The Druids and Their Temples

1875

BY ALEXANDER WAINWRIGHT.

Near the town of Carnac, in Brittany, France, there is an extensive plain several miles wide, with a flat and barren surface. It is the last place in the world a tourist would care about visiting, if he were simply traveling in search of beautiful objects. In Winter the coldest winds blow over it with wild force, and in Summer it is unprotected by trees or shrubbery from the scorching shafts of the sun. But it is not wholly uninteresting, and I propose that we shall make a short visit to it.

We will suppose, then, that you and I are stopping at one of the quiet taverns in Carnac, and have wandered toward the plain for a walk. Just outside the town a bit of a hill rises high enough to show us the surrounding country.

There are few houses or trees on the plain; but it is divided into several avenues by long rows of unhewn upright stones, which, as far as the eye can see, are ranged in almost perfect order, like an army prepared for battle. There are over a thousand of them, and they stretch across the country from east to west for nearly seven miles. The largest are twenty-two feet high, and the smallest ten feet. A few have fallen, and others have been carted away; but originally they were placed apart at regular distances.

When you come nearer to them you will see many signs of age upon them. They are seamed, mossy, and battered. How old do you guess they are? Nobody is quite sure, not even the wisest of the historians, but we may safely say that they have held their present positions for over eighteen hundred years. For eighteen hundred years they have clung to the meager ground and withstood the combined assaults of time and storm, while generation after generation of the living has passed away.

How did they come there? The simple, credulous people of old, to whom all fairy stories were the truest histories, believed that giants brought them and planted them; but we know better than that.

They were erected by ordinary men, and you may imagine how much labor the work cost at a time when there were no carts or wheel-barrows, much less railroads or massive cranes. Years, perhaps centuries, were occupied, and to the builders the undertaking must have seemed as stupendous as the erection of the East River bridge seems to us.

Similar stones are found at other places in Brittany; but the most famous collection is on a plain near the town of Salisbury, in England. This is called Stonehenge, and consists of one hundred and forty stones, the smallest of which weigh ten tons and the largest seventy tons. The remains of men and animals have been also found in the vicinity, and these have given the antiquaries a clue as to the objects for which the stones were raised.

Nothing positive is known about them, but it is supposed that they mark the temples of the Druids, a religious order which possessed great power in France and England during the century before and the century after the coming of Christ. They obtained a complete mastery over the ignorant and superstitious people then occupying those countries, by the practice of mysterious arts, which often were extremely cruel. They professed to know the hidden nature of things, and the forms and movements of the sun and stars; but in reality they were not as wise as the children in our primary schools, and the simplest tricks of a good modern conjurer would surpass their most wonderful ones. They were astrologers and herb-doctors as well as priests and historians, and they attributed a sacred character to many plants.

The mistletoe was considered a cure for all diseases, and was gathered with great ceremonies. When it was discovered twined about the oak, which was also sacred, the Druids assembled near the tree and prepared a banquet and sacrifice. A priest in white raiment cut the twig off with a golden sickle, and two other priests, also dressed in white, caught it in a white apron as it fell. Two milk-white oxen were afterward sacrificed, and the ceremonies concluded with much rejoicing.

The marshwort was plucked by a priest with his left hand, his head being turned aside, as there was a superstition that the plant would lose its virtues if it were obtained otherwise; and the hedge-hyssop was gathered after offerings of bread and wine.

These plants were supposed to be remedies, not only for physical diseases, but also for mental diseases, and it was thought that they afforded protection against all evil spirits.

Little beads of amber were looked upon as safeguards against all dangers, but the most potent of all charms was a serpent's egg. It was said that when a serpent was knotted together, eggs came out of its mouth, and were supported in the air by its hissings. The priests hid themselves in the woods watching for this marvel, and, when it was observed, one of them would boldly rush forward, catch an egg in a napkin, mount a horse and gallop toward the nearest river, after reaching which he was safe from the pursuit of the serpent. This was their story about it. Even in this day, some impostors advertise in the newspapers that they can foretell future events, and the Druids claimed a like power. They examined the entrails of animals, and watched the flight of birds, from which they professed to tell things that would happen years afterward.

Human sacrifices formed one of the most terrible features of their religion. The victims usually were criminals or prisoners of war; but when there were none of these, innocent and unoffending persons were sacrificed.

The favorite resort of the Druids was an island opposite the mouth of the river Loire, in France, where, once every year, between sunrise and sunset, they pulled down and rebuilt the roof of their temples; and any priest who allowed the smallest part of the sacred materials to fall carelessly, was torn to pieces by his fellows.

The only traces of the order left to us are the rude stone buildings at Stonehenge and Carnac. Retreating before the Romans, the Druids went to the Isle of Anglesey, in Wales; and when they saw their conquerors following, they made preparations for a battle. Among their preparations — not exactly for the battle, but for what they expected to follow it — were immense altars, on which they intended to sacrifice the unfortunate Romans who should be left after the battle. They were quite sure that they would need these altars, for their oracles gave them every reason to believe in a glorious triumph of their arms. But the Romans were again victorious, and the Druids themselves were the ones sacrificed.

—St. Nicholas, June 1875, pp. 469-471.

Roman Road Built to Last

1914

Parts of Magnificent Marble-Paved Highway Across Macedonia Are Still Passable as in Days Past

We do not know how Neapolis looked in Paul's time though it must have been a place of some considerable importance, since the great Egnatian Way, a splendid road paved with marble, and which stretched all the way from Rome to this outermost boundary of Macedonia, ended here.

This road, traversing the whole southern part of Italy, from the Mediterranean to Brindisi on the Adriatic, began again after the interruption of the Adriatic at Durazzo; then it went across the breadth of Macedonia to Salonica, Apollonia, Amphipolis, Philippi and Neapolis. With all our modern pride in road building, since time began there has perhaps never been constructed such a magnificent highway as this.

After passing some large modern tobacco warehouses and some fine homes belonging to the tobacco magnates, we came to the edge of the city and faced a tremendous rock hill, seemingly composed of solid granite, on which not a blade of grass or the smallest shrub could find lodgment. Black and forbidding is this great mass of rock, like the "black hills" of Montenegro. Beside the modern road, and not more than fifty yards away in many places, the old Roman road was plainly visible.

It is now so out of repair as to be impassable, and yet in some small stretches it is as smooth and as well paved as in the ancient days, though I saw none of the marble slabs with which it is said to have been covered. I descended from our ancient chariot and walked upon some of these stones of the old road. — Christian Herald.

Enthusiasm in Religion — "Be Fervent in Spirit"

California, 1915

Dr. J. Harvey Deere, pastor of the First Baptist church, spoke to a capacity house yesterday morning on "Enthusiasm in Religion." He chose as his text Romans 12:11, "Be fervent in Spirit, serving the Lord." Several applications for membership followed the message. He announced that he would speak next Sunday on the subject, "How may I know I am saved?"

In part the pastor said: There is a vast difference between a teakettle full of hot water, and a teakettle filled with cold water. The first may run over, the latter never will. And when Paul says, "Be fervent in spirit" he is arguing for the boiling over Christian life. I am not reading this into his words. It is there, as the Greek makes plain, so don't be afraid of being enthusiastic in your faith. Unreservedly are you devoted to your home and your business and your city, and your pleasures and your politics. It ought to be so. But are not your church and your Christ and your hope worth more than all else?

Don't be afraid of boiling over in your religion. Hot-handed, fiery-spirited, blazing-faced devotees the church needs. Sorry I am that a friendly critic came so near the truth when he said: "There are few inherently important things that create less sensation of any sort than the average church." The revival fires we must strive to keep burning.

Don't be afraid of getting too warm in your religion. "I had never thought of Christ being enthusiastic," said a friend recently. But He was. Once He got so enthusiastic that His friends said, "He is beside himself." His enemies said, "He has a devil. He is mad." The truth is, nothing seems so crazy as enthusiasm to a man incapable of feeling it.

Don't feel that you must apologize for putting yourself into your religion. The apostles were fiery men. Peter was aflame at Pentecost. John and James were called "Sons of Thunder." If there was a lethargic temperament in the apostolic company it was that of Thomas; but even Thomas was so passionately devoted to Jesus that in a crisis in the Master's life he said to his comrades, "Come, let us go and die with him."

The church will have money enough to pay its bills and keep its self-respect. The church will have no empty pews and it will sweep through the community with the power of the Niagara. And the church will become magnetic in its influence, overmastering in its spirit, unimpeachable in its life when her members dare, like the apostles of old, become a set of enthusiasts for the Christ.

—The Fresno Morning Republican, Fresno, CA, Oct. 18, 1915, p. 2.

Spilled Salt in the "Lord's Supper" Picture

1900

Salt

Spilling salt was held to be an unlucky omen by the Romans, and the superstition has descended to ourselves. Leonardo da Vinci availed himself of this tradition in his famous picture of the "Lord's Supper" to indicate Judas Iscariot by the saltcellar knocked over by his arm.

Salt was used in the sacrifice by the Greeks and Romans and also by the Jews. It was an emblem of purity and of the sanctifying influence on others of a holy life. Hence our Lord tells his disciples, "Ye are the salt of the earth." The salt being spilt after it was placed on the head of the victim was considered a bad omen, being supposed to signify that the sacrifice was not accepted, and hence the superstition.

When we say of the shiftless fellow that he does not "earn his salt" we unconsciously allude to an ancient custom among the Romans. Among them a man was said to be in possession of a "salary" who had his "salarium," his allowance of salt money, or salt, wherewith to savor the food by which he lived. Thus salary comes from salt, and in view of the word how many there are who do not "earn their salt."

Humanity's Great Helper — The Divine Friend

1910

The long foretold advent of Jesus the Divine Friend has made a tremendous difference for the race. We are not now living in the feted atmosphere of the Roman decadence, nor are our higher interests mocked by the Hellenic frivolity. The whole tone of life is better, and its promise fairer. And the glory of all this mental quickening and moral improvement belongs to Jesus Christ.

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea it meant that God had sent to humanity a helper. Humanity of and by itself is poor and weak and wanting; it requires assistance from beyond itself, and the help that it most urgently requires is salvation. The world's greatest need is a Saviour, and Jesus Christ came to be that redeemer. "Thou shalt call his name Jesus," said the angel, "for he shall save his people from their sins."

Comment: It's common to hear that before the World Wars there was a more optimistic outlook on human nature through the spread of religion and at least the conventional acceptance of its tenets. Then after World War I, the depths of sin were seen to be still pretty well ingrained, maybe not the same degree of progress as imagined. This tiny article doesn't get into all that in any explicit way. But you can see a hint of it in the contrast that Christianity brought between now and the long-ago decadence and frivolity. The difference is a "mental quickening and moral improvement," which is the phrase that brings this to mind. Society getting better and better, then the Lord comes!

Little articles like this, unless attribution is given to a publication, are apparently just little orphans of thought. They were obviously distributed far and wide by some syndicating agency for a fee, and used as fillers and content. I imagine someone hacking them out, hack writing, or maybe, like this one in particular, they're snippets from sermons.

Children Seen in New Light with Coming of Christ

1908

Jesus the Light of Childhood. He, the only begotten Son of his Father, who had been in heaven since before the world was made; he who had shared in the making of this world, for we are told that "without him was not anything made," even he left his high estate, and so humbled himself that he came down to earth to live among men, being born of a woman.

Mary was that mother mild
And Jesus Christ that little child.

The Divine became a child, that a child might become almost divine. His birth in Bethlehem wrought a great change in the estimate of the child. Hitherto the elder or the Pharisee had been the ideal, but Jesus set a child in the midst, saying, "Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." And from that hour the whole fabric of childhood was changed.

Roman parents, perhaps the most cultured parents in the world, were guilty of the grossest cruelty to their new-born children, even abandoning them by carrying them to the Velabrum, a district in Rome, near Mount Aventine, where they were left to die or to be gathered up by ill-disposed people, who maimed them by curving their backs or shortening their limbs, in order to use them as beggars. "That workshop of human misfortunes, those shambles of infants," that was what the Velabrum was.

When the influence of Christ was felt, and Christianity began to hold sway, this crime against innocents was abated. Constantine, the first Christian emperor, put forth a proclamation to turn parents from using a murderous hand on their new-born children, and to dispose their hearts to the best sentiments. And the "abandoned" children were gathered from the Velabrum to be brought up honestly; foundling hospitals were established later, houses of mercy for children were founded by Justinian, and gradually all sorts of charities for the welfare of children have been developed, such as aid societies, creches, kindergartens, hospitals for children, schools for defective children, reformatory institutions, etc. It is the far-reaching influence of the fact that Christ was born in Bethlehem. — Christian Herald.

Romans 12: "Abhor That Which is Evil"

Atlanta, 1901

Merritts Avenue

At Merritts Avenue church the pastor, Rev. R. F. Eakes, preached at the morning hour from the text, Romans xii, 9: "Abhor that which is evil." He said in substance:

"People who have for so many thousand years had the benefit of the teachings of all the prophets, of the Christ, and of all history, ought to be able to hate evil, to abhor the wickedness that seems to entice mankind. We abhor sickness and have met with large success in removing the tendencies to it in the better understanding of sanitary and hygienic conditions. Evil in the text is translated from a word meaning unhealthfulness. It is a moral sickness, a plague, contagious in the extreme and leading to death. Just as we are interested in removing disease from our midst we are interested in removing moral sickness. We must abstain from the very appearance of evil. We must have nothing to do with it; we must leave it so far alone that it will have no further flesh to feed upon; we must allow no further cause for the spread of contagion.

"Should I venture too near a case of smallpox or scarlet fever with my child and allow him thus to contract disease, all public sentiment would condemn me as a criminal. Shall I not show at least equal care to keep my child from moral contagion? Shall I risk evil influences and allow association with questionable thoughts and people, and not be likewise condemned? God seems to have exhausted the very storehouse of heaven's wisdom and power to warn men from the evil that is present in the world. He has placarded places where sin dwells, He has declared its symptoms and He has furnished a remedy therefor, and yet man despises all these things. We have had evil pointed out to us — 'Abhor that which is evil.' The general rules of the church point out many things that indicate the tendency toward evil, and which, if properly observed, will lead mankind to a higher, better life."

Mr. Eakes read a portion of the rules of the church with appropriate and at times severe criticism upon the laxity of their observance. He scored theater-going, card playing, dancing as amusements not to be indulged in, and gave sound advice in reference to these evils that some people try to wink at.

--The Atlanta Constitution, Atlanta, Georgia, May 27, 1901, page 10.