popular church with all its auxiliaries of organ, choir, comfortable inquiry room, and the pastor as first subordinate. For gathering a crowd he calls to his aid that valuable assistant, the press. He is a “magnetic” man. He usually brings along with him some marked improvements in methods and theology. The latter sometimes consist in a new and improved definition of conversion, and a short-cut path through the old-fashioned wilderness of repentance. A few weeks of “work,” “hundreds of souls,” a goodly number of collections for the Evangelist interlarded, and he moves on to the next engagement.
Now that he is gone let us look around and see what he has left behind him. He has made his impression, men say. Yes, and he has left impressions, also. Here is one of them: It is that the regular pastor, to whose zeal and faithfulness the whole work must be indebted if it is to abide and amount to anything, as a servant and workman of the Lord, is very inferior to the stranger who made such a stir during the few weeks of his sojourn. The impression obtains in the church that they need not expect conversions under the regular ministry, but must await the coming of another Evangelist. The result is the lessening of the pastor’s influence in his church and community, and the education of the people to expect no more than a “tiding over” of the church till the time of another effort under similar leadership.
But not alone the church is educated to so think and expect, but the education reaches the minister also, and when this is so the result is simply deplorable. Bishop R. S. Foster in a recent address to a conference class has so well and truthfully expressed this result that we give his words: “It has become common in these days to say of preachers, ‘this is a revival preacher, and this is not.’ There is great harmfulness in the suggestion, for we tend to arrange ourselves around this point: We will be of the revival class, or not of the revival; as if any ministry dare to be anything but a revival ministry; as if a man could be a minister without this power of the Holy Ghost. We must set out to make ourselves revival preachers, working preachers, that will make sinners feel the power of the truth. And perhaps at this point I may say that it will be well for us to take time and consider the field, for it has become a popular idea for us to supplement our ministry by calling in other people to help us out, by employing evangelists, irresponsibles, running over the land, and burning it to a cinder in many places, asking them to come in and do the work God expects us to do.” If any one offers as an objection or protest against the above views the question, “What of Mr. Moody and others of signal success in this field of work?” we answer that when to the name of Moody is added a few others the list of their kind is exhausted. So we cite the proverb, “The exception proves the rule.”
THE NEW TIME STANDARDS.
One of our humorists has wittily depicted the blank astonishment of ocean voyagers whose watches, “never out of order at home,” utterly failed, as their owners journeyed to eastern lands, to keep pace with the flight of time. Each noon as the vessel’s officers made their observations and set their chronometers with the advanced meridian reached, found the passengers’ “Frodshams” lagging rearward. A matter, however, easily explained. Time is regulated by the sun. Wherever the sun is on a north and south line, or meridian, at that place it is noon, and the time obtained by such an observation (to say nothing of the equation of time) is “local” time. As, then, the vessel moved east, each day it met the sun (or rather the sun reached the meridian) earlier than on the day preceding, and all the watches and clocks had to be put ahead just as many minutes as equaled the number of minutes of longitude made by the vessel. In sailing west, the sun would arrive at the meridian later each day, and time-pieces would be too fast, and would have each day to be correspondingly “turned back.”
Of course, the same thing occurs on land. If we travel east our watches become too slow; if west, too fast; and the traveler is constantly occupied comparing his local time with those of the places he visits and of the trains on which he is carried. If in Pittsburgh, he finds western trains running by Columbus time, twelve minutes slower than Pittsburgh; eastern trains via Pennsylvania Central R. R., nineteen minutes faster; and eastern trains on the Baltimore and Ohio road fourteen minutes faster—just four standards for one city.
After some fourteen years of discussion among scientists and railroad men, an expedient has been finally adopted by which one clock will exhibit the “time” of the whole world. And it is simply this: Since by the earth’s revolution on its axis, any (all) point on the earth’s surface passes through 360° every twenty-four hours, or at the rate of 15° each hour, the surface can be divided into twenty-four sections, each 15° of arc, or one hour of time, in breadth, having for its standard time, the time of its (the section’s) middle meridian. This makes the difference in time between any two adjacent sections exactly one hour. Thus, if at Greenwich it is noon, from 7½° to 22½° west of Greenwich it is only 11:00 a. m., while in the section included by the meridians 7½° to 22½° east, it is 1:00 p. m. Or, when it is 3:25 p. m. at Greenwich, it is 2:25 and 4:25 p. m. respectively in the sections directly west and east of the Greenwich section; and 1:25 and 5:25 p. m. respectively in the next adjoining sections; and so on. Now applying this principle to our own country, we have the following scheme:
Meridian Standard. Local time compared with Greenwich time. Boundaries of Sections. Name of time.
60° W. 4 hours slow. 52½° to 67½° W. Atlantic.
75° W. 5 “ “ 67½° to 82½° W. Eastern.
90° W. 6 “ “ 82½° to 97½° W. Valley or Central.
105° W. 7 “ “ 97½° to 112½° W. Mountain.
120° W. 8 “ “ 112½° to 127½° W. Pacific.
From which it is readily seen we have but five instead of over fifty standards as heretofore; and that the time of any place can not vary more than thirty minutes from its own local time.
It is proposed that places located between the meridians given in the column headed “Boundaries of Sections,” shall adopt the time named in the same line in the next right hand column headed “Name of Time;” for example, places located between the meridians 67½ and 82½ west will adopt “Eastern” time, which is the local time of the 75th meridian, and is five hours slower than Greenwich and eight minutes 12.09 seconds faster than Washington time. It is not supposed, however, that this will be done as exactly as laid down in the table; for a railroad may be located principally in one section and extend a short distance into another; in which case it would not be worth while to change the standard for the short part. Thus, the Pittsburgh, Cincinnati and St. Louis Railway has its eastern terminus in Pittsburgh, something over 100 miles east of the Central section, in which the main body of the road lies; and this road adopts Central time throughout its whole extent. In like manner, San Antonio and Austin, Texas, are both in the “Mountain” section, but will probably prefer to adopt “Central” time and be respectively thirty-three and thirty-one minutes slower, than to adopt “Mountain” time and be respectively twenty-seven and twenty-nine minutes faster than their local time; and this for the obvious reason that their business connections are much more extensive with the Central than the Mountain region. But these cases do not in the least interfere with the integrity of the general scheme. The minute-hands of all properly regulated time-pieces will always indicate the same minute, and all “times” can be estimated by the addition or subtraction of entire hours. And in this lies the beauty and simplicity of the device.
With great unanimity the railroads of the United States, and most of the principal cities of the Union have already and without a “jar” adjusted their business to this new basis; and it is to be presumed that as soon as the advantages are fully understood, some cities that are now hesitating will fall into line. The fact is, that while the adoption of the new plan would produce a wonderful uniformity, there would be a few cases in which the disturbance of local time seems great; but it is not any greater than in hundreds of cases where the old method is used. To exhibit the changes we give a few samples: In New Orleans the time is fourteen seconds slower than local time; in St. Louis, forty-nine seconds slower; in Denver, no difference; in Philadelphia, 38.45 seconds slower; in New York, three minutes 58.38 seconds faster; in Baltimore, six minutes slower; in Washington City, eight minutes twelve seconds slower; while in Kansas City the time is eighteen minutes 21.7 seconds slower; in Pittsburgh, twenty minutes three seconds faster; in Cincinnati, twenty-two minutes 18.58 seconds faster; and in Omaha, twenty-four minutes slower than the respective local times.
RESULTS.
By the new system, railroad towns would have a great advantage in that they could obtain their time with greater precision from the railroad clocks, which are regulated by signals from astronomical observatories. Inland towns having no observatories or telegraphs would of course, as they do now, obtain their time as best they could from adjoining cities.
In some places there would still have to be two standards, as in railroad centers; but there never need be more than two, and as these two will always be exactly one hour apart, the adjustment of working hours, business hours, school hours, etc., is a problem involving nothing more than the addition or subtraction of an hour.
The Geodetic Congress which met in Rome a few weeks since, and in which the United States was officially represented by General Cutts, of the Coast Survey, passed, unanimously, resolutions urging the adoption of this system for the whole world, with the meridian of Greenwich, as it always has been and is now for all nautical calculations, the universal standard. A compliance with this recommendation would reduce, with our present time-pieces, the time of the world to twelve standards (our watches and clocks merely repeating themselves after crossing the 180th meridian), and enable a man to “circumnavigate the globe,” and always have correct time without once changing the minute-hand of his watch.
PÈRE HYACINTHE.
This distinguished orator is again visiting our shores, and very many will avail themselves of the opportunity to listen to his almost peerless eloquence. His mission this time is to raise money, by means of lectures and appeals to the benevolent, for the work in which he is engaged in Paris. A glance just now at this man’s remarkable career will be timely.
Father Hyacinthe’s real name is Charles Loyson. He was born in Orleans, France, March 10, 1827, and is therefore now nearly fifty-seven years of age. He showed in boyhood some precocity, writing verses which were regarded remarkable for his years. For some years he was a student at the academy of Pau, which institution he left at the age of eighteen to become a student of theology in the school of St. Sulpice. After receiving priest’s orders, he taught philosophy for a time at Avignon and theology at Nantes; then for ten years he was in charge of the parish of St. Sulpice. He was past thirty when he entered the convent of the Carmelites at Lyons as a novice. Two years after he became a member of the order, and began preaching in the lyceum at Lyons. He soon acquired great popularity here; and on visiting Bordeaux, Perigneux, and Paris, and giving courses of sermons in these several places, he made a wide and deep impression. It was about 1867 that the liberality of some of Father Hyacinthe’s sentiments attracted notice. His orthodoxy became suspected, but his popularity continued to grow. We see him, in 1869, examined by the pope as to his doctrines, whom he seems to have convinced of his substantial soundness. A little later, however, a great sensation was produced by some of his liberal utterances. The general of the order of Carmelites at Rome warned him that he must change his tone or cease from preaching. His reply to this order was so outspoken against certain practices of the church as to draw from Rome a threat of the major excommunication. He had been preaching in the church of Notre Dame, Paris, and was now prohibited from doing so longer.
It was soon after the opening of the breach between himself and the authorities of his church, in the autumn of 1869, that the great preacher made his first visit to America. His fame had preceded him, and by Protestants he was warmly welcomed. His stay was short, but those permitted to hear him in his few public addresses were ready to admit that his reputation was not amiss as one of the most consummate orators of modern times. The breach with Rome became wider. In 1870 the Pope released him from his monastic vows, and he has since been a secular priest. He earnestly protested against the dogma of papal infallibility proclaimed by the council of that year, and cast his lot for a time with the Old Catholics, headed by Döllinger. He soon chose for himself, however, an independent basis of action. Having, in public address, defended the right of the clergy to marry, he himself married an American lady in 1873, and is now the father of interesting children. His work latterly has been that of an independent preacher in the city of Paris. Like most independent movements, his own has not been a success. In breaking with Rome, he chose not to ally himself with Protestant Christians, and found himself unable to go with Old Catholics. He stands by himself, claiming to be a Catholic, but not a Papist. Of his perfect sincerity those who know him entertain no doubt; but the regret has doubtless been felt by very many that he could not have seen his way clear to devote his brilliant gifts to the cause of Protestant Christianity. The fame of his captivating oratory will long live; but he, perhaps, missed his opportunity to do a great work for the cause of truth in the earth.
