Newspaper Page Text
AEfZ PO MO OAI VMM V NAD S
by Do F. BRADLEY &Co0 PICKENS, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE3,18.VO.X O ,
TeRnessee will not make a large wheat
The peanut crop of Tennessee will be
Gaa in Nashvilie is furnished at $1.75
per thousand feet.
A company is organizing to manufac
ture cars in Selma, Alabama.
St. Augustine, la., has a surplus of
$2,740.87 in cash in her treasury.
A fisherman at Pensacola caught ICOO
red sna pe fisl centlf.
Selma, Alabama, has a population in
its corporate limits of 7,529.
The mayor of Montgomery, Ala., re
ceives a salary of $1,000 a year.
Western corn has killed a number of
horses and mules in Alabama.
B'y loWest estimate Mr. Davis h as al
ready 'mrade $100,000 on his book.
Boston capitalists are investing $300,.
000 in a cotton factory at Vicksburg,
Baltimore capitalists have invested
$1,500,000 in a Davidson county, N. C.,
Two hundred thousand young shad
have just been placed in the Congaree.
The colored people of Abbeville, S.
C., have - formed a life insurance asso
Yellow fever was not known in Mex.
ico until 1725.
Volusia county, Fla., has the largest I
orange grove in the world-1,000 acres.
Mr. Herzler, of Madison county, Ala- a
bama, clipped 1,400 pounds of wool f
from 252 sheep. r
The sales of leaf tobacco in the Lynch
burM:Va., warehouse for the present
year aggregate 13,297,307 pounds. t
An apple tree in LaGrange, Ga., has
two or three apples tpon its trunk.
There is not a sign of a twig or branch, t
but they are growing upon the bark of
A letter from Southern Florida de
scribes a flight of white butterflies from N
the South that has filed the air like I
snowflakes for six days, going North. a
A little nine-year-old boy at Center, N
Ala., killed his uncle, named Brooks, F
by hitting him on the head with a rock.
The uncle had wipped the boy, and the
young reprobate took this means of re- i
Nine tenths of the babies. b~orn in e
Oglethorpe county, Ga., this year are E
4bo~ys., This rule also applies to animals.
The males are und(eniably on top this
year. This preponderence of :oex is said g
to) be sign of coming var. I
The spongers of Key WVest are making
money. The Democrat says there were ]
over $2 ,,00 worth of sponges on the ]
wharf there one day last week.
The Atlanta Constitution says there i
are many lunatics wandering around the 1
country, because of the inadequacy of ~
the present accommodations at the Lun
Georgia Paper: The press of (Geor
gia is a unit i-'m the cause of temperance.
The boys differ somewhat, however, in i
their Ideas as to the proper mode of g
attacking the hydra-headed monster. C
'We are for killing him with kindness '
and coercing him by persuasion. Choke
a dog to death with butter and lie won't a
know what killed him.
The San Antonio Express says: Last
wee~k was a good week for killing con- I
victsi who attemp)ted to escape, though
three were laid out instantly and two
4others mortally wounded. When it ap
pears to be almost certain death for a
convict to attempt to escape it seems
strange that the attempt should be0 so
frequent. To remain must be almost
worst than death tc a good many.
The Pueblos of New Mexico believ'
that at death they will be carried awa
in some mysterious manner to a place
4 eneath a vast underground take, where
melons and peaches and benitfiul maid1
ens andl horses and in never-enntingt sup)
ply for the good. .Not withstanding all
-these inducements, some of the Pueblos
are as depraved as if they had been born
in the United St'atus.
The editor of Paris North Texan thus
defines his position on the liquor ques
tion: ,We are not a chronic ternper
ance'cotd irr a' chnreh member. We
are a rough, wielged man, and we have
drank twhisky, periodically, all our life
until last year, when,, recognizing the
duues of a father, remembered that we
.J re responsible for our example, we quit
the acp.ursedl practice, and we are in for
the war against the traffie--..not those
who sell and drink it
I found the loveliest spot on earth
Where sweet and odorous blooms had birth;
I olad my hands for very gladness:
oody," [said, " to ills and sadness,"
When lo, there sprung from out the green
A hideous imp upon the scenel
I cned. " Dread form, what is your name?"
In mocking tones, the answer came
I fled unto the nearest town:
Here I resolved to settle down,
'Mid dirt and grime, 'mid dust and mortar
Myself, my wife, my son and daughter.
The people crept about like snails,
Or lgging ships bereft of sails.
" Whai the matter here?" I cried,
And many a trembling voice replied
From out the fated town we spea;
We climbed the mountains; overlead,
Where the proud eagle builds her nest,
We pitched our tent to take our rest.
One morning, bright with eastern gold
1 woke, and cried, " I'm hot;" " ['m cold -"
"I burn;" " I freeze." " What can it be?'1
The answer came from crag and tree
The doetors, now, who lack the skill
To diagnose each pain and ill,
To this one thing they all agree,
No matter what their school may be:
With " Hem I" and " Haw I" and look profound
Your tongue they scan, yotur lungs they sound.
And then exclaim " My friends, tutl tutl
.Your case, I find, is nothing but
I've chartered now a big balloon;
I hope to occupy it soon.
If " It " comes there to ache my bones
And waste my flesh, when 'neath the stones,
I hope my better part may soar
To somne fair land, some golden shore,
Where I may never hear the cry,
That hatunts me like a ghosti sigh
-Mrs. M. 4. Kidder, in Baldwin's Monthly.
ONLY ONE FAULT.
You may see it in Greenwood ceme
ery. 'A splendid tombstone with a
roman's name upon it. Not Ruth Holly
--though that is the name under which
rou shall know her-but a prouder
tanie, and one you may have heard.
vowers grow about her tomb, and the
urt lies softly over it. You would
carcely gess her life and its sad end
a you stood there. Rather would you
ancy that love and tenderness sur
ounded one over whom such piles of
culptured marble rears itself from her
>irth unto her death.
It is a story such as I seldoin write
his life of hers-one that can not be
inded by happy reunions and the sweet
ound of marriage bells; but there are
oo many such stories in the world to
>e qmietly passed over, haply there be
bny warning in them. The lives of others
,re, if we read them rightly, the best
ermons ever preached, and this of Ruth
lolly's is only too true. Yet it began
Fery sweetly, like some old pastoral
oem. She loved and was beloved again,
nd the man she loved had only one
ault. He was young, he was brave, he
vas witty, he was handsome, he was
,enerous; his love was devotion, his
riendship no. lukewarm thing of words;
ie had great talent and great power.
lis eloquence had thrilled many an au
trence worth the thrilling. at he
.rote touched thesoul tothe very quick.
le was an amateur painter and musician
nd everywhere was loved and honored
ud admired. He had only one fault in
he world--he drank too much wine at
imes. When he did so he turned, so
aid convivial friends, into a very demi
od. It was wrong, but not so bad as
aight have been, and he would sow his
vild oats some day, they said, loving
rm as his friends all loved him; and so
tuth though~t. Sweet, loving, beautiful
luthi, to whom he had plighted his troth
nd wooed in verse and song and with
tis most eloquent eyes long before he
>ut his passion into words; but so did
tot think Ruth Holly's father. This
'no fault of Edward Holly's over
hadowed his virtue in his eyes, and
ea refused him his daughter's haud,
iving him the reason why plainly and
"You'll be a drunkard yet, Ned
lolly," said the old man, shaking his
ead, earnestly. "I've seen men of
~emus go the same road before. I've
f ten said I'd rather have no talent in
ny family, since it seems to lead so
urely to dissipation. My sons are not too
irilliant to be sober men, thank heaven,
ud as for my daughter, only a sober
nan shall have her for a wife; you'd
>reak her heart, Ned Holly."
So the dashig man of letters felt
uimiself insulted and retorted hotly, and
he two were enemies.
Ruth suffered bitterly. She loved her
ather, and she loved EdwardL To disobey
ier parent,- or to break her lover's heart,
eemed the only choice offered her. Shes
lad other loviers, she had seen much
ociety, and had been introduced to the
liest circles in France as well as in
[England, but amongst all the men she
ad know anone pleased her as Edward
Elolly did. Not what one styles an in.
tellectual woman herself, she reverenced
intellect, and her affections were in
bense. The struggle in her heart was
Shec met with her lover by stealth,
tgainist her father's will, but for a long
while she resented his entreaties to
marry him in defiance ~ her father's
refusal. At last, angered uy her per
sistonce in obedience, Edward accused
her of fearing to share the fortunes of
rmne comparatively poor-one who must
carve his own way up life's steep hill
without assistance. The unmerited re
proach sunk deeply into her warm heart,
sua in a sudden impuli of tenderness
and sympathy she gave him the promise
hie had so long sought in vain. They
were married that evening, and before
morning were upon their way to a far
off city, where Eward, sanguine and
conscious of power, believed that he
s~hould make for himself a name and
position of which any woman might be
proud. To her father Rith wrote a
long letter, imploring isa forgiveness,
but the answer crushed all hope within
''As you now sow, so must you reap,"
were the words her father wrote. "I
have no longer a daughter," and Ruth
knew that henceforth (for she had been
motherless for years) she had in all the
world only the husband for whom she
had sacrificed fortune, and what is worth
far more, the tender protection of a
In those early days Edward did his
best to make amends for all, and she
was so proud of him and so fond of him
that she soon forgot to grieve.
She heard his name uttered in praise
by all. She knew that he had but to
keep steadily on, to mount to the proud
est seat in fame's high temple, and for a
year she had no fear of his faltering.
Now and then a feverish something in
his voice and manner, a strange light in
his eyes, a greater flow of eloquence in
his talk, a more passionata demonstra
tion of love for her than usual, told that
he was under the influence of wine, but
the fact only seemed to enhance his power
of fascination. Never was he so brilliant
never so handsome. Almost could Ruti
have laughed at the sermons preached
by the temperance folks of the harm sure
to follow wine-drinking.
If the story could end here, the true
story of Ruth Holly's life, it'would be
almost a happy one, but alas, the sunny
slope adown which it seemed so easy to
slide, daily grew darker as the years flew
on. How they began to tell her the fate
before her, Ruth hardly knew.
A little flush of shame came first when
his step was unsteady and his voice too
loud. Then a grieved tear or two when
he was unreasonable. Then a sorrow
that kept her heart aching night and
day, for the man who first won inspir
ation from the glass now lust it in its
depths; lectures to be delivered were not
given to the expectant public because
"of the illness of the lecturer."
Ruth know what that illness meant,
and tried to hide it. Literary work was
neglected also. Money was lost that
might have been easily won. Debts
grew and credits lessened, the handsome
suite of rooms was exchanged for one
quite shabby. Ruth's dress became
poverty-stricken, her husband was out
at the elbows and at the toes-he was in
toxicated from morning until night, and
yet she loved him and clung to him,
and in his sober moments he loved
her as fondly as ever. Sometimes
the old strength and the old
hope would be aroused in him
and he would struggle to regain his
lost position, but it was all in vain,
rum triumphed, and in five years from
her wedding day Ruth found herself
with her onto remaining child, the first
having died within a year of its birth. in
the dingiest of wretched tenement
houses, in a state bordering upon beg
Edward had been more madly intoxi
cated than ever before; he had even
given her a blow, and now, as the night
wore on, he muttered and raved and
called for brandy, and cursed her and
himself until she trembled with fear.
At last, as the clock struck 10, he
started to his feet ,and staggered out
of the room, vowing to get drunk some
Poor Ruth stood where lie had left herT
for a few moments. The memory of the
past was strong on her that night. Just
at this hour five years before they had
fled from her father's home together.
How tender he was, how loving,
how gentle ! How lie vowed that
she would never regret that night, and
how had he kept those promises ? He
had broken every vow-he neither cher
ished rUtr protected her. His worldly
goods he had given to the ravenous de
mon, drink, his love had become a some
thing scarcely worth having, and yet
she loved him and clung to him. She
tried to feel cold and hard toward him,
but she could not; she strove to remem
ber the blow he had given her, the oaths
he had uttered, but she answered herself
as she did so, "It was not him who did
it-it was rum." She listened to the
uncertain, reeling footsteps in the street
below and burst io tears.
"My poor darling," she whispered, as
she thought some grievous calamity had
smitten him into the thing he was, and
he had not himself "put an enemy in his
mouth to steal awvay his brain," unmind
ful of her pleading, unmindful of her
woe and of her shame. She thought of
him reeling helplessly along the street,
and feared that some harm would come
to him. Ho might fall in some out-of
the-way place and lie there undiscovered
and so freeze to death that bitter night,
and in her agony of terror poor Ruth
could not restrain herself from following
Her poor weakly baby slept; she
wrapped it in a blanket and laid it in
its poor cradle. Then she threw her
warm shawl over her head, and hastened
down the street, busy this late Saturday
night with market-going people of the
A little way before her reeled the
handsome, broad-shouldered figure of
her husband, and she, a lady bred and
born, fastidious, elegant, accomplished,
reared in luxury, heard poor laborers'
wives warn their children to beware of
the "drunken fellow."
She heard course laughs at his ex
pense, and under the shadow of her
shawl her cheek burnt hotly, but for all
that she never thought of going back
and leaving him to himself. As soon as
Rihe could she gained his side and called
to him by name:
Heturned and stood unsteadily look
ing at her in a bewildered way.
"You?" he said. "You ought to be
at home this time of night."
"So ought we both," said Ruth.
He threw her hand off.
"I'm my own master," he said. "I'm
not tied to any woman's apron string!"
and staggered away again, Ruth follow
ing through the long streets with every
face turned toward them as they passed
-some laughing, some contemptuous,
some terrified; out at last upon the
wharves, and there the besotted man sat
down more stupefied by the liquor he
had swallowed, in that fresh, cold air.
Ruth was thinly clad-the chill of the
sea-blast seemed to reach her very heart.
She thought of the babe at home and
tears coursed down her cheeks. Again
and again she pled with the mad man
at her side. Again and again she tried
to bring to his mind iome lingering
memory of the past days when his love
and protection had been hers. In vain.
Wild fancies filled his brain, demons
born of the fumes of rum held posses
sion of his senses. Sometimes he thrust
her from him, sometimes he gave her a
mandlin embrace, and bade her brin
him more liquor, but go home he would
not. The distant hum of the city died
out at last, all was still with the strange
stillness of a city night. The frosty
stars twinkled overhead. Now and then
a night boat passed up the river, with
measured beat and throb. Once a ruf
flanly-looking fellow sauntered past
them on the pier, but though lie flung
her an insolent word and yet more inso
lent laugh, and went away singing yet
more Insolently, he did not approach
them. So benumbed had Ruth grown,
so cold to the very heart was she, that
the power of motion had almost deserted
her, when at last, as the church clock
not far away tolled the hour of four, the
degraded man staggered to his feet and
reeled homeward. She followed feebly.
and only by clinging to the balustrade
could she mount the wretched stairs. It
was bitter cold within as without, but she
was glad to find herself at last under
shelter. Her babe still slumbered and
she did not waken it. Her frozen bosom
could only have chilled the little crea
ture. There were a few hits of broken
wood in one corner, and with these she
made a fire in the old stove and crouched
over it, striving to gain some little
warmth, while her husband slumbered
heavily upon the bed in the corner,
to which he had staggered on his en
Thus an hour passed by, and Ruth
also fell asleep. The silence, the pleas
ant warmth at her feet, the fancy that
all her trouble was over for the night,
lulled her to pleasant dreams. From
them she was awakened by the loud
ringing of the factory bell and by the
sound of cries and shouts in the street
below. She cast her eyes toward the
bed-her husband was not there ? to
ward the cradle-it was empty. She flewv
to the window-the street was full of
factory boys with their tin kettles. Some
great jest amused them mightily. They
roared, they danced, they tossed their
ragged caps on high, they shrieked in
unmusical langhter, and the object of
all this mad mirth was only too evident.
On the steps of the liquor store op
posite stood Edward Holly, holding his
child in his arms and exhibiting for the
benefit of the delighted crowd all those
antics of which an intoxicated man alone
is capable. He called on the grinning
master of the gin-cellar to "give this
child (some brandy;" and turned the
screaming infant about in a manner that
left no doubt that he would end by drop
ping it upon the broken pavement.
Wild with terror Ruth rushed out into
the street, and made her way through
the crowd to the spot where her husband
stood, but before she readhed him the
scene had changed.
Some boy more brutal than the rest
had thrown a handful of mud into Ed
ward Holly's face, and he, reeling and
blaspheming, had dashed forward to re
venge the act.
The child had been flung away at the
first step, but fortunately had been
caught by an old woman who, though a
degrade d creature herself, had enough
of the woman remaining to save an in
fant from injury.
And now the whole horde of boys beset
the drunken man, pelting him with
sticks and stones and decayed vegetables
from the kennel, and reveling in the
brutal delight with which such a scene
always seem to inspire boys of the lower
Ruth saw that her babe was safe and
that her husband was in danger, and,
forgetful of all else, flew toward him.
She cared nothing for the jeers of the
mob; before thcm.all she fhmng her arms
about him and interposed her beautiful
person between him and his assailants.
Tfheh head that had carried itself a little
prouly in the presence of the highest of
the land-that had seemed more queen
like than that of the Empress herself at
the court of France-that had awakened
the envy of titled English women when
the young American woman dwelt
among them-dropped itself low upon
the bosom of the drunkein wretch who
was the jeer and scorn of a low mob, and
only in love and pity, not in anger, did
she speak to him:
"Come home, Edward! They'll hurt
you, my poor love! come home with me."
Mad as he was-filled with the demon
of drink, to the exclusion of the soul
God1 had given him--the soft, sweet
voice, the fond touch of the white fingers,
awakened some memory of the past in
the man's breast.
"Go on home, irl!" he whispred,
"I'll kil them? Don't fret. I" kill
"Come home, darling," she whispered
agam, and he stopped and gave her a
kiss. At that the boys yelled derisively,
and flung more mud and stones at them.
One threw a stone-a heavy stone, sharp
pointed and jagged. Whether he ever
intended to strike the man is doubtful,
but the missile flew fiercely through the
air and crashed against the golden head
of the devoted wife. A stream of blood
gushed from the white temple and poured
down upon the bosom where it dropped
never to lift itself atain-never. never
more. Only with a quivering shudder
of pain she felt for the face of the man
who had sworn to love and cherish her,
and had broken that vow so utterly
while hers had been so truly kept.
"Good-by, Edward," she whispered.
"I can't see you now-kiss me. O be
good to baby! Be good to baby!" and
no word mora.
The crowd was hushed to silence. A
sobered man bent over the dead woman,
whose hands had dropped away from his
breast, and the love and truth and ten
derness of her heart were all manifest to
him in that terrible moment-manifest
in vain, for repentence could not restore
her to life, nor blot out the, love which
had crushed her heart through all those
weary days of her sad married life.
"What is the matter here?" cried a
voice, as a portly man forced his way
through the crowd. " A woman hurt?"
"A woman killed," said the policeman,
"and that brute is the cause of all," and
the gentleman bent forward and started
back with a cry of anguish.
" It is Ruth I" he said. " My Ruth! "
and fell back into the policeman's arms
in a deathlike swoon. Forgiveness and
repentence had come alike too late for
poor Ruth Holly. Her father could give
her nothing but a grave.
The child born amidst want and pen
ury, nourished by a half-starving mother,
pined away and died in the luxurious
home to which its grandfather bore it;
and now, as the old man sits alone in his
splendid home, he sometimes hears a
strange, wild cry in the streets outside,
through which a drunken creature reels
and staggers, howling ever and anon,
"Ruth ! Ruth ! Ruth !"
It is Edward Holly, who ever in his
drunken madness searches for his mur
dered wife. It is the pitiful, horrible,
heart-breaking wreck of the once splen
didly-beautiful man of talent, who had
only one fault. -Mary Kyle Dallas.
An Incident of the Blockade.
A correspondent of the Boston Adver
i8er, discussing the subject of color
blindness, relates the following as coming
under his own experience when em
ployed in the blockade of the port of
Wilmington, North Carolina, during the
war of the rebellion: "The ships on
blockade duty got under way at sunset,
and at dark moved to their regular sta
tions, some going well in toward Fort
Caswell and others further off, keeping
under low steam and in a specified beat.
Tro prevent as far as possible our own
ships from mistaking and firing into each
other, each supposing the other a block
ade runner, as did happen more than
once, my own ship getting three 24-pound
shells from one of our own vessels, a
system of challenging and answering sig
nals by showing or flashing ared or white
light was established. As we all knew
the station or beat of each ship, we could
usually tell with tolerable certainty what
vessel was sighted. But, to prevent ac
cidents, it was the rule for any ship
doubting to challenge by showing the
challenging signal for that particular
night. If no answering light was shown,
or an incorrect one, the challenger had a
right to fire. One night my own ship
was challenged. We were so near that.
all hands on my vessel knew well what
ship made the challenge. We answered
by showing a red light for three or four
seconds. Again we wore challenged and
again we answered as before. All hands
were at quarters. Almost immediatelyI
after our second answer the lock-string
of the 100-pounder rifle on board the
challenger was pulled, the gun, pointed
directly at my ship, happily missing fire.
Before the gun could be reprimed we
were made out, andl no harm done. The
next (lay an interview was had with the
commander of the challenging ship, and
he was informed by me that his chal
lenges were correctly answered, I my.
self seeing it done. W~hy our answers
were not seen by his ship could not be
made out. He informed me, however,
that he had been many months in com
mnand of his ship, and never before had
that gun missed fire."
What Mamma Said.
The young woman who, with her lover
and little niece, sat in the shadow of the
curtain while the company was in the
room adjioining, had a good dleal of pres
ence of mind when the niece said very
loud, "Kiss me, too, Aunt Eth l." "You
should say kiss me twice, or me two
times, not two," saidl Aunt Ethel, calmly.
It is to be hoped that the well-known
English "beauty lady" was equal to the
occasion, also, when an elderly and emi
nently respectable gentleman made an
afternoon call, and, as elderly gentlemen
often do, he took the child and kissed
her. "You must not do that," said the
child, struggling, "I am a respectable
married woman!" "What do you moan,
my dear? ?"asked the astonished visitor.
"Oh, that's what mamma always says
when the gentlemen kiss her!" replied
the artless infant._
Anvrer, given to gay Lotharios by M.
Aureliani Scholl: "Whenever you write
a letter to a married woman date it
'April 1.' Then, if the husband finds it,
clap him on the shoulder, point to the
date, and Ray with a buirst of laughter:
*Fooled again, old fellow.''"-Fiar,.
A cABmN was first built to a vessel in
KrrcIENs in South America have been
known to be furnished throughout with
uwinsilis made of silver.
"VoLUMMoITY" and "funipotent"
are two new English words which have
just appeared. The last is applied to
spiritualists in Pollock's " Spinoza."
A NEw safety lamp for miners emits a
loud sound whenever an explosive mix
ture of gas and air enters it, thus giving
warning of the presence of fire-damp.
THE favorite day for marriages in Paris
is Saturday, on the morning of which
there may be seen on the streets landaus
and barouches with white horses driven
with white reins.
IF A girl has pretty teeth she laughs
often, if she's got a pretty foot she'll
wear a short dress, and if she's got a neat
hand, she's fond of a game of whist, and
if the reverse, she dislikes all these small
IT is related that a California pioneer,
seeing a Chinaman coolly draw a "navy
six" and shoot a white ruffian neatly
through the abdomen, exclaimed with
much earnest enthusiasm: " Them Chi
nese is takin' on Christian ways surprisin'
YOUNG man, don't be afraid that lion
est, legitimate overwork will shorten
your days. It is better to wear out in a
home, built up by your own efforts-at
the age of sixty-five, than it is to rust out
in the poor-house five years later.
Wnrrr1ER says that the first money he
ever earned was paid for a copy of
Shakespeare, and that it proved to be
the best investment he ever made. "The
long years since," he adds, "have only
deepened my admiration of the great
A MONTREAL thief had thrown a bun
dle of goods out through the rear window
of a store, and would have followed in
safety, had lie not stopped to read a par
agraph which caught his eye in a news
paper lying on the counter. The delay
caused his capture.
RALPH NIcKLEBy was a hard, cold,
selfish man, without a grain of generous
impulse. Newman Noggs was a kind
hearted man, without a grain of self in
his composition. Nickloby was rich;
Noggs, poor. The one was a wise man;
the other, a fool. Question for debate,
Which was the happier of the two?
IN CHINA literary property is on the
same footing as other property. A per
son printing and selling the works of an
author without his permission is liable
to a punishment of 100 blows of the bam
boo and three years' deportation. If he
has stopped short at prilnting and not
begun to sell, the penalty is fifty blows
together with the forfeiture of books
and blocks for which it is intended to
" DEAN" IUcHANAN tells in his con
fession of a fortune-teller in Philadel
phia who reads destiny hv the light of a
candle made of hunran fat, of a doctor
who goes to Europe annually andl brings
back love-powders, which he represents
are compoundled at the shrine of Cupid,
in Minerva's temple, and of a concern'
which sells the pulverized gizzard of a
chicken as a compound to produce arti
THE site of an ancient camp of Indians
at Cambridge, Mas., has for many yeairs
been occupied by a Baptist Church. f The
spirits of the red men haunt the spot
because they cannot rest under the wrong
done them by the whites, and three times
they :have burnmed the meeting-house.
On each occasion an Indian war-whoop
was heard, mingled with the crackling of
the flames. Old residents tell this story
with great solemnity.
Men may inquire solemnly and with
many a doubt whether any other world
than this awaits the human race ; but,
once admitting~ a second life, the dark
cloud of punishment must be seen on
that remote horizon. There can be no
second life without a memory of the
events of this career. It is the chain of
memory which makes a resurrection from
the dead possible. If a person should
arise from the grave and have no con
sciousness of ever having lived before,
that would be no second life only in a
most trifling and unjust sense. Dr. Ed
ward Beecher once published quite a
volume to show that man is now in his
second world, and at death will pass to
his third and last, But if we have most
utterly forgotten any such first life this
is made our first existence by the very
fact of such forgetfulness. If we did all
live once before in this planet or in some
other planet, that fact has been forgot
ten with an amazing uniformity and
thoroughness. Memory makes this our
first life. A thousand volumes from all
the wise men of all nations could not in
tervene, with their learning and lo-.
qjuence, and oppose the simple evidence
of memory in this strange case. It is
your first world. Your memor can
pick up its twenty or thirty or fot its
sixty years, and can hold them all in or
grasp and say I once lived one of those
summers andl winters. We can all look
at that bunch of faded flowers and say I
saw them when they were fresh and
beautiful. This recollection is, there
fore, that mental attribute which alone
will make possible a resurrection from
the dead. The only immortality that
can be thought "f is, therefore, one
which can look back upon this first ex
perience of being. Unles, friends shall
know each other, there will bb no meet
ing of friends, for take away the recoogni
tion and all else is empty. Thusi the
future world awaits wholly upon mem
ory-the creator of immortaity.-Prgf.