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YOL. 27. ^ YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1881. NO. 7.
JU ?rigwal Jtotg.
^ Written for the Yorkville Enquirer.
L THE LADY OF LINTON.
BY WALTER MORGAN.
CHAPTER XIV.
When Miriam recovered from her death*
like swoon, after being carried hack to her
bed on the night of her visit to her husband's
"room, she gazed fearfully around her, as if in
/ expectation of seeing some dreaded object.
Theu looking earnestly at the nurse, who
sto ul anxiously watching her, she asked iu
an apprehensive tone ?
"Where is it? What have you done with
it ? Is it g ne ?
"There's nothing there, dear lady," sooth
i-i.i <.?P! ? ?_ ....u . i..
ingly repnea me nurse. " meres uuuuuv in
tl e room but only me! Sec!" and she drew
back the lace drapery from the head of the
bed that her patient might the better satisfy
herself of the truth of her assertion.
"But it was there," rejoined Miriam ; "or
did I see it somewhere else ? I know you are
deceiving me."
"Indeed and I am not," emphatically answered
the nurse. "What would I deceive
you for? Ain't I put here to take care of you,
and would I let anything come to trouble
you ?"
"Ah ! but over such things you can have
no power. Listen!" Miriam lowered her
voice almost to a whisper, and clasped the
attendant's wrist as she spoke. "I tell you
'twas from the spirit world. It was nothing
of fieSh and blood. Didn't I see it plainly?
just as plainly as I see you now ? It stood?
no, sat. I remember'twas sitting?and turned
its head, and fixed its eyes upon me?
thus!?and moved its hand, as if to touch
me. O, it will come again?it's coming now !
I see it! Save me?save me!'' And shudder
ing violently, she hid her face, while holding
the nurs-'s wrist in a convulsive clutch, as if
afraid to let her go.
That functionary?Mrs. Netherby by
name?decided within herself that her pa
tient must have seen, or fancied that she saw,
something during her nocturnal ramble, which
had made so vivid an impression upon he>fancy.
She used all her endeavors to sooth
Lady Hepburn's excitement, but the idea
which had fixed itself in the mind of the latter
was not to be banished. She kept con
stantly recurring to the recollection of what
she had seen, asserting that it was a spirit
sent to warn her of her approaching doom.
"I kuew 'twould come some time," she
said, "and dow the time has come. All these
years I have dreaded it?have thought of it,
and dreamt of it, and waited for it! I have
seen it sometimes?in the dead of the night?
when all was darkness and silence around
me; but then not plainly, not in reality.
'Twas only a foreshadowing of what was to
come. It was changed, too. Its hair was so
gray ! Does the hair turn gray in the spirit
world ? Tell me, do uot spirits remain always
young ?''
* "Lord save us! my lady ! I don't know
nothing about spirits," rejoined Mrs. Netherby,
uncomfortably. "You must talk to the
minister about such things."
"The minister! What minister? Not him?
not Cyril. He has left me?poor boy I Poor
boy ! it's far better that he has gone. I shall
never see him again, no, not here nor hereafter,
for lie will go among the good and pure
when he dies. Will I see my husbaud after
death?after my death? Or will the gulfj
between us be too wide ? Ah ! there's torment,
torment waiting for me. See the flames?the
cruel, cruel flames ! They light up the vault
that was so dark. Now you can look down I
Down, down, so deep?as deej) as Hell! He
is there?at the bottom. He never even
groaned. He is quite dead. Do you see his
bones? Look, look quick and tell me. I'm
sure there can't be anythiug left now but
bones, after so many years. Rats?are there
rats down there ? Ugh, the horrible things !
How they spring and crawl! Poison for the
rats?poison for my soul. Yes, poison! And
there's no autidote. It's eating my soul away.
Is it poison, or is it rats?rats from the dark,
dark vault, gnawing and tearing at me? Ob
Heaven, what pain ! wfiat torture ! There is
no salvation?none. Take them off?take
them off! Oh pity, pity me, whoever you are.
Rub that word out that's blazing before me
there in the flames. See, see how the letters
dance up and down ! Murder?that's what
they spell! Rub them out?rub them out!"
"She's worse than ever," muttered the at
tendaut to herself. "I never heard her mix
up so many things together before. It would
be a comfort if I had some one to be with
me in the room?it's awful louesome here. I
never was in such a lonely house before as this
seems to be. No relations, 110 frieuds, nor
nothing?not even the servants seem to come
around. There, there; my lady, don't fret so.
Turn over and try to take a little sleep. Can't
you just shut your eyes and keep quiet a
bit?''
After some hours, during which the doctor
came twice, finding his patient in a very critical
state, her ravings ceased, and a stupor,
the result of total exhaustion, ensued. Dr.
Purdie declared this to be the crisis of her
disease. Before another day dawned her fate
would be decided.
"Will she get better, Doctor, do you think?"
asked the uurse.
"I c-au't say, my good woman. The odds
are against her; but she has a powerful constitution.
Watch her carefully, aud if any
change occurs send for me at ouce. However,
it's not likely that there will be any before
I return. In an hour or two I'll be here
again."
All through that long day, Miriam lay as
1 if dead. The fever had left her, and with it
was gone all the fictitious strength with which
it had endued her. White as the white drapery
of her couch, with worn, wasted features,
and deep purple rings about her closed eyes,
she lav utterly prostrate, without motion,
without any sign of life. The nurse believed
lu r to be dying. The doctor, at one time, believed
so, too.
But she did not die. With the dawn ol
the next day, the crisis passed ; consciousness
returned, and she opened her eyes, once more,
rationally upou the world which had so nearly
slipped away from her grasp.
All that now remained to be done was tc
build up her wasted strength. But though
she had no relapse, and her convalescence
soon seemed assured, she was a prey to a mel
ancholy so deep, so profound, that nothing
had any power to remove it.
"It's because she's so lonesome," the nurse
suggested, when talking to Dr. Purdie on the
subject. "She's got nobody to cheer her up
poor soul. When folks have been ill, the}
need a little cheerful company to amuse them
or they'll never get their spirits back."
"We'll have Lady Hungerford here to se<
her," said the doctor. But Lady Hungerforc
was not at home?she had gone off on a visii
to some relatives in town. There was no
another soul in the parish who was on suf
ficiently friendly terms with the invalid t<
care to come to her at such a time.
One night, as Mrs. Netherby, who nov
felt privileged to indulge herself a little, wa
napping 011 a lounge near the bed, she wa
awakened by bearing her name faintly called
"Yes, my lady," she cried, starting up
"What is it I can do for you ?"
"Do you know of an old servant in thi
house?a very old woman?named Priscil
la?" Miriam asked.
"I've seen an old woman, my lady ; small
and bent, with very gray hair, and walking
with a crooked stick. Is it she you mean ?"
"Yes ; I suppose she's the one. Can you
j bring her to me ? I want to see her."
"If I can find her, my lady. I don't rightly
know where her room is. Will I go look
for her now ?"
; "Yes, now. I want to speak to her at
once."
Shiveringly f-nd reluctantly?for the night
, was chilly, and the lounge, with its wooleu
rugs, very comfortable?Mrs. Netherby
wrapped a shawl about herself and started
on her quest. Following, as well as she
could, the direction she had taken on the
night when she had gone to bring Lady Hepburn
back to her room, she managed, after
i several false turnings, to reach the corridor
leading to old Priscilla's room. As she approached
the latter she saw, to her surprise,
through the crack of the door, that a light
i was still burning ; and when she knocked her
j summons was immediately answered by the
I old woman herself.
j "Is your name Priscilla?" asked the nurse.
"Aye, it is that. What do you want of me."
"Lady Hepburn is asking for you."
"For me t" rejoined Priscilla, incredu
lously.
"Yes ; she wants you to come her at once."
j The Lord preserve us! Is she in her right
! mind C
| "To be sure she is," answered the nurse,
I testily; for she had not forgotten the lecture
the old woman had bestowed on her on the
! occasion of Lady Hepburn's escapade, and
was disposed to be resentful. "I can't stay
; here talking all night. Shall I tell her you
; are corning, or not ?"
"You needn't trouble yourself to tell her
j anything. I'll be there before you have time
to talk much," was Priscilla's grim retort.
Mrs. Netherby hurried back, and informed
Lady Hepburn that the old woman would be
there directly.
"Stay," said Miriam. "When she comes, I
wish to speak to her alone?quite alone. I
have something of importance to ask her."
"Certainly, my lady."
"You will please go into the next room,
and lock the door; and when I want you
| again I will ring the little bell that stands on
the table near me."
"Certainly, my lady."
"You'll find a sofa in there. You can lie
down and rest yourself until you hear me
ring."
"Very well, my lady, and thank you."
This arrangement was scarcely completed,
ere Priscilla arrived. Mrs. Netherby duly
retired, and Miriam, finding that she and
Priscilla were alone, signed to the latter to
come near the bed.
"You know," she began, when the latter,
obeying the sign, had drawn close to her,
"you know that 1 have always hated you,
and that you have hated me as well. Is not
this true?"
-- ? i * ?? -1 ? /* 1 _
"Aye, my lady, was me oriei repiy.
"Well; it is not from any love toward you
that I have sent for you now. But I have
been very ill lately?at the point of death ?
and have had strange doubts which I want
you to clear up."
"If I can, my lady."
"Do you swear to me, whatever I shall ask
you, to answer me only the truth ?"
"I have never yet told a lie, Lady Hepburn.
It would shrivel my lips now to utter
one," was the lofty reply, as the old woman
drew her bent figure up.
j "Sit down," said Miriam, pointing to a
chair. You are too old to stand."
I "No, my lady, I'm not too old to stand, if
[ you please."
"Do as you like. Answer me now?and
remember, before God, you are not to deceive
j me?do you know what happened to my hus!
band, Sir Roland Hepburn, over ten years
j ago?when he disappeared ?"
"I do know," unhesitatingly answered
Priscilla.
Miriam shuddered. "How do you know?"
"I was there at the time, and saw."
{ "Do vou know whether he lived or died ?"
"1 do."
"Is he living now ?"
"He is."
"Where is he?"
Priscilla paused before replying.
"I cannot tell you that," she presently said.
"Why not?"
"Because I've sworn not to."
"You know where he is, then ?"
Again the old dame was silent.
"J see that you do. Well, you must take a
! message to him from me. One night I had a
! strange vision. I thought I was walking
about somewhere, in this house, and came to
a room that I had never been in before; and
there I saw him sitting beside a table reading.
He turned round and looked at me, full in the
j face. I don't know what followed ; but his
j image has been present to tuy mind ever since.
| I know, at the time, I thought it was his
ghost; but now I think differently. I believe
! that it was my husband himself, actually,
I whom I saw ; and I believe he is in this house.
j I cannot rest until I see him again."
"What do you wan't of him, my lady ?"
A doubt, a suspicion, which she could not
resist, made itself apparent io Priscilla's look
, and tone.
Miriam laughed?a short, bitter laugh.
"Do you thins I would try to injure him
j now ? Look at me. Look at these hands,"
; and she lifted h.;r wasted, trembling fingers,
j which dropped again at her side. "Is there
strength enough in them, do you suppose, to
harm any one, even if I chose to try ? Bej
sides, let me tell you, old woman, since I saw
I you last I have been in torment?aye, the
torments of the damned. The memory of
j the past has consumed me like a fierce, never
i dying flame. It still consumes me. It is
| destroying my life, and will destroy my
, reasou beforehand, if I can't atone in some
?way. I want t"4 see my husband, to assure
! myself that he > really alive and well, and?
I and?to ask his forgiveness."
The last won , spoken with an effort, was
j barely audible; and Miriam, exhausted from
| talking as muci as she had done, turned aside
! her head and ley with closed eyes in silence,
f Odd changes, odd contortions, passed in
i; rapid succession over the old woman's wrink,
led features. Whether caused by doubt, sat*
isfaction, amazement, at what she had heard,
or a disbelief that she had heard rightly, it
) would not be easy to decide. She muttered
i something to herself, at the same time raising
; her eyes and crossing herself on the breast?
she was a devout Romanist?and finally, afj
j ter a long reflective pause, rejoined?
"Well, my lady. I'll find a way to let Sir
; Roland Hepburn know what you'.ve said, and
i I'll tell you, afterwards, if he's filling to
, come. If so be that the Lord ha3 really
r touched your heart with repentance, why, we
, must he thankful to Him for his mercy, which
does show itself in sudden aod unexpected
i1 ways. Shall I go, now?"
1 "Yes," formed itself, rather than was utt
tered, on Miriam's pale lips,
t Still muttering and ejaculating to herself
Priscilla hastened with trembling steps to
) her own apartments. In the inner one ol
these she found her master, waiting in anx
t ious expectation for her return, for he was
s aware of the summons she had received,
s | " Well?" he eagerly exclaimed as she entered
.{ "Well, ma>ter Roland, jewel, it's strange
>. news I'm bringing you. Maybe the Devil
i has got tired of working his wickedness st
s | long. Anyhow, I've a message to you from
- your wife to go to her. She wants to speak
I with you."
"With me!" #A deep flush swept over the
' baronet's pale face. "She knows, then, that
i I am living?" he asked in husky tone9.
"Aye?she'd guessed it before; and I
' couldn't disguise the truth."
"And she wants me?summons me of her
own accord. Heavenly Father, I thank
1 Thee!" exclaimed Sir Roland, devoutly raisi
ing bis eyes. "Oh Priscilla, have I not often
i told you that a day would come when the
dreadful past would be cancelled, and the
I breach between us be healed ? I knew that
i her heart would not always remain obdurate,
j I will go to her at once. Is she prepared for
i my coming?"
"I told her I'd let her know when to ex!
pect you. Better let me go first."
"Go, go then, quickly, my good nurse. Ask
i her if I may come without farther delay."
i "Suppose you follow after me, master Roland.
That will be the best way."
A minute later found them both at the door
! of Lady Hepburn's chamber, Priscilla entered,
while her master, trembling with anxI
; 1 r.. _ < ?...
leiy, remtuneu uuisiue. hi a icn iuuiucuu
she returned, and bade him go in.
With noiseless steps, his heart throbbing so
violently that he could scarcely breathe, the
baronet entered and approached the bed.
Miriam, lying white and still, gazed at him
as he drew near. Her eyes, looking larger
i and darker from the contrast with her thin,
I colorless face, shone like luminous stars, and
; something of fear mingled with the eagerness
j of their gaze. Silent and trembling, he sank
j upon his knees beside the bed. It was thus,
j after ten long years, they met again.
[conclusion next week.]
lllisccllHttcims Reading.
NEW TESTAMENT CHANGES.
FAMILfAR TASSAOES AS THEY READ IN THE
REVISED EDITION.
The revision of the New Testament, which
was beguu under the direction of the Convocation
of Canterbury ten years ago, was completed
last October, and the uew version is
now in print, although it has not yet been
given to the public. The work is the result
of the deliberations of two committees, one
of fifty learned Biblical scholars in England
and one of thirty in this country. The two
committees did not meet together and take
joint action, but corresponded with each other
and compared notes, and, as a general
thing, were able to agree upon the proper
reading of the texts. In cases of disagreement,
the text of the British committee is
used, but the reading of the American committee
is given in an appendix, so that the
reader or student has before him both translations.
The only copies of the book in this
country are those which have been sent to
members of the American committee, of
which the Rev. Dr. Phillip Schaff is the president,
aud they are pledged not to-shpw them
to any person, or give any informatiqp as to
the changes made in the texts of the King
James version, until the new version is formally
approved and adopted by the Convocation
of Canterbury. Dr. Schaff said last
week that the Convocation would meet early
in February, and, as soon as it approved the
version, the revised New Testament would be
given to the world. The Aiuericau committee
has taken out no_cppyri^bt ou the book,
a ml ttio intention is to crice if. to the nuLlio
?*..? WMV .w -w CJ- - # r~
free, as the old Bible has been given. In a
very few days at furthest, if the Convocation
approves of the revision, the book will be
published, aud everybody will then be at liberty
to compare it with the old version.
Notwithstanding the precaution taken by
the two committees to prevent any portions
of the revision from being brought before the
public before its formal adoption )>y the Convocation,
the main features of the work are
known to the religious world. Copies of the
book were sent to Church of England papers
to be used in preparing reviews, a strict injunction
being laid upon the editors against
printing any portion of the text or any review
of the book before the action of the
Convocation. The London Record disregarded
this injunction, and published a review on
the 7th instant, quoting liberally from the
work to show where and in what manner the
text had beeu changed. The following week
the Record apologized for this publication,
saying it was the result of a mistake; but
the apology could not recall the passages
which had been made public, so that the main
features of the revised New Testament are almost
as well known to churchmen in Europe
today as they will be after the book is published.
Those who iraagiued that any of the
accepted fundamental doctrines of Christianity
were to be overturned by the work of the
committee will find themselves greatly mistaken.
In very few instances has any text
been changed so as to alter the meauiug
which attached to it in the King James versiou,
and in still fewer instances is the change
material from a doctrinal point of view. As
a general thing, the changes consist of the
substitution of the present for the past tense
in the verbs, the use of the indefinite article
in place of the definite, and the changing of
prepositions. In several instances verses have
' been omitted altogether, but as a general
j thing the omission detracts nothing from the
! sense of the lesson. As an example of this,
Mark ix : 43-46 may be cited. In the pres|
ent version the verses read as follows :
"43. And if thy hand offend thee, cut it
off*: it is better for thee to enter into life
maimed, than to have two hands to go into
| hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched :
"44. Where their worm uieth not ana me
fire is not quenched.
"45. And if thy foot offend thee, cut it off:
i it is better for thee to enter halt into life,
1 than having two feet to be cast into hell,
into the fire that is never quenched."
"46. Where their worm dieth not and the
fire is not quenched."
Verses 44 and 46 in the above are entirely
i omitted in the new version, but verse 48 of
the same chapter, which is in. precisely the
| same words is allowed to stand. The work
j is arranged in paragraphs, and the chapters
j and verses are printed in the margins. The
i familiar head lines to the chapters which
J serve so well as a means of reference are exj
puuged. This will make the book seem
! 6trange to the ordinary Bible reader. The
,! text of each Gospel is thus made continuous
I in the body of the book from the beginning
to the end. and in order to find the subdi
visious with which one has been familiar,
the margins must be consulted. The work
of trsyjslation has been very faithfully per
formed, and the committees have adhered
j scrupulously to the idioms of the original
i j language, instead of adopting the English
: idiom, as the public was led to believe that
11 they would do. The result is that the work
i ! is very scholarly, but the text is not so plain
I as it might have been made by a freer translation.
The changes, on the whole, are not
of a character to create any alarm in the
mind of Christians. Not a single accepted
, j truth has been eliminated, and no special
II doctrine of the Church is assailed.
f | Among the more striking changes may be
I noted an alteration in the Lord's Prayer, as
i | rendered in Matthew, vi, 9-13. In the new
J version the doxology is entirely omitted, and
. i the Prayer reads thus : "Our Father, which
; | art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy
1 ! kingdom come. Thy will he done, as in
? Heaven, so on earth. Give us this day our
i daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we
; also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us
not into temptation, but deliver us from the
Evil One." The prayer as recorded in Luke
xi, 2, 3, 4, reads as follows in the revised
book : "Father, hallowed be Thy name. Thy
! kingdom come. Give us day by day our
j daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for
; we ourselves also forgive every one that is
| indebted to us. And lead os not into terapi
tatiou." In Matthew iv, 5, where the temptation
of Christ is related the old version
says: "Then the devil taketh Him up into
j the*holy city and setteth Him on a pinnai
cle of the Temple." In this verse "a pinna|
cle" is made to read "the pinnacle," and the
! change is manifestly proper, since there
I was only one pinnacle to the Temple. Very
' many of the alterations are precisely of such
I nature as this, the definite article being sub
substituted for the indefinite and vice versa.
| Matthew, vi, 1?"Take heed that ye do not
I your alms before meu"?is made to read,
| "Take heed that ye do not your righteousness
J before men," which is looked upon as a much
broader command, and more in accordance
with the whole spirit of Christ's teachings.
In Matthew, xix, 17, the entire meauing of the
text is changed, but no new doqtrine is put
forth, and no old one assailed. In the King
James version the verse reads. "Why callest
thou me good ? There is none good but one
that is God. But if thou wilt enter into life,
keep the corarnaudmeuts." In the new version
the verse is as follows: "Why askest
thou me concerning that which is good ?
One there is who is good ; but if thou wouldst
enter into life, keep the commandments."
The question in Mark, viii., 36, 37, "For
what shall it profit a man if he shall gain
the whole world and lose his own soul ? Or
what shall a man give in exchange for his
soul?" is rendered: "For what doth it profit
a man to gain the whole world and forfeit
his life? For what should a man give in
exchange for his life?" In Luke, ix., 35,
j "And then came a voice out of the cloud,
saying, "This is My beloved Sou ; hear liitu."
[ The new work reads, "And then came a voice
out of the cloud, saying, "This is my Son, My
chosen."
In speaking of Capernaum, Christ said, as
recorded in Luke, x, 15, 16, of the accepted
version : "And thou, Capernaum, which are
exalted to heaven, shall be thrust down to
hell. He that heareth you (speaking to His
disciples) heareth Me, and he that despiseth
you despiseth Me, and he that despiseth Me
despiseth Him that sent Me." The committees
have changed this passage very materially.
It reads: "And thou,Capernaum,shalt
thou be exulted uiAo heaven ? thou shalt be
brought down unto Hades. He that heareth
you heareth Me, aud he that rejecteth you
rejecteth Me, and he that rejecteth Me reject
eth Him that sent Me." Luke xvi, 8, 9, have
also been materially changed. In the present
version they read : "And the Lord commend
ed the unjust steward because he had done
wisely ; ior me cnnuren or tins wona are, 10
their generation, wiser than the children of
light. And I say unio you, make to yourselves
friends of the mammon of unrighteous
ness, that when you fail they may receive you
into everlasting habitations." In the revision
these two verses read as follows: "And the
Lord commended the unjust steward because
he had done wisely. For the sous of this
world are, for their own generation, wiser
than the sons of the light. And I say unto
you, make to yourselves friends by means of
the mammon of unrighteousness, that, when
it shall fail, they may receive you into eternal
tabernacles." in tne parame ot .Lazarus
and the rich man, as told in Luke, the
word "hell" is changed to Hades, so that the
verse reads: "And in Hades he lifted up his
eyes, being in torment." Without having
the entire revision to examine, it is lmpossioie
to say whether the word "hell" is expunged
in every instance where it occurs, and the
members of the committee in New York refuse
to give any information on the subject,
but here are two cases in which it is stricken
out, and the presumption appears to be that
the old hell of our fathers has beeu abolished
by the committee on revision.
The story of the Pool of Bethesda, as told
in John v, is materially changed by taking
from it that portion which relates to the miraculous
powers of the water of the pool. In
verse 3?"In these lay a great multitude of
impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting
for the moving of the water"?the last
seven words are stricken out, and verse 4?
"For and angel went down at a certain season
into the pool and troubled the water; whosoever
then first after the troubling of the
water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever
diseuse he had," is omitted altogether.
Acts,xi, 49, "And the Lord added to the
Church daily such as should be saved," is
made to read, "And the Lord added to them
day by day those that were beingsaved." In
Acts, viii, 37, "And Philip said, if thou believest
with all thine heart thou mayest. And
he answered and said, I believe that Jesus
Christ is the Son of God," comprising the
eunuch's profession of faith, is expunged, as
is also the expression, "Let us not fight against
God," in Acts xiii, 9. In Acts xvii, 23, "For
as I passed by and beheld your devotions I
found an altar with this inscription: To the
unknown God. Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly
worship, Him declare I unto you," the
latter part is made to read, "To an unknown
God. What, therefore, ye worship in ignorance,
that declare I unto you."
In the trial of Paul before Agrippa, re
corded in Acts xxvi, some rather important
changes are made iu verses 24 to 29 inclusive,
and the impression that Agrippa was
almost persuaded to become a Christian by
Paul's eloquence is dispelled. The verses in
the present version are as follows: "And as
he thus spake for himself Festus said, with a
loud voice: Paul, thou art beside thyself;
much learning doth make thee mad. But he
said. I am not mad, most noble Festus, but
speak forth the words of truth and soberness.
For the King knoweth of these things, before
whom also I speak freely; for I am persuaded
that none of these things are hidden from
him ; for this thing was not done in a comer.
; King Agrippa, bclicvest thou the prophets ?
j I know that thou believest. Then Agrippa
| said unto Paul, almost thou persuadest me to
be a Christian. And Paul said, I would to
j God that not only thou, but also all that
i hear me this dav. were both almost and alto
j gether such as I am, except these bonds."
! In the revised version this scene is described
! thus: "And as he thus made his defence,
j Festus saith with a loud voice, Paul, thou art
mad ; thy much learning doth turn thee to
madness. But Paul saith, I am not mad,
most excellent Festus; but speak forth words
of truth and soberness. For the King knoweth
of these things, unto whom also I speak
; freely ; for I am persuaded that noue of these
i things is hidden from him ; for this hath not
! been done in a corner. King Agrippa, believest
thou the prophets? I know that thou
believest. And Agrippa said unto Paul,
with hut little persuasion thou wouldst make
! me a Christian. And Paul said, I would to
j God, that whether with lit tie or with much,
j not thou only, but also all that hear me this
j day, might become such as I am, except these
| bonds."
The above examples of the text of the rej
vised New Testament, which have been given
to the public in advance of the meeting of
the Convocation of Canterbury, give a fair
idea of the character and 6cope of the ten
years' work, which has been done by the two
I committees in England and America. The
book will probably be published within the
next month, and it is said that a cheap tencent
edition will be among the first giveu to
the public. But little doubt is expressed by
any member of the committee that the convocation
will approve and adopt the new version.
Whether other churches than the
Church of England will accept it is a question
to be decided in the future.
GARFIELD AS A FINANCIER.
[From a Washington Letter.j
Many people, who ought to know better
seem to be imbued with the idea that Gen.
Garfield is a plain, straightforward man, utterly
unversed in the arts of diplomacy.
That this is a mistaken view of his character
is proved by the following authentic ouecdote
told me to-night by one of his intimate
friends:
A year ago last autumn, when the Legisla
ture, which afterwards elected Gen. Garfield
united states senator, was in process or nomination,
a tall, ungainly young man, bailing
from Ashtabula county, called at Mentor one
day and asked lor the general. After the
compliments of the season had passed, the
visitor, whose name was Thorp, joyfully informed
his host that he had just been nonii
nated by the Republicans of his district for
a seat in the lower house of the Legislature,
and that if elected he would vote "first, last,
and all the time for Garfield for senator."
The General naturally expressed great
pleasure at Mr. Thorp's good fortune and applauded
his choice for senatorial honors, at
the same time assuring his visitor of his earnest
hope that the Democrats would not sue
ceed in carrying that particular district.
"Have no fear of that," said the enthusiastic
Thorp; "I will work like a beaver from
now until the election day, and am bound to
win. All I need is a little money to pay my
election expenses, and I thought I'd just run
over and ask you to lend me $300; that will
fetch me through all right."
Inasmuch, as Gen. Garfield was already
aware of Thorp's tendency to borrow and
forget, he was a good deal nonplused by this
sudden request, but immediately and truthfully
replied that he had not that amouut of
money on hand, and hence could not make
the loan. "It would indeed afford me great
pleasure to accommodate so good a friend as
you, Mr. Thorp," but I have only fifteen
dollars about me. I would gladly aid you
in any way in the world, and if you want
what I've got you are welcome to it."
He thought that this would end the conversation,
but his surprise may be ouly faintly
imagined when Thorp, swelled with gratitude
for the kind assurance of the the General's
willingness to assist him, and grasping
bis' hand, said:
"I thought of all this before I came, Gen
eral and when in Cleveland I enquired at
the bank, and they told me that they would
discount my note for 8300 if you would endorse
it. Your friendly words convince me
that you will help me through. I have a
note already drawn and have signed it my
self ; all it needs now is your signature to
get the money and ensure my election to the
Legislature and yours to the Senate of the
United States." Gen. Garfield saw that he
was in for it. After assuring his visitor that
he would do anything in his power to aid him,
he could not possibly refuse him so simple a
thing as his autograph ; so he took the note
somewhat ruefully, led the way into his
study, aud sat down at his desk. He seized
a pen, dipped it into an ink bottle, and seemed
just on the point of writing his name.
I I 11 mmm?L ?J r> nl> n J? 4 ? ?*hr?ri?j ??ru\] I^t?y
suddenly said : "Thorp, don't you see this
would ruin us both ? You are a candidate
for the State Legislature, and lama candidate
for the United States Senate. Two
thirds of the directors in this bank are Democrats,
aud if they ever got hold of a note
signed by us two, they would use it for our
destruction."
Do you think there would be dagger?"
gasped the thoroughly frightened Thorp."Certainly
there would be danger," replied
the General; "but," continued the narrator,
"Garfield afterwards, in laughingly
? l J il- i it 1
telling tnis story, explained mat me .reai
danger he feared in the matter was "that
Thorp would forget to ever refund the money.
Gen. Garfield," continued my informant, "regards
that feat as the only brilliant financial
performance of his whole life."
Some of the able gentlemen now seeking
the General's endorsement of their draft on
the public crib may fiud that the cunningness
which saved him from the remorseless friendship
of the thoughtful Thorp, may enable him
to evade their earnest entreaties as easily for
a similar reason.
THE LABOR QUESTION.
The scarcity of labor is attracting considerable
attention throughout the State, and
many persons are casting about for relief.
State Senator B. F. Crayton, of Anderson,
who has had some experience with white labor,
in a recent conversation with a reporter
of the Nem and Courier said:
I think it was about five years ago that ?I
got out the first immigrant to work on my
farms in Anderson county. I first got one
man and his wife from Castle Garden, and
next season I brought out from Germany
his children and eight other immigrants.
The following season I brought out fifteen
or twenty families, who are now located on
my places and the places of my neighbors in
Anderson county. I secured these latter
through Maj. Franz Melchers, who forwarded
the tickets, and the immigrants were
landed at New York with the exception of
the last arrivals, who were landed at Baltimore
and thence went to Anderson by way
of the Air-Line Railroad.
The cost of transportation from Germany
to New York or Baltimore, is about 830 per
immigrant. From New York to Anderson,
n m l . ? _ ? A1K J
ny way or unariesion, me rare is cio, ami
from Baltimore by way of the Air-Line
Railroad, the cost is $10.50. Arrangements
have recently been made by Mr. Melchers,
however, by which the cost from Charleston
to Anderson has been fixed at $2.60. I advance
the money for their expenses all the
way and not a single oue has failed to remain
with me and work out his indebtedness. I
pay them for their work on an average of 812
a month for males, aud $6 a month for females,
and out of this they find themselves.
The wages are about the same as are paid
for negro laborers and the quality of the work
is better. They are as fine ploughmen as I
have ever seen. The women hoe cotton very
well indeed. They work a little slow but do
the work well, and make expert cotton picki
ers. My experience with them is that they
stand the climate perfectly well, remain remarkably
healthy and keep their homes and
themselves strikingly cleanly. They are
constant workers and expect but three holidays
in the year, Christmas, New Year's Day
and good Friday. I have both Protestants
and Catholics on my farms, the latter being
of Polish descent. They have for the most
part come from Posen, a province of Prussia,
included in what is termed Prussian Poland,
and lying mostly between the latitude 51? 30'
and 53? 30' north, and longitude 15? 30' and
-19? east, and having an area of 11,178 square
miles. The population in 1875 was 1,606,084,
of whom two thirds are Roman Catholics.
I have at present about twenty of these
immigrants iu my employ, and I suppose
there are as many more working on the
farms of my neighbors. They have remained
more contentedly and I have had less trouble
with them, than any class of laborers I have
ever had to deal with. They all read and
write German, and the younger ones acquire
English with facility. I look upon these immigrauts
as the very class of people we want
here in South Carolina to supplement our
negro labor. I do not think they will supplant
the negroes, but there is an actual scarcity
of labor, and there is ample room for
thousands of them. They are thrifty and
economical, and have a tendency to strike
out for themselves as soon as they have accumulated
a little property. In this way we
) secu re the services of first class laborers for
; jeveral years who, by their own exertions,
elevate themselves to good and prosperous
citizens. Where persons propose to bring,
these immigrants from Germany, they are required
to give notice by the 24th of June of
their intention to leave, otherwise their landlords
can hold them. I expect to get out several
families more this season, and a few will
arrive this sDrine.
ERRORS IN MARRIAGE.
MaDy of the errors of life admit of remedy.
A loss in one business may be repaired
by a gain in another; a miscalculation this
year may be retrieved by special care the
next; a had partnership may be dissolved, an
injury repaired, a wrong step retraced.
But an error in marriage goes to the very
root and foundation of life. It has been said
no man is utterly ruined until he has married
a worthless wife; and so every woman has a
future before her until she is chained, in wedlock
which is a padlock, to a wretched and
unworthy man. The deed once done cannot
be recalled. The wine of life is wasted and
the goblet is broken, and no tears and toils
can bring back the precious draught. Let
the young think of this, and let them walk
carefully in a world of snares, and take heed
to their steps, lest in the most critical event of
life they go fatally astray.
But here we must guard against another.
Many people think they have made a mistake
in marriage, when the mistake is only in
their own behavior since they they were married.
Good husbands make good wives, and
good wives make good husbands; and the
scolding or intemperate or slatternly partner
often has but himself or herself to blame
for the miseryjthat clouds the life and desolates
the home. Multitudes who feel that their
marriage was a mistake, and who make existence
a life-long misery, might, by a little
self-denial, and forbearance, and gentleness,
and old-time courtesy, make their home
brighten like the gates of Eden, and bring
back again the old love that blessed the hapnv
cnlden Hrvb cone bv.
I" J o ~ J - O ?J Suppose
the wife does not know quite so
much as you do; well, you showed your great
judgment when you thought her the chief
among ten thousand ! Or, if your husband
is not the most wonderful man in the world,
it simply illustrates the wit and wisdom of the
young woman who once thought he was, and
could not be convinced to the contrary ! So
perhaps you are not so unevenly matched after
all; and if one has had better opportunities
since married, then of course that one
should teach and cultivate, and encourage the
other, and so both journey on together. But
if one has grown worse and sunk lower than
at the beginning, perhaps even then patience
and toil and sunshine may bring back the
erring one to duty, lift up the fallen, rescue
the perishing, and save the lost. How glorious
for a wife to pluck her husband from
the jaws of ruin and bring him safely to the
heavenly home! How blessed for the husband
to bring back to the gates of paradise
* Ua utAAxAn. uikn. tKrAimk - Kail Kaon .
led astray.
???
THE LAND OF PALESTINE.
Palestine sits in sackcloth and ashes.
Over it broods the spell of a curse that has
withered its fields and fettered its energies.
Where Sodom and Gomorrah reared their
domes and towers, that solemn sea now floods
the plain, in whose bitter waters no living
thing exists?over whose waveless surface the
blistering air hangs motionless and dead?
about whose waters nothing grows but weeds
and scattering tufts of cane, and that treacherous
fruit that promises refreshment to
Sarching lips, but turns to ashes at the touch,
fazareth is forlorn. About the ford of Jordan,
where the hosts of Israel entered the
promised land with songs of rejoicing, one
finds only a squallid camp of fantastic Be
douius of the desert; Jericho, the accursed,
lies a raoldering ruin to-day, even as Joshua's
miracle left it more than three thousand years
ago; Bethlehem and Bethany, in their poverty
and their humiliation, have nothing
about them now to remind one that they once
knew the high honor of the Saviour's presence;
the hallowed spot where shepherds
watched their flocks by night, and where the
angels sang, "Peace on earth, good will to
men," is untenanted by any living creature,
and unblessed by any feature that is pleasant
to the eye.
Jerusalem itself, the stateliest name in history,
has lost all its grandeur, and is become
a pauper village; the riches of Solomon are
no longer there to compare the admiration of
Oriental queeqg; the wonderful temple which
was the pride and glory of Israel, is gone,
aud the Oriental crescent is lifted above the
spot where, on that most memorable day in
the annals of the world, they reared the holy
cross. The noted Sea of Gallilee, where Roman
fleets once rode at anchor, and the disciples
of the Saviour sailed in their ships, was
long ago deserted by tbe devotees of war and
commerce, and its borders are a silent wilderness
; Capernaum is a shapeless ruin ; Magdala
is the home of the beggared Arabs;
Bethsaida and Chorazin have banished from
? -?*1- ? ? J w\?vn/? oKnnf
me eaitu, uuu iijc ucocn piav.cs <wuuu u?uuv
them, where thousands of men once listened
to the Saviour's voice and ate miraculous
bread, sleep in the hush of a solitude that is
inhabited only by birds of prey and skulking
foxes.
Palestine is desolate and unlovely. And
why should it be otherwise ? Can the curse
of Deity beautify a land ?
Palestine is no more of this work-day
world. It is sacred to poetry and traditionit
is a dreamland.?Mark Twain.
Tiie Lord's Prayer.?When the elder
Booth was residing in Baltimore, a pious, urbane
old gentleman of that city, learning of
his wonderful powers of elocution, one day invited
him to diuner, although always deprecating
the stage and all theatrical performances.
A large company sat down at the
table, and, on returning to the drawing-room,
| one of them asked Booth, as a special favor to
them all, to repeat the Lord's Prayer. He
signified his willingness to gratify them, and
all eyes were fixed upon him. He slowly and
reverently arose from his chair, trembling
with the burden of two great conceptions.
He had to realize the character, attributes
and presence of the Almighty Being he was to
addros3. He was to transform himself into a
poor, sinning, stumbling, benighted, needy
suppliant, offering homage, asking bread, pardon,
light and guidance. Says one of the
company who was present, "It was wonderful
to watch the play of emotions that convulsed
his countenance. He became deadly pale, his
eyes turned trembling upward, were wet with
tears. As yet he has not spoken. The silence
could be felt; it had become absolutely
paiuful, until at last the spell was broken as
if by an electric shock, as his rich-toned voice
syllabled forth, 'Our Father, which art in
heaven,' etc., with a pathos and fervid solemnity
which thrilled all hearts. He finished;
the silence continued ; not a voice was heard,
nor a muscle moved in this wrapt audience,
until, from a remote corner of the room, a
subdued sob was heard, and the old gentleman
(the host) stepped forward with stream
ing eyes aDd tottering frc.rae and seized Booth
by the hand. 'Sir,' said he, in broken accents,
'you have afforded me a pleasure for
which my future life will feel grateful. I
; am an old man, and every day, from my boyhood
to the present time, I have repeated the
Lord's Prayer; but I never heard it before,
never.' 'You aro right,' replied Booth, 'to
read that prayer st it should be read, caused
me the severest study and labor for thirty
years, and I am far from satisfied with my
rendering of that wonderful production.
Hardly one person in ten thousand comprehends
how much beauty, tenderness and grandeur
can be condensed in a space so simple.
That prayer itself sufficiently illustrates the
truth of the Bibl i, and stamps upon it the
! seal of divinity.'"?The Alliance.
A M0N01P0LT *IN CORKS.
The cork business is a very large and
{>rofitable one, and, like many others, is wholy
under the control of an association called
I the Cork Manufacturers^ Union. This union
I r?/\f amIw fonnlofoo fko rwxnck Knf D17A onH
UVU VU1J 1 tgUIUbVO IllIU |/? IW| vuv tuv Si?V Ui<??
length of corks, even determining discounts to
all buyers, and giving in its circular a list
of those dealers and jobbers who are entitled
to special discounts. It goes further, and
says that no corks should be sold on longer
terra of credit than sixty days; that none
should be sold to druggists in New York,
Philadelphia, Boston, Albany, Troy, Portland,
or Providence, or to bottlere anywhere
on a longer term of credit than thirty days.
This ageement is entered into for the purpose
of protecting both the importers and manufacturers
in their endeavors to promote the
best interests of the cork business. Before
the union was formed the larger manufacturers
cut prices to such an extent and sold
so low that smaller manufacturers could not
live. Prices are twenty-five per cent, higher
than formerly, owing to the rise in raw material,
or natural corkwook, but as prices are
as numerous as the sizes aad shapes of corks,
it is impossible to give them. The use of
cork increases very rapidly. Heretofore the
refuse cuttings were thrown away, but now
every piece, large or small is utilized. Prom
the clippings is made linoleum, a kind of floor
cloth. Other refuse is granulated and used
in packing fruit. Shavings, or curled cork,
goes into the mattresses, which are very cool
in summer and more so in the winter.
The great use, however, to which corkwood
is put is for bottle stoppers, and in this it supersedes
all other substances. The cork tree
is a species of oak called Quercus suber. It
grows abundantly in the south of France,
Spain, Algeria and in some parts of Italy.
This country's supply comes from the Atlantic
side of France and from Portugal. Corkwood,
so called, is the bark of the tree which
it?the tree?throws off, the first time when
about twenty years old, and every nine or ten
years afterward. The tree is said to live 150
years.
Paper Boxes Substituted for Tin.?A
few years ago a process of paper-box manufacturing
was invented, which has since placed
paper, the rival of so many materials, in the
position of a strong rival of tin in packages
for certain articles of commerce. Previous
to this invention the great objection to using
round paper boxes for small packages, when
tin was commonly used, was that the covers,
beiDg in two pieces (a disk ana a rim), were
not durable or safe enough to fill the reouireineuisoi
XTeqiremr mmuiftng-.?ouQel tneiiew
process, the heads or covers of the box are
"drawn" from a single piece of straw board,
so that not only is there no separating of a
disk from the lim by use, but there is no seam
through which the contents of the box can
find its way. The body of the box is cut
from paper tubes, made of several thicknesses
of a light weight of straw board or heavy
straw paper. Almost any desired diameter
or length of box can be made. The heads
are made of a heavy straw board, from what
is known as No. 90 to No. 50, or heavier, if
desired, and are "drawn" under a peculiar
process, with great; rapidity. One of these
heads is fastened ;to the bottom of the bot
another of the same kind is adjusted to the
top, not fastened, and the box is complete.
? < _i J I:_.J _.:iL C
? or tnese a siraw noaru uueu wuu inm;jr*wiored
paper can be used ; oftentimes a tin-foil
paper is selected, in which case, with the body
of box covered with a label, the package resembles
a handsome, solid tin box. The boxes
have been introduced into a great variety of
uses, where, on account of cheapness, they
have already superseded tin. Large quantities
are used with and without water, air and
grease-proof preparations, in packing such
articles as chloride of lime, paris green, putty,
tar, seeds, etc. The same principle is applied
to the manufacture of small pill boxes Bnd
toy-paper cap boxes, the latter being known
now by "Young America," almost to an entirety,
as his chief Fourth of July delight.
This class of boxes is made with astonishing
rapidity, as can be imagined from the fact
that they are sold, by the thousand gross, as
low as 7 and 8 cents a gross.
The Hair of Prominent Men.?In this
feature, writes the New York correspondent
of the Rochester Democrat, N. P. Willis and
Horace Greeley were entirely dissimilar.
Willis bad long and beautiful ringlets,. of
which he was very proud, while, as is wellknown,
Greeley became bald early in life, the
base of the head being merely fringed with
gold. We may note that many of our best
writers or public men were in a similar condition.
Washington Irving wore a wig half
of his life time. William Lloyd Garrison was
well known for his smooth pate. Wendell
Phillips has only a few scattered silver locks.
Ralph Waldo ' Emmerson keeps bis head
cropped closely. Such, also, was the practice
of the late Charles Sumner. It may be
urged against long-haired men that not only
Willis (who was a rake) was thus adorned,
t?..* ~ 1o? 4l,a mnnnotoo rif tVlo Ttmntlvn SCRn
UUIl a IO*/ blio UJ(?gUI?WO VA vuv ? ?
dal, (Beecher and Tilton) are also of the long
haired class. Theodore Parker, on the other
hand, was bald, and so was John Qnincy
Adams. The late Chief Justice Chase was
much in the same condition. Speaking of
fashion, it may be saifl that the ancient
Greeks wore their hair long, while the Egyptians
cut it off, and wore light wigs. In
France, at one time, short hair was the style,
and in the reign of Louis Quatorze it was
worn of prodigious length, and was done up
in a lofty manner. Tho hair fashion of New
York, at present, deserves more space than
can just now be afforded, notwithstanding the
importance of the theme.
Mother Shipton.?A writer says that
Mother Shiptop.'s prophecy that the world
will come to an end during the coming year,
or soon thereafter, created a great stir in the
newspaper world. Professor Hall of the National
Observatory has been interviewed upon .
the subject and says that it is the first time he
has been made aware of the impending danger.
He had seen somewhere a statement
"that the comet of 1812 was to return about
that time, but we know nothing certain. Indeed,
it is impossible to know anything positive
about comets. We can only observe
snch a small portion of their immense orbits
that we cannot estimate their return with exact
precision; but the likelihood of its falling
into the sun or striking the earth, even if it
did return, is infinitely small."
"Do you think the earth will ever be struck
by a comet ?"
"There's jast about one chance in millions
and millions that snch a thing will come to
pass, and if it did, in my opinion, no one need
fear the consequences in the least."