ARTESIAN WELLS. ARTESIAN Wells are simply deep borings tapping underground streams or reservoirs, from which the water rushes to the surface and often many feet above. They are named from the province of Artois or Artesium, in France, where they seem to have been first used in modern times, although they were evidently well known to the ancients. The depth to which the shaft is sunk varies in different places. At St. Ouen, in France, five sheets of water were tapped, and from each a supply was obtained. When the third one was reached, at the depth of one hundred and fifty feet, the borer suddenly fell about a foot, and the water came up with great force. The famous well at Grennell, in the suburbs of Paris, was commenced, as a scientific experiment, in 1834. After five years' labour, the depth of sixteen hundred feet having been reached and no water found, it was proposed to abandon the boring, but M. Arago persuaded the government to persevere, if necessary, to the depth of two thousand feet or more. At that of eighteen hundred feet, water was touched, and it rushed up through the opening at the rate of half-a-million gallons daily. Since then many wells have been bored two thousand or more feet in depth; but generally water is struck in the first five or six hundred. These wells are often of great value where the surface supply of water is scant or impure. London receives from them eight million gallons daily. În the neighbourhood of the city, many borings have been made, and generally water has been found at a depth of between three and four hundred feet; frequently on the opening of the wells it rose many feet above the surface of the ground. In one place the rush of water was so great as to flood several buildings and do much damage. An underground lake seems to underlie that section of country, but the supply that it will furnish is not unlimited, for the more wells that are sunk and the greater the daily discharge of water, the less the height to which it rises. Often, when a well is opened, the water will play in a fountain for a time, then gradually sink to the level of the ground, and perhaps below it, so that it has to be pumped as from an ordinary well. Between 1822 and 1851, the water in most of the wells had sunk forty-five and in some instances sixty-five feet. The increase of water taken from the wells was accompanied by a regular fall in its level. Thus it is evident that, however large the sheet of water may be, it is being lowered by the drawing off of more water than is added. ARTESIAN WELLS. The principle of Artesian wells is exactly that of artificial fountains. The water starting from a higher level finds such passage as it may through the ground, seeking an outlet, and if the first opening is from above, it rushes up until it reaches its original level, or can again begin running downward. It makes no difference how far the well may be from the original reservoir, if there is an underground current of water connecting them. Wells have been sunk in the desert of Sahara, and water obtained, to the great relief of the wandering tribes and caravans. It often happens that when a well is first opened, the water plays in a fountain, and then, suddenly sinking to the level of the ground or below it, remains stationary. This spouting of the water when it first finds a vent is owing to gases which have been confined with it underground, and in their eagerness to escape throw it to a height to which it would not be raised by the pressure of that behind. The wells seemed to be supplied not only from hidden reservoirs on hills and mountains, but also, sometimes, by leakage from the beds of lakes and rivers. Fish have been thrown up by them, even in the desert of Sahara, of a character showing that they could not be natives of underground streams, but must have come from some open body of water, although the nearest might be hundreds of miles distant. Sometimes the course of an underground stream can be pretty accurately determined by the character of the organic matter brought to the surface. Thus, at the boring of a well near Tours, France, there came from a depth of more than three hundred feet, branches of thorn several inches long, blackened by lying in the water; also the roots and stems of marsh-plants which had not been in the water more than three or four months. From these and some fresh water shells that were also brought up, it was inferred that the water had flowed from the valleys of the Auvergne or Vivarais, since the preceding autumn. The borings have also been of much aid to geologists in determining the order, character, and probable age of the different layers of the earth's surface, for the borer brings up matter from a depth which could be reached in no other way. Nor are these the only benefits derived from them. Many of our mineral springs are thus opened. In the Duchy of Luxembourg there is a salt stream so valuable that an artesian well has been sunk 2,363 feet to reach it. Borings are very numerous in the oil regions, and many of the best petroleum wells are opened in that way. Formerly the cutting was done by hand, but now the heavy chisels are worked by steam. IT NEVER FREEZES. IT NEVER FREEZES. Ir never freezes; for it is always in motion. No winter's cold can bind it, nor summer's heat cause it to stagnate in its destined course; for it will keep on. It never freezes; that little brook, small though it be, it must flow on: for it has a work to do, and though so apparently trivial, it has a tribute to bring to a larger stream, flowing to a deep river. It never freezes; for it is kept onward by a power that impels to constant action-a hidden mountain spring that never fails. No flowers now spring up beside it, nor ferns nor grasses fringe its borders; but, instead, there is a margin of slight, silvery icings, and ofttimes a thick, glassy crust upon the surface. Beneath, the steady current still keeps on; for it has a mission, even now. The cattle come here to drink, and the fowls from yonder barn-yard even stray hither; but this is not all-it must help to form that broad river. Nor will even the summer drought entirely stay its course. Though lessened, it still keeps on; down the hill side, through the field, across the road, beneath this rustic bridge, and again through wide meadows, till it reaches its goal, its course is onward, ever onward. "Is not here an illustration of some great truth?" thought I; as, pausing upon the little bridge, I marked the course of the small stream. Returning from the sick bed of an active Christian, the thought impressed me. A true member of Christ's spiritual body can never be useless; can never be without some kind of Christian activity. Sickness may impede its course, the flowers of earthly joy made fade and die; but the impelling love of Christ still bears it ever onward. And though upon a sick bed, or amid the wintry wastes and chills of bereavement, it has a mission yet. "There is a river, the stream whereof doth make glad the city of our God, and even I may help to fill that stream." Not in so many words did my sick neighbour speak her thoughts, but her visitor received this lesson, all unconsciously to the invalid. Useless? No. Idle? No. In that retirement God still has a work for her. The bright smile cheers her visitor, and tells of the inward peace and sustaining power; while the eager mention of "the good work," together with utterance of names of one and another recently converted, and of others still subjects of special prayer, showed the impelling power of love. Still onward: working yet; although seemingly inactive. Yea, "helping together by prayer;" helping those upon the fields of more active Christian labour, and working with them even now. Cheering CHILDHOOD IN JAPAN. the hearts of the labourers, strengthening the hands of her pastor, speaking a word to the young or careless who may come to her retreat, this happy invalid still works and does her little part towards accomplishing the fulfilment of her daily prayer, “Thy kingdom come. Oh for such a spirit of unfaltering, untiring love, which drinks daily from the pure and inexhaustible fountain, and which flows forth spontaneously-not by constraint or necessity, but with a joyful alacrity-in an unceasing effort for the highest good of all within its sphere. CHILDHOOD IN JAPAN. WHEN he is three years old, the Japanese youth is invested with a sword belt, and four years later with two diminutive swords, if he belong to the privileged class. The child's head is shaved until he is about four years old, and then three black patches are grown, one at the back and one at each side. On this occasion the record of ceremonies ordains that "a large tray, on which are a comb, scissors, paper, string, a piece of string for tying the hair in a knot, cotton wool, and a bit of dried fish or sea-weed, which accompanies presents, one of each, and seven rice strawsthese seven articles must be prepared." In another year's time the child is put into the loose trousers peculiar to the privileged class, and he is then presented with "a dress of ceremony, on which are embroidered storks and tortoises (emblems of longevity; the stork is said to live a thousand years, the tortoise ten thousand), fir trees (which being ever green, and not changing their colour, are emblematic of an unchanging, virtuous heart,) and bamboos (emblematic of an upright and straight mind.)" Soon after the child has reached its fifteenth year a fortunate day is chosen on which the forelock is cut off; and at this period, being considered a man, he is entrusted with swords of ordinary size; and on this occasion, in particular, great family festivities and rejoicings take place in honour of the auspicious event. The lad then comes of age, and casting away childish things, adopts the dress of a grown-up man in every particular. Japanese youths are said to be quite equal to the occasion, and, even at this early age, to adapt themselves most readily to the habits of manhood. At the stages in his life to which we have alluded to, the child has a sponsor, and certain wine-drinking customs and prescribed festivities have to be carefully attended to. Some Japanese must have a string of names awful to contem THE BIBLE IMMORTAL. plate, if strict custom be always adhered to; for, besides the name which he receives shortly after his birth, Humbert tells us that he "will take a second on attaining a majority, a third at his marriage, a fourth when he shall be appointed to any public function, a fifth when he shall ascend in rank or in dignity, and so on until the last, the name which shall be given him after his death, and inscribed upon his tomb-that by which his memory shall be held sacred from generation to generation."—All the Year Round. THE BIBLE IMMORTAL. IN the year 303, when that last great effort was made by the Emperor Diocletian to extinguish the Christian name, he sent, on the 23rd of February, his legions to the great church of Nicomedia. When the doors were forced open and the soldiers entered, they searched and searched with diligence, but they searched in vain for any visible symbol of the Deity whom the Christians worshipped. No banners, no crucifixes, no images of the saints were to be found in any part of the building, noble though it was, and towering as it did, as historians tell us, above the very palace of the Cæsars. But as they searched they fell upon one recordupon one object on which they proceeded to vent their bitterest vengeance. They lighted upon the Scriptures of truth. They committed the Bible to the flames; and we all know, my friends, that that last great effort of Satan to use Pagan Rome as an instrument for annihilating Christianity was simply directed to the extermination of the sacred book. Now, it strikes me that there are two very important lessons here. In the first place, do we not learn from the anecdote, or rather does not this anecdote remind us, that the true test-the primitive test of the Christian Church-is the sole supremacy of the Holy Scriptures of God? But there is another lesson to be learned from that little anecdote which I venture to bring to your memory, and that is, that Satan was wise in his generation when he bade the emissaries of Pagan Rome direct all their efforts to the suppression of the Scriptures. You will remember that all the edicts that were fulminated at that time ordered the demolition of the Christian sanctuaries; that they called for the degradation of officers even in the highest posts of trust about the Imperial person, if they held and professed the Christian faith; but the virulence of all this animosity was directed against that little book which has for so |