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,-ii- -5s i'tPV X.?IICIIn ----, -ay,. - ?.K-5- -JA.-jr-5-P MC--7TX,-sn5' ICST i "t- rV .a'vN1' --''-' v - a-" - - -. ""S'.ifc.j, 'i - - saw""" -"- S- . t2 - ".A " -- 3HX LEAVENWORTH WEEKLY TIMES LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1877. ' Elttbll,bed-o"'24.-Ho.37j f ConserraUTe Established y 1D.K. Anthony, January, iscx 42lMMa aiimM THUKSD-eY. DECEMBER 27, IS77 XII E LAST SENSATION. u. ,t,..,l,t whether there has been any- ,, , uuvk ..- thine since Luther's time that created a more profound sensation in ecclesiasjcal circles than "the new departure" on the subject of eernal punishment, set forth in Jfr. Beecher' sermon last Sunday of w hich a full synopsis is given in our supplement this morning. At the "Old Orchard Coun cil," of Congregational Ministers, a few weeks ago, the fact was developed that a large number of the preachers of that de nomination had "serious doubts" on the subject, and many of them -a majority, in fact, of the whole number invited, de clared that they diil not preach the doc trine. That eminent Episcopa lian (anon, Kanar, of Ijigland, in two sermons deliveicd recently to large con- crecai.ons in Westniin-ler AbU-v. IwMly avowed an litter .lisbelief in tl.- doctrine of eternal torment, as commonly tatight from orthislox pulpits. 'Was there any human being" he a-ked, "worthy if the dignity of a human Iwing, who did not re volt and sicken at the notion of a world of worm and flame " Tlie words, "hell," "daiun-ttion" and "everlasting," he stid, ought not to Aland any longer in the Eng lish bible, and if the revisers did their duty all three would lie stricken out. While he could not preach the doctrine of uni versal salvation as a certainty, he found it hiipjKiried by many pas sages of sacred writings, as well as taught by noiue of the early fathers. That a vat majority of the lost would finally be found and saved, he firmly lie-lit-vcd and unhfsitatiiigly taught. This is very re markable I-inguage from a ("anon of the Church of England, and we are not sur prised lo learn that all England is talking about this clergyman's utterances. But it has Iwen kft to Mr. Beeilur to take the luixt advancesl ground on the subject, and in his sermon above referred to, he iii-cs the most isiweiful language at his command, with which to denounce and utterly repu diate the doctrine. He says that such a doctrine could UamJi.rm the Almighty in to a monster more hedious that even Satan himself is siipiss-td to lie, and he declares that he cannot and will not believe it. He says mtn may tell him that he will not go to heaven if he doesn't Is-lieve it, and he answers : A heaven presuh-d oirb) such a demon as that, who has h-en issiplliig this world wittl millions of hum in Is-lnp, and then sweepinc Hi. moll Into Ik II, not like il.:ul ri i. -. hut w Ithout taking I he trouble i-vi n to kill I In in, and cloatiin: nnil luchlusoer theireternal misery,' ""' such " heaven a I want 1 1 uoto. Thedoolrln U tMt hoinhle I cannot lsllee It anil I Aim't. TO. n.1 thevdntsln heaven arr-o hupio fiat they do not mind the tor menUif the l nulled lu tiell, hut what sort ofkaVits must thej Is w lm could is-happy while orikini: down us. u the horrors or the UntUmilerkS it? 1 hey donl uilnti they're safe ttiey'- li iip! Wh it would the moth er think of Hie jlxtn-n-yir-iM daughter, who when herlnfiijil was !liurdead lu the hous4, should tt mie d 1111 and slngini; Into the parlor, and exclaim, "tiil I'm no happy mother! I don't care tor theiltad baby in tlie coffin. Would she not he sIhm'I? And Ml withlhlfc dM trii,e; iiuil by the hlood of Christ Id. limine- it; ly Hie wound u Ills haiuUaiil HfsNlde, 1 ahhorit; liy UiMcroaiis and agoity, I ahhor and denounce ll us the most hideous tilulittiiart'of liusilogv. This is strong language, even for Mr. I!evcher to u-e, but the signs of the .times itidicate that it i not too .trong to l.V en dorxsl by a ry large sirtloii of the Curi tian world. It look a- though tliisiiiontr us dis trine inxtnlttl by the monks in the dark age-., for the purpo-e of scaring niple into the chinxh would jShin lie di-carded from the cnsls of all 1'rotesJanl ilenominatiou And it eertaiuly .night to U-. ltut ry few churili uieniUrs in their hearts iwlicie it, while ihoiisand- of the Iie-t people are kept out of church by it, liee-iiise they can not helieie a diH?trine whitii, as Itt-clier ays "woiilil transform the Almighty into a mon-lt r more hideous th in Satan him self," and are tis rotisciiiicoiis to proft-s a belief winch t ev do not hold. it -i vi I i: ii of 'i hi: iii:u 1 1:1; uftrici'. Two ears or more ago an account published in the New York r. joe was of a largi niiinlvr of ktltr each containing $5 addressed to Maria II. 'ui-ill. -nt lo tin dead litler olbee unclaiunsl lrnin Ntw York. Iho-e lelltm wire neer applied for bv the ierson addrer-ed, but the publi cation of the facts leil to rewral applica tions from nsin unable to identify thim, and to whom of course they were not delivered. Their contents were, finally, un der the law, deposited In the 1'nited Male. Treasury to the credit of the IW Office Department, and the Utters placed on file In the dead letter office. Ujion the fact, being wade known to the public that these letters were unclaimed, the writer discon tinued sending them, but has neicr asked for their return. Another case, very simi lar to this, has just Iieen dcvtloiied in the Dead letter Office, and is thus stakd by the Washington Unum . Since 1S71, letters mall.il In Huston from time to time have Kvn addressed Ip Cntha rlnp -Mam ell, of that cltj, eaoh containing a flvedollarbank note. TheHion addrtwed pot being found they have from time to time been Jo rw aided to the dead letter ofllce. A nspaest u.iHery recently U-eu nil(ti at the dead letteromw from tile lostlnaster at Koston for the return ot thte letter, for tlir purpose of Identify, ing a claimant who lias finally appeared. They bae bispn accord ingly returned in the Jiopethe claimant jnay be able to establish a title to them. The er son claiming U an old lady who has no idea from whom the letters came, beyond a sup position that It U a ease of restitution from a man who robbed her son some j ears ago." and Is taking this means of iln'g back to the mother, Uia son having since died. PIIOXE IX ElIRtPE. The telephone is spreading all over Eu rope. In Germany it u now a part of the post-office system. It is in more general ue in that country than in the Dnited States, because nothing is paid to the patentee ; whereas, here, every telephone pays an an nuaf charge of $50. If tlie tax were not so high it would be more generally employed. The English Post Office Department has adopted the bell telephone as a part of its telegraph system. In a recent Ulephonic experiment in connection with the cable, twenty-one and three-quarter miles long between TJover and Calais, there ws not' the slightest failure daring a period of two hours? Though three other wires were busy at tbe same time, every wprd was heard through the telephone, aqd individual voices were distinguished, xn iMreatTA-rr itex. One of the ways in which the ill wind in tbe East blows' good to the United States, is illustrated by the fact that the famous Baldwin locomotive company in Philadel phia, hare just received orders from the Basaiaa Government for the construction of forty large first class engines, of five feet fUge,to be completed during Febraaryand Hatch, 1878. The Banian GorenuBeM I Marty all the rJkM(J.lteek MJm 1 ;. vice. Meanwhile the largest crop of wheat :..i : c...i -..-.. ..l P.,,1..,- rr- raivTi iii iiuiunu .ilutssso nuu ifuiu ria is rotting in tlie bins for want of trans jartation. This wheat, which usually finds an outlet from the Black Sea ports, will have to be transported by rail to the Baltic jiorts, and about three hundred new engines will be required at once. A large projior- .,, , 1 1. -i. r.. lion 01 mew: win, However, ue uum w a.u- rotie. Tlie engines to be built at the iaid- win Locomotive works will cost upwards of $7)0,000, and in their contraction employ ment will be given to abuut eight hundreil "the cold or ormit." Uich gold mines have been discovered, so it is reiKirted, in the Madras Presidency, in Brilih India the locality which has been so sorely afflicted by famine during thclaet two vrars. Jt is thought uy ma v mat mis may be the gold producing country referred to so frequently in the Bible as "Ophir,' the precise situation of which has not been ascertained, some learned men placing it in rabia, some in Eastern Africa, opjsnite Madagascar, others in India. "(Jeld of Ophir" is a familiar jihrase, and that metal was regarded as of the finest quality. An English journalist, mentioning thi matter, announces that "a new curse has fallen on India," declaring that ' for months Madras nas been tortured by hunger, and now it will fall a prey to thirst, "unhallowed thirst for gold." It mav be doubted whither the di-ooiery of gold country in the long benefits or injures a the rni'Ncii irvroMTro-. Two sailing slii'K and a steamer will lie read to sail in February and March, under the direction of the Secretary of the Navy, with goods for the French International Exsr-ition. The Commissioner of Agricul ture will at once proceed to prepare for an extensive display of cotton, tobacco, wool, Indian corn, sugar, rice and other jiroducts of this country. He also intends to exhibit a choice collection of different kinds of wosl of this country. (lor. McCormick, the Coiiimi-iontr-(ici.cral, will this week issue rnles and regulations concerning the application for space and the transportation of grxsls. a ntrrisr -rm: roix iiakd TIME'S, The Philadelphia Baptists have declared that the commercial and industrial de pression of the country are due to moral caucs, sucn as selDsiiness, grecu ol gain, public and private dishonesty, waste, reck lessness, and a disregard of the rights of man and the laws of God. Tlie remedy which they propose for the-e crying evils is pray er. As if the good people haven't been praying all these years. IIOVTO.t CIIUKCIIE!. The Kev. Dr. Lwuan Abbott after a vis it to Boston, writes about the churches of that city. He says that many of them are burdened with heavy dtbts, and that the number is far gnater than the need. Ed ward Everett Hale's congregation is small and not increasing. Starr King's old chaji- el is no longer crowded. James Freeman (. Iarke has transferred his evening services to a halL Adirondack Murray's work, "judged by the ordinary standards applied to churches and pulpits, is a failure and he has little or no church." r.vr i.ivi.m;. It is a very common thing, in this coun try, to talk about -he French as U-ing a frivolous, di-sipaled, and "fast" people such (icople generally do not attain very long life, and p t the most of the prominent men in France to-day in literature or poli tics are old men many of them from sev i nty to ninety years of age -Jules Annatid Dufaure, head of the new ministry, being in his eightieth tear. These facts would seem to show that our estimate of French character and habits i. not correct. i:i.vMini; a ki:vimo of the CltEEU. The diversity of icws among the Con greg itionalits of New Enjland regarding the dH?trine of eternal puni-hment contin ues to break out. There was a manifesta tion of it, the other day, in Hartford. It would Is- comement, now, to hold a sort of Vatican Court II, and promulgate a stite ment of the dogma w ich is to I acct pted as a jiart of the f'onsregitiniialist creed. rwi-w: hit ciioict'ii niinrs. The movement for the wiping nut of church debts is gaining lorce. Beports from New York, Chicago, and other cities show that a regular mortgage lifting cam pilgn has Commenced, and that sn far the results arc of a most encouraging character. Ix'avenwortli chunhes are probably as free from debt as those of any other city of its size in the country, vet th re are congrega tions here carrying uncomfortable loads. IT'S KM'EAID' TI'KX OW. Sitting Bull, having tired of his allegi ance to the "Great Mother," is remrted again within the lmnndarics of the United States in quest of rcaljx and plunder. The Cincinnati Guztttr sajs it is now in order for the Briti-h Government to send a com mission to interview him. It is reported that ex-Senator Hitchcock, of Nebraska, is to be ap'iointed consul gen eral at Paris, vice General Torbert, whose commission expires in January next. WESTER JHS.MH'!!, Tte Towns of Western nissourl Alone (he l.lue of the Chicago, Hock Island A. PnclBc Koa as far its Trenlon. Thentox, Mo, December 21. Editor Timis- The towns along tbe line of the Chicago. Bock Island & Pacific railroad bear every evidence of thrift and enterprise and possess energetic and pushing populations which have built them np within the past few years to an extent which is surprising. Plattsburg. thirty-sir miles from Leaven worth, is a live town, and does tonsiderable in a small manufacturing way. It is tbe crossing point of the North Missouri and the Bock Island roads, and is surrounded by a rich farming coummunity which is its chief support. The Pla.tsburg Bank, Geo. P. Funkhouser, cashier, is one of the solid institutions of the town, and the carriage and -wagon factory of . W. Scutt one of the leading manufactories of its kind in Western Mis souri. Mr. Scutt employs on an average from eight to ten hands throughout the year and from eighteen to twentr during the busy season. The Clinton amj Commer cial homes are both goad hotel and never want for custom. The Lcnr, John McMichael, editor, Is tbe neatest paper in the state, and has a big circulation. Cameron, the nest town of importance east of Plattsburg, is quite a railroad cen ter and is a large freighting point upon the Boct Island and Hannibal & St. Joseph roads. It is a town of three thou sand inhabitants, and is well built up. Few town in, this portion of Missouri do the business Caaseroa .does, and in fact very few cities of it ske in the West can equal it in that respect. As regards hotels, tbe town k well nppliod, the leading cara Taasary. the Cmmm Jrisssat, ben veil keat aa iiwt tJmtkmgt w7a tHUSl MIWjI.T of being situated at some distance from the ciepotuoes a zooei ousmc-w. im-i . . . . . many substantial and handsome business houses and residences, and has a large trade from the sarroundins country. The SorgeHous, kept by Mr.O.Sorge, is a favorite stopping place for Leavenworth-i-n. Trenton is the mot important town on the Bock Island road between Leavenworth and the Iowa line, and is as busy and lively as a town can .possibly be during the exist ing state of the weather. For weeks, ow ing to the terrible condition of the roads, scores of farmers have not been to town at all, which, of course, has its influence on trade. Trenton being the end of one of the divisions of the Bock Island road, and having the machine shops o' the company located there, is, principally, a railroad town, and it owes its building up almost wholly to that influence. The population at present is about 4,000, and constantly on the increase. Bents are high, with no va cant houses to let, the demand for business honseF and residences being greater than the stimilr. Of the hotels the American houe lead's, and is a favortie with the trav eling public. JoiiX. THE PIE MAX. Some person lias written a circular for the Er-Pie and Molas-es Candy Peddler, who represents the "North-western, Mutual Life Insurance Company" of Milwaukee, in this city, and the fellow fetlsag proud, a a child with a new toy in fact as proud as if he himself was the author. "There is nothing in it," and were it not for the fellow's audacity, and his persist ing in false statements, I should not conde scend to notice it. 1 he comparison of divi dend, would be amusing, 'if it were not in tended to deceive the public, as most all publications issued by the Company are. For instance he falsifies figures to show that the dividends of the New York Life for 187C are 8 p r cent. less than the "North western," when in fact they are one per cent, greater as I shall show from the sworn statement of the "North-western," Here are the comparisons: Com. Prem. Dlv. Per Itus. Company. 13TB. IsTS. cent. IS o. Conn. Mutual fi,7a,121 2,4l.(rtl sr.i 1. Mutual id N.VlJ,IJi,70J 3,7UI.7U0 24.5 1M5. Mutual Ilenefit 4T0,71 l.sS.TVa 3tu 1SI4. New Knc Mutu'l lCJiVa7 470.0K 21.5 1M7. l'enn Mutual 1,173, S,7L! .! IM1. Pluenlx , yi.i.slK SllSn U.I I3I. htateMuIual :7,11U 7i,7 25.t Isr. New York Ule 5,SA,io7 l.-Jus.nrj tii.O lsia. North wet.tern;C.S05 8.5,43) a. NOW KOR THE FACTS. The premium income of the Northwest ern (if we can believe the sworn statement of the oflicersl for 187C, is given at 2,50.3, 805.47. The Company paid dividends as follows: Cash, $33,203.1o; notes, J541, Co3.o9, then the geatleman wants to bring in as dividends Oyj-'Ji, which is sworu to as interest and tax; deducting the latter amount from tbe false statement, it leaves the jiercentage of the Northwestern twenty three (J3) per cenU, which isone(l) per cent, less than either ol the above nine com panies. The criminal charge of false pretences in advertising is answered thus: "Uarnuin should capture l.iui." How is that for wit? If the gentleman were in New York, he would answer the charge ;n a criminal court, here he may cscaie the penalty. The author don t tell us why the Northwestern swindled 111. Laithe out of SS00, John Cre- tors alsmt 1400, J. I. Larimer, O.J. Hop kins and others, out of different sums at different times. Instead of answering the charges of swin dling and traud against his company, he draws on his imagination in the most reck less manner, and says his company has a claim against me of $4Su'4, when he knows that I have a good and valid claim against the fraudulent concern he repre sents. His an-wer to several charges and short comings, mut be imputed to his ignorance, for w hich he is not to blame. Whilst the xKr man was selling pies and taffy candy, lie had no time for study, and should be ac corded some credit for what little he does know, lie may well look back with pride to the time when he was selling pies, for then he was an object of envy, compared with what he is now ; namely, the agent of a fraudulent Life insurance comtianv. P. I!. Castle. THE EW CAI.iroltMIA SEWreil. He I'nvors Free Trade and Ibe Mirer Dollar. In view of Hon. James T. Farley's elec tion by the legislature of California as Uni ted Mates Senatorfor the term beginning on the 4th of March, 1ST!', a report of an inter view with him, printed in the San Francis co Oifof the 10th Inst, becomes of general interest. The rejiorter thus describes him : "He is a man of large and rather heavy frame-, whose dark hair and full beard are sprikled with silv.r. and whose eye looks keenly from under its shaggy brow, evi-dene-e that while ears have left their traces on the body, the brain is yet as clear and active as in v until. Mr. Farley impresses one with an idea of reverse, unci although his manner is curdial. still it does not lead one o attempt familiarity, in other words he is cool, self-jiossessed, and too well accu-tonied to the ways of the world to be caught by wtty flattery." His political views are thus sum marized: "Of tlie Texas Pacific Kailruad I have only to say, and 1 say it frankly and truthfully, that I am absolutely opposed to the Government's paying a subsidy to that or any other railroad. 1 am perfectly will ing, and am glad to seeTomscattand other capitalists build railroads in any part of the United States, so long as they build with their own money, but 1 am not willing to see the Government lend them its aid or credit. My ideas utxin the vexed silver question would require more time than I can give ou, and more space than you would print, so I will only say that I believe a silver dol lar should be 9 dollar in fact as well rs name, and that if deeded I shall strive to bring about that result. The financial question has racked the brains of our ablest statesmen, and I don't claim to fully under stand it, but after carefully studying it, I agree with the ideas expressed by Mr. Til den in his letter accepting the Presidential nomination, as I do also upon the question of resumption. I do not think tbe present generation should be heavily load ed with txation to liquidate a public debt, in the pay ment of which our successors oughtcertain ly to be equally interested with ourselves. I am opposed to anything that approaches repudiation. I am emphatically opposed to Chinese immigration, considering it an ulcer, whiih, unchecked, will eat its way to the bone and life of our state. It should be slopped, and shall be if Jmy earnest efforts will avail, even though it cost the abroga tion of tbe Burlingame and otljer treaties. The presence of th. se Chinese who are now among us creates an unhealthy moral and political feeling, and while I would in no way disgrace our Government by a viola tion of law, 'still I sincerely hope that means mav he devised for ridding us of them. Regarding corporations, I believe that a State Government shouhi have and has entire control of those within her limits. If a railroad imposes upon the people, the State as well as Federal Gov ernment shonld regulate the affaire of that road for the protection of the people, while on tbe other hand, when a road is proVM to be no detriment to the general interest, that road in turn shonld be pro tected by State and Federal Government. I think that the timber land question should be so regulated as to prevent the massing of large bodies of such territory in the hands of monopolists, and the Desert Land law should be amended, or repealed, if nec essary for the same object. I regard the agricultural interests ot this State as of par amount importance; to them we owe our vitality, and upon them we must trust for future prosperity. These interests will best be subserved by reducing in every way pos sible the presents protective tariff until we have reached, as near sa practicable, free, open trade with the world for our market. I could dwell at length upon this tariff question, for it is one in which I have ta ken great interest, but it will be sufficient for tbe length of your article and for the truth ful expressioB of mj opinion to aay that whether Mucosae Senator or. remain a nri- -rae ckiaen, Twill employ every aoaorable taatwaicaCalilorBU Kswat,saaaal jasat tawai war riwHrhm sal CanVnsa- thai hat tw .---- s.. . a.. -, - .- -..... .V JIY AVIAJIV. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. In the Atlantic for January .J Through my north window. In the Wintry weather My airy oriel on the river shore I watch the aea-towl as they flock together, Where late tbe boatman flashed his drip ping oar. The gull, high floating, like a sloop unladen Lets the loo-e water waft him as it will ; The duck, round-breasted as a rustle maiden. Paddies and plunges, busy, busy still I see the solemn gulls in council sitting On some broad ice-floe, pondering long and late. While erhpad the home-bound ducks are flitting. And leave (he tardy conclave In debate. Those weighty questions In their breasts re volving Whose deeper meaning science never learns. Till at some reverend Elder's look dissotv- The sieechless senate silently adjourns. But when along the waves the shrill north east r Shrieks through the laboring coaster's shrotl'ls Il ware' The ple bird, kindling IkeaChrlstmasfeas- ler When some wild chorus shakes the vinous air. Flaps from the leaden wave in fierce rejolo Feels heaven's dumb lightning thrill his torpid nerves, Xow on the o.asi his whistling plumage isjlsing, Xow wheeling, whirling In fantistlccurves. .-Mich is our gull ; a gentleman of leisure. lasss tlesha-d than feathered ; bagged, you'll find him such; His virtue silence; hisemploympnt pleasure; Not lad to look at, but uot good for much. What of our duck He has some high-bred cousins His Grace the Canvas-back, My Lord the urum Anat niKlJnjs-r both served up by dozens. At Boston's Jiocurr, half-way to Nahaut. Asforhim-elf, he seems a ert and thriving Urubs up a living somehow what wiu knows? Crabs? mussels? weeds? Look quick? there's onejusldiviiig! Flop! Splash! His white breast glistens down he goes! And while he's under Just about a minute I take advantage of the fa CI to suy Ills fishy carcass has no virtue lu it Theguuuiug Idiot's worthless hire to pay. lie knows j ou ! "sportsmen" from suburban all. vs. Stretched under seaweed In the treacherous punt; Know severylary, shiftless lout that sallies Forth to waste iiowder as he sajs, to "hunt. 1 wotehisl jou with a patient satisfaction. Well pleased to diseuuutyuur pre destined luck: Therln.it that figures in your sly transaction Shrewd is our bird ; not eisy to outwit him. bharp Is the outlook of those plu-lead ejes; Still, he is mortal and a shot may hit him, One cannot always miss him If he tries. Look ! there's a young one, elancer: dreaming not of Soes a flat log come floating down the stream ; Stares undismayed upon the harmless stran ger; Ah! were all strangers harmless as they seem! llabtl! n leaden shower his breast has s!nt lered; Vainly he flutters, not aualn to rise ; IIKssift white plumes along the waves are scattered ; Helpless the wing that braved the teiuiest lies. He sees his comrades high above him fly lug To se-ck their nests among the island reesls: Strong is their flight; nil lonely he Is Ivlne Washed by the crimsoned water ss he bleeds. O Thou who c-irest for the falling sparrow, Canst Thou the sinless suHercr's pang for iret? Or Is Thy dread account-book's jiage so nar row Its one lung column scores Thy creatures debt? Poor gentle guest, by nature kindly cherish es!, Awnrld grows dark with thee in blinding death : One little gasp Wreckesl by breath! -thy universe has perished, the idle thief who stole thy Is this the whole sad story of creation. Lived by its breathing myriads o'er nnd o'er One gllmifec ol day, then black annihila tion A sunlit passage to n sunless shore? Give liaek our faith, lynxes ! Itolie us once more je mystery-sole ing In heaven-aspiring creeds! Happier was dreaming snhviixefi. Eg3It with her The stony convent with its cross and OCUls! How often gazing where a bird reposes, Itockedon the wavvlets, drifting with the tide, I lose mv self in strange mi temis-yrhosis And flout a se-a-iow 1 at a i-ea-iow l's side. From rain, hall, snow, lu feathery mantle mullled, Clear-ej est, strong-limbed, with keenest sense to hear My mate soft luui inuring, wlio with plusies unruffled, Wheie'erl wander Mill Is nestling near. Tlie great blue hollow like n garment o'er me; Space all unmeasured, unrecorded time; While si-BU with lliu.ird cjelnoxeson belore me Thought's plrttin-d train In worldlevspauto miiie. A voice recalls me From my window turn ing I And myseim pluineless hlKd still ; No beak, no claws, no sign of wings discern ing In lai-r, with nothing bird-like hut my quill. f'ATHEIEED HOSE. O.ily a beu made prlsouer, CaU-hllli gathered rose Was lie uot ware, a Hotter so fair For the first gather grows? Only a heart made prisoner, Uolugout free no mor- ! "A hh he uot 'ware, a lace so f-ilr, Must have been gathered before! K.W. B. Two Cobwebs An Old .flan's Tale. "There," I ve found the place, Cobweb." "You have, japa?" "I have." "Not a dreadful detached villa or cottage one, papa? "Uli, no. "With admir bly planned kitchen and flower gardens?" "No," said I. "With an extensive view of the Surrey mils?" "Why, any one would think you were a house agent. Cobweb," said I smiling. "No wonder, papa, when I've been read ing so many advertisements. Hut do tell me, have you really found the place at last?" "I have really, mv dear at least I think so." ' " "Is it a real old-fashioned country house?" "Yes." "Smothered in clematis and roses and honeysuckle ?" "Yes, and swarming with bird's nests and insects." "And with a regular great wilderness of a garden?" "Yes." "In which you can lose yourself?" "Yes, and in the wood too." "What ! is there a wood?" "Acres of iC "And plenty of fruit and flowers ?" "Plenty to make you ill and to litter the house." "And purple plums, and ruddy apples, and soft downy peaches, and great rich Morella chei.'Ies?' Yes, yes, ye, and cabbages, and turnips and 'utoes, and beans, and broccoli enough to supply a green-grocer's shop," I cried, testily. "And it doesn't look new, and stiff, and bricky, and isn't overlooked by the neigh bors, who hangout washing; and there are no organs, nor cabs, nor street-singers? "No, no, no, no, child. It's just what you asked me to get old and rugged, and picturesque, and inconvenient, and damp, and littered with leaves, and four miles away from any railway-station ; and now I hope you're happy." "Oh, I am, dear, dear, dear father !" she cried, seating herself an my knee, and nest lingher bead on my shoulder. "There hold up your head," I said, "and look at me. Now tell me frankly, did you ever see such a weak, stupid old man in your lifeT "I like weak, stupid old men,'' she said arenlv ; aad Her eyes twinkled with mern- meat, aad then softened with the tears that j 'i!'-lB'?r,em; UL fcea," laud, "because you can tyrannixe' over them, aad do what you please with Hub mA wk Iamb win J,m. i:i .n "-,-- ! .'Z. j-.,c J . aotae. a areiiy rvxve DeeBruaaincuus natai to fad a place tob like jatfa, MBlJlllmSf-w WMUrtfe. I tell you what, my lady, you'll have to take pains to make me comfortable down there, for I shall be as dull as lead." "No, you will not, pa, dear," sha sa'd, laughing, and then laying h'r cheek to mine. "I am so, so glad. You've made me so hapjy, for I was verv tired of London." I did not answer, but sat tooking down on the smooth, peachy che k that one of my hands would keep stroking, and at the long yellow hair that hung down over the the shoulders in waves, ami in spiie of my self a sigh escaped my lips. Ituth Cobweb, as "I always called her, because she was so soft and ilowny started up, gazing earnestl. in my face," and then kissed me very, very fondly. "Don't think alwut the past, dear father," she said softly -she always called me father when she was serious. "Cant't help it, child," I said, mournful ly ; and then, seeing the tears srather in her eyes, I tried to be cheerful, and smiled as I added, "I hvae the future as well as the past to make me sad, mv dear." She looked at me wondennirlv. but did not speak, and I sat there holdinir her little baud to my heart as I thought of the past, and how ten years before, jn-t as business was Icginning to prospe-r with me, I was left alone with the little faii-haired girl of eight, who found it so hard to believe that her mother had been taken awav never to return, only to live in our memori's. And thought, too, of how the vears had fled away, and I had become a wealthy man, whose: sole thought had Iieen of the'child I had see-n grow up u in lidenli.xsl, making a very idiil of her, yielding to her every whim, and tloin the most I could to sjsiil oue who never could be s.i!ed. For, with all thenccnmplislnmnts I had lavished on her. Ruth had grown up to be a notable little hou-ewife-, who eiisgitsted our cooks by in sisting ujHjii going into the kitchen and injking my favorite pnddtngs and tarts with her own little hands, and generally behaving in what thecrvauts called au un ladylike way. And then I thought of my other sorrow the future and pictured with an agony I cannot describe the day when I should have to resign my claims to another, and he left alone a desolate, broken old man. I am naturally a very common, hard, and business-like old man. and terribly selfish. Cobweb had woven herself so round my heart that in my peevish, irrita ble way, I was never happy when home iroin the city without she was waiting on me filling my pipe, my one nightly glass of agrog, ujion which thebutler frowned in fret, he had once suggested to me that his late mster always took iiort of an evening. Cobweb was very quiet as she glided down from my knee to her hassock at my feet, and was evidently thinking as mucfi as I ; and at last I brightened up, for a thought had come to me with a selfish kind of comfort. "She'll be quite away from all tenipa tions to leave to leave me, there, anyhow," I suid to myself as I thought of the "at hotne" and balls to which she was so often receiving invitations. This set me talking fishing, as I called it in my great cunning to see if there were one of the rocks ahead of which I was in dread. "How shall you be able to leave all vour fine friends parties and set-outs?'' I said. "Oh, I'm tired of them all !" the said clapping her hands. "And gay cavaliers, with dandy airs and moustaches, and programmes." ' Ha, ha. ha!" she laughed merrily; and then, as it seemed to me in my "jealous watchfulness, turning the subject, she be gan to talk about the country place 1 had taken. A fortnight later and re were settled down; and really, with all my London no tion-, I began, to find the calm and re'Kise of the country delicious. Cobweb was de lighted, and constantly dragged me some where or another into th grounds of the pretty old place, where she arranged gar den seatsin the snuggest, shadiest spots for my cstiecial behoof. As 1 have said, there was rvwildcrnessof a wood adjoining the garden, which the former possesser had left in a state of na ture, saving that he had the old footpaths and tracks widened in their old winding ways, carefully turfed and dotted with a thair here and there. This was Cobweb's favorite place, and if I uiised her out of the garden. I knew I should find her here, with the sun raining a shoue-r of golden beams through tho net work of trees overhead, to dance and flash among the waving tresses of her long gol den hair. One day I found her leaning on a dead bough which crossed au opeuing in the wtssl, where 1111 seemed a delicate twilight green. She was listening intently to the song of a bird overhead, and as l'stopied snort gazing at the picture before me, 1 said to myself with a sigh: "All that's bright must fade! My darling, I wi-li I had your likeness just as you stand. Time Hies," I muttered, "and the win'er conies at last, with bare trees to the woods gray hairs and wrinkles to the old." She caught sight of me directly, aud the scene was changed, for I was listening next moment to her merry, happy voice. A day or two later I was in the citv, where I always went twice a week for'l could not give up husine-ss, it was part of my life when an old friend drnpHsl in, and in the course of his conversation he said : "Uy the way, Hurroies, why dont you have your jiortrait painted ?"' Hull! sttili: What for?" I said "Well," said my old friend, laughing, "I don't know, only that it would give a poor I noor artisi 1 know a job ; and, the iioor fellow, he wants it bad enough." "I!ah ! I'm handsome enough without being painted," 1 said gruffly. Then as a thought llashee! through my mind for I saw again the picture in the wood with Cobweb leaning on the branch "Stop a mini'le. Can he paint well?" "Gloriously. "And is ternuly hard up?" "Horribly, poor fellow." "How's that?" "Don't know. Ue't poor and proud, and the world has dealt very hardly with him. It isn't so smooth with every one, Jack, as it is with us." "True, Tom, old fellow," I said, "true. Well, look here: I'll give him a job. Would be come down and stay a mv place?" "Oh, yes, if you treat him well ; as I tell you, he is poor and proud, and quite a gen tleman." "Well, I'm not," I said testily. "I'll give him enough to eat, and a good bed to sleep on ; and he'll have to nut up with me drop ping my 'hV But," I added, s'apping my pocket, "I can pay him like a gentleman.'" "Oct out, you pur-e-proiid n!d humbug I" said my friend, laughing, as he clapped me on the shoulder. "lint there, I am obIigd to you. Have him down, and I'll thank you. He's a gentleman and a man of hon or." "Oh, I'm not afraid he'll steal the spoons," I said, laughing. "No," he said dryIy,"no fear of that. But you'll make a gisxl picture." "StufT!"Isaid. "Do you think I'm go ing to be painted I" "Why, what are you going to do, then V he said in an astonished way. "Let him paint little Cobweb," I said, chuckling, and rubbing my hands. My friend gave a long whistle, and after a few moie words he left. It did not strike me then, but I remarked afterward that he seemed to draw back from his proiiosal ; but I was now so wrapped up inmy plans that I could think of nothing but I the pic lire in the wuesl, and I went homej lull ot it, meaning it torasurprtse. Two days later one of the servants an nounced Mr. Grantlv on business, and on bis being shown in, I f mnd myself face to face with a hanhsome, grave looking man of about thirty. He was rather shabbily dres-ed, and looked pale and ill as be bowed to Cobweb and myself, ending by staring at my child, and I thought, in a rather peculiar manner. This annoyed me a stout, choleric, elder ly man - forno one had a right to look at my Cobweb but me; and I spoke rather testily as I said: " Now, sir, when you please I am at your service." "I beg your pardon,"' he said, in a low, musical voice. "Miss Burrows. I presume. (W moment nleenn't ,,-. Cobweb was sitting in the bay-window and to my utter astonishment he quickly drew one.of the curtains, aad then half dosed another, so that the light fell stroaelv ; ' watriuuri 00 aer aair. I could not speak let the aa4oa baa Wing ap ia mj tatwat aai aa I ateoa fmp- fc sPswm swaa. bbjw tV) shHSv Jsjsj, yaa aiae, ana men, pointing to where Cobweb sat, as astounded as myself, he said: "That would be admirable, sir. We could not improve that natural pose.' "What the dickens Are you mad, sir? What do you mean?" "I beg your pardon," he said, flushing, and speaking hastily. "I am so wrapped up in my art, 1 thought you understood. Mr. Elden said you wished me to paint this young lady's portrait. Am I mistaken?" T-hut : i ejaculated, cooling on the in stant. "I beg your pardon. Sit down, sir. You're hungry,"of course. How stupid of me ! Cobweb, my de r, order some lunch into the dining-room." He smiled, returned the pressure of mr hand in a frank, honest way that I liked", and then looked after my darling in a way that I did not like ; for this was not what I meant, and my jealousy was aroused. I expected some snuffy looking old painter, not a grave, handsome voting fellow. Hut I remcmbereel Tom Elden's words "He is a gentleman, and a man of honor" and casting away my suspicious thoughts, I en tered into the subject at once. "I'd half forgotten it," 1 said. "She'll make a good picture, eh ?' "Admirable sir. That position struck me at once as I entered." "I'll show you a better one that that, my boy," I chuckled. Hut I'm a business man; what's your figure the price, eh?" He hesitated, and his hand trembled as he S3 id "Would fifteen guineas In too much ?" "Fifteen?" I said. "I should take great pains with it it will be a long task," he said eagerly ; and there was trouble in the wrinkles of his forehead. "Ilut if you think it too much "I think it an absurd price, sir," I said testily, for Eden hail saal he was very poor. "Why, Mr. Eden gave four hundred for a bit of a scrap of canvass " "By a very clever artist, sir," he said with a smile. 'Look here," f said. "Mr. Mr. Grantly. You make a good picture of it, and I'll give you fifty guineas." He flushed and looked pained. "Less than half would pay me well, sir." he said. "Tut, tut! stuff, man! Elden told me you were poor and hard up. You always will be it you are not more of a man of business." "Sir!' he exclaimed, rising aud Ioooking at me angrily, "1 came here ex'iecliug the treatment " He stopiied short, reeled, sank into his chair, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed like a child. "My dear sir I really I I didn't mean " I stammed, iierspiring at every pore, for the iosition was most painful. "No, no," he said, hastily, "I beg your pardon. But but," he continued, striving manfully to master his emotion, "I have been very ill, sir, and I am weak. I have been unfortunate, almost starving at times. I have not broken bread since yesterday morning I could not without selling my colors. I I am much obliged forgive me let me go back to town. Oh, my God ! has it come to this ." He sank back half fainting, but started as I roared out, "Go away!" for Cobweb was coming into the room. "Thank you," he said, taking my hand as he saw what I had dune. lt was kind of jou." "My dear fellow," I said, "this is terri ble;" and I mopped my face. "There, sit still back directly." I ran out to find Cobweb in the hall. "Oh, you dear, goes! father!" she cried, with tears iu her eves. "What a kind sur prise! But is anything wrong?" "Artit little faint," I said. "Here, the sherry bi-cnits. Stop away a bit." I ran back with them, and made him take some wine, aud thus revived, he rose ind thanked me. "What are you going to do?" I said, star- " . "I'm going back to town, sir," he said quietly, but with his lowir lip trembl ing. "1 am not fit to undertake the task. I thank von, but it is too late. 1 am not well." " I looked it him as a business man, and in that brief glance, as in a revelation, 1 saw the strugg'es of a sxir, proud man of genius, who could not battle with tlie world. I saw the man w ho had sold, bit by bit, everything he owned, in his struggle for daily bread; and as I looked at him I felt ashamed that I should be so rieh, and fat and well. "Mr. Grantly," I said, taking his hand, "I am a rough man, and spoiled by bully ing people, and having my own way, I beg your pardon for what I have said and am going to say. You came down here, sir, to paint my little girl's jiortrait, and you are going to paint it before you go back to town ; and w hen you do go, you are going to have fifty guineas in your pocket. II11-I1 ! not a word, sir. My old friend, Eldent, told me that you were a gentleman and a man of honor. Tom Ehleu is never deceived. Now, sir, please come into the dining-room aud have some lunch. Not a word, please. If good food won't bring you round, you shall have the doctor, for, as the police say," I continued, laughing, "you're my pri-oncr but on parole." He tried to speak, but tould uot, and turned away. "All right," I sa'd, "all right;" and I patted him on the shoulder, nnd walked away to the window for a few minute's be fore I turned b ick to find him mure com-Hi-cd. That afternoon wc all three went out into the woop, and I made Cobweb stanJ as 1 had seen her on that day. Grantly was delighted, and in-isted upon ma ing a sketch at once; and then the days wore on, with the painting progress ing slowly, bnt in a way that was a wonder to me, so exquisite was every touch, for the artist's whole soul was in his work. Those were delightful days, but there was a st:rm coming. I quite took to the young fellow, though, and by degrees heard from him his whole story how, yourgand eager, he had, five years before, come to town to improve in his art, and how bitter had been his struggle, till, just before he had encoun tered my friend Elden, he had been realty, literally dying of sickness and want. It was a happy ttme, that, for when the painting was over for the morning we gar dened, or strolled in the country our new friend being an accomplished botanist, and ajoverof every object that he saw. I used to wonder how he had learned so much, and found time to paint so wellj I say it was a happy time for the first three weeks, and then there were clouds. Cobweb was changed. I knew it but too well. I could see it day by day. Grantly was growing distint too, and strange, and my suspicions grew hour by hour, till I was only kept from breaking out by the recol lection of Tom Elden's words "He is a gentleman and a man of honor." "Tom Elden never was wrong," I said one morning as I sat alone, "and for a man like that, after my kindness, to take advan tage of his position to win that girls love from me, would be the act of the greatest scoun ." "May I come in, Mr. Burrows?" said the voice of the man of whom I was thinking. "Yes, come in," I said ; and there we stood looking in one another's eyes. "He's come to speak to me," I said, and my heart grew very hard, but I concealed my feelings till he spoke, and then I was astounded. "Mr. Burrows," he said, "I've come to sav good-bye." "'Good-bye!" I said. "Yes, sir, good-bye. I have wakened from a dream of happiness to a sense of mi-erv af which I cannot speak. Let me be brief, sir, ond tell you that I shall never forfit vour kindness." "But you haven't finished the picture." "No, sir, and never shall," he said bitter ly, tr. Burrows, I cannot stay. I that is I need not be ashamed to own it, I love vour child with all mo heart." "I knew it," I said bitterly. "And you think I have imposed on your kindness. No, sir, I have no for I have never shown by word or look " "No you scoundrel," I said to my-elf, "but he knows it all the same." "And, sir, such a dream of mine could never be.fulfulled it is impossible." "Yea,', I said, in a cold hard voice, "it is impossible." God bless you. air ! godo-bye." "You will not say good-bye to her?" I said harshly. He shook his bead, and as I stood there, hard, selfish, and jealous of him, I saw him go down the path, and breathed more free ly, for he was gone. Gone, but there was a shadow on my home. Cobweb said not a word, aad ex pressed no surprise, never even referring to Ik Motara, feat west afceat tW aeaae alow- Wjrf!M" month, till the summer-time came roiidd again, and I knew that in mv iealnus sel. I .-, r ... -. nsnne-s 1 was breaking her yon 11 heart. She never coraplnined. and was as loving as ever; but my little Cobweb was broktu, and the tears spangled like dew wheneve-r it was alone. It was as nearly as could be a year after, that I, f-eliog tenyctrs older, went to seek her one afternoon," ami found her as I expected in the little wood, stand dreamy and sad in her old iiosition leaning upon the tree, listening to no bird-song, now, but with a far-off, longing look in her eyes, uiai swepi away tne last selfish thought from mv heart I diilnot let her see me, but went straight up to Elden's, learned what I wanted, and a short time after I was in a handsome studio in SL John's WoikI, starring at the finished piitiire of my child p-dnted, of course, from memory frsmed, against the wall. As I stood there, I heird the door open, and turning stissl face to face with Grantlv. We Iesikeil in each others eves for a few moments without shaking, and then in a iremouug voice, i sani "Grantly, I've come as a beggar My poor darling God forgive me now. I've broken your heart ! ' It was my turn to sit down and cry like a child, while my dear lsiy tried to comfort me telling me too with pcide how he had worked and become famous, and in a few more months had meant te come down and ask my consent. But there. I'm mixing it up. Of course he told me that as we were rushing along, having jut had time to catch the express; and ou reaching the stniion there was no conveyance, and we had to talk. That scoundrel would not wait, but ran on without me, and when I got there pant ing and hot, I found mydarling's heart was mended with all of that belonging to the gooe man from whose arms she ran to hide her rosy blu-hes on my breast. I'm not the selfish old fellow that I was about Gibweb, for here in the oU place, where they've let me stay with them, I pass my time with those two flossy-haired little tyrants. Cobweb the Second, and the Snider. as we call little Frank. Af for .Cobweb the Second, aged two, she said to me this morn ing, with her tiny arms round my neck, and her solf cheruli-cheek againt mine "Oh, ganpa dear, I do jove 00!" as I love her with all mv se-lfilh heart. The Bell of Saint Iffllnlrr. A I.esenl. TltAN'sI.ATF.P I'IMIVI 1IIK FECCc'II BY FAX MK b. UURIiKN. D ng ! ding ! eling ! Do.ou hear? What silvery sounds, what Joyous and consoling vibrations ! To all, voting and old, rich and poor, the bell of Saint Hilaire repeats morning and evening, without ever tiring: "Courage ! patience and faith ! Good tieople hope ! hope and love ! Listen to me: The only enviable treasures of the wor d are hope and love !" II. e Saint Hilaire is indeed a privileged vil- age. Lalm and true happiness has vol untarily installed itself there. All faces are smiling, for, in this small corner of the earth, each one has conquered his desires, and no one dreams of coveting the greater gooel which may lie his neighbor's portion. On Sunday, when the bell calls the fer vent parishioners, the humble church is well filled. It is in vai.i to seek for rich gilding and marble sculpture in this simple edifice ; but in-tead, armfiils of fresh ver dure, and bouquets of exquisitely lerfumed flowers decorated the vestibule, and orna meut the altars. III. At Saint Hilaire all the gardens are full of songs and ierfumes. The current famil iarly elbows the rose; the cabbage, the sage and the parsley, live in happy companion ship withe the carnation and the mignon ette. The honeysuckle aud the clematis twine themselves about the tree, or carpet the rustic arliors: the ivy and the wall flower attach themselves, without the slightest thuught of ceremony, to all the old walls, and in their quiet way, ofler their services as a sheltering mantle. The turbulent and busy bee hums and buzzes from corolla to corolla, whilst the idle beetle takes a bath of dew in the fresh calyx of an eglant ne. One admires the many colored butterflies with their velvety wingSj what can equal them in grace, and in constancy ! There, too, are the es paliers, starred all over with lovely crimson and white blossoms, only waiting for e rich sunshine of August and Septemlier to leave a portion of iu golden tingue uiion the savory fruits. At Saint Hilaire, happy villagj, the hearts of the jieeiple overflow with freedom ; the hands toil easily that they may be ena blnl to give, rather than thev may receive. The children are rich in health, the mothers, without exception, prodigies of tenderness. IV. Ding ! ding ! ding ! Here is the morning! Here Is the sun ! Good morning, friend sun ! Thou who healcst and con-olest, welcome! To greet thee, the bell takes iu most sonorous and caressing voice. Good morning friend sun ! The sky without a cloud, and blue as the wood s.'riwinkle. A slight bre-eze disturbs the accacias near the great house, and their odorous snow diffuses itself softly here and there, and a company of chatlinches and sparrows, nest ling in the foliage, chatter busily in emula tion of each other, charmed with the lau tiful day which has come. The swallows, blessed inliabitanU of the old moss covered bell tower, are soon seen, their small intel ligent heads joyfully encircling the bright green tufts of the house leek and maiden hair. The bell has awakened the whole winged world; little by little the entire village shows signs of animation, and com mences the new day quite as gaily as the swallows and the chattering chaffinches. The morning is here. Arise! arise! A window garlanded with bind weed ami masturtium Is thrown oien. A curious sunbeam invaded the chamber of Made leine, and induced her to obey the ap'ieal of the silvery sounding bell and she smiling ly salutes the morning visitor: "Good morning, friend sun !" VI. How it pleases her to hear the village bell, the blonde Madeleine! And that can be wonderfully explained. The day of the consecration of the bell so dear to tbe hearts of the good people of Saint Hilaire, was also the day of the christening of Mad eleine, the poor orphan, adopted by some good hcirU in the village. Faithful to his duties, the sun never fails to keep the fete, and to shine his brightest uiion the anniversary. Madeleine is very pr tty ; straight and white as a lily, aud graceful and light as a bird. Old aunt Suzon, her neighbor, often murmurs, furtively drying a tear, as Made leine passes, "Alas! alas! ioor dear darling; so frail and so sweet; her place is not upon the earth that is, if the good God wishes us to give her up." And aunt Suzon has had experience. Madeleine cougLsa little sometimes; that slight dry cough which Is so portentous of evil. At such times her pale cheeks flush quickly, her limpid and profound glance has a strange light, and her hands bum. The physicians says all this will pass away. But he has not the air of one who is well convinced. VII. To work! to work! no more of idleness The venerable cure, his breviary in his hand, walks with slow steps in the garden of the parsonage, under the shade of the cue-mut trees. liaising his eyes he catches a glimpse of Madeleine through the branch es) of the trees, and from afar he addresses her a paternal good morning. The laborer, with a gay rtfrainujion. his lips, goes to the fields to earn bread fur his family. Who labors, piays. The chaffinches c ntinue their chatter ing. 0 s The toilette of the young girl is soon com ple ed, and she plies hr alert and indefati gable needle ; she will have made much pro gress with her task when the angelus shall sound. Thus employed, the hours of the spring and winter days pass rapidly aad pleasant ly for Madeleine, for she find happiness in her work, and the good God protects the or phan. vm. Thia morning the bell ior. Tae mo- , tsTsaa- ale. aay that Udtawaata niversarv of its own aad Madeleine's birth" in truth, the young girl and the belt are twenty years old to-day. IX. At last, when the twilight come, at the moment of tbe angel us, it speaks to each one, the blessed bell, of simple happiness, of the joy of a peaceful conscience, the un speakable pleasure of the hours of repose, if the day has been filled with duties well per formed. Of the ineffable joys of the fireide ! The laborer again beholds his children, a rosy group clusterincaround the mother, a robust j and pleasing peasant woman, her face reel as a jieony, clear to the large plaited bor ders of her white muslin cap. The noiy, happy band ot chidren, congregated on the threshliold of the deor, await with impa tience the return of the father; at his ap proach lively toy is depicted on each coun tenance, and they utter a long cry of happi ness. He, drying his tanned forehead, wet with perspiration, (blessed dew of honest toil), embraces them all round ; and says in a strong and laughing voice : "Good even ing, dear w ifo. Come along, little people, to the soup." x. They do not dream of disobeying. The call on the contrary is welcome, aud each one goes to do honor to the tempting cab bage soup which smokes in the center of the rustic table. Towards the end ol the feast the hens walk slowly in and pick up the stray crumbs soon followed by their chickens, while the great shepherd dog, with ail air at once grave and indulgent, plays with a young malicious cat. At the end of the room, between the clock and the great fireplace, a half dozen copper jar are leaned carelessly against an oaken board, b'ackeied by time, and shine like gold. Through the wide oiien door are seen the hedges of hawthorn and elder; the limpid river, which Iovingljt caresses the feet of the willows, the apple orchard, tlie fields of wheat, enamelled with rose cam pion, and vivid scarlet poppies, and in the distance, the hills car'ieted with moss and dotted here and there with chestnut trees aud century elms. XI. Upon hearing the first sound of the an gelus, Madeleine let fall her needle, and with clased hands, bowed head, aud sus pended song, offered her prayer a short, simple petition, whiah mounted straight to Heaven, as pure iucviise, or the perfume of the flowers. At present, with her elliow resting on the windowsill, she dreams but her reverie is sweet, for a happy tmilo trembles on her III. See how she blushes, the nativeand grace ful child. She thinks of Pierre and her promise that she will wed him in a month, when St. John's day shall have come. A brave, honest fellow Is Pierre ; a heart of gold! Poor, it is true, but courageous, faithful at his workand most worthy of the great happiness he anticipates. XII. Ding! ding! ding! Oh, it is a long time since it has sounded 10 vibrant and coasoling, the bell of Saint Hil-dre. It has in iu short life announced many joys, many christenings of the newly born, many family fetes, many marriages of love. Good, dear Kdl, faithful and bles-ed ! When by sorrowful chance its mission is to toll a funeral knell, iu tones are so sweet that one feels resignation come into his heart, and fancies the bell sav : "Beyond the tomb there is eternal lite! dry your tears. Hojie! hope! God wishes that we hope and lov c" XIII. Ding! eling! ding! A mouth has gone by. It is the feast of Saint John. All the village murmurs at the door of the church. The bell of Saint Hilaire should announce today the mar riage of Madeleine with her betrothed. Why, then, are its tones o feeble, so sor rowful that thev can scarcely be recogniz ed? What has happened? A bier covered with a white cloth, and garlanded with white roses ami immortel les, occupies the entrance to the altar. Alas! alas! The day before yesterday the good God led Madeleine away into his own blue para dise. Since then she has been an angel in heaven ; an angel escaiied from the sorrow and bitterness of the world. Happy Madeleine ! Poor Pierre! XIV. The tears of the old cure fell upon his robe as he murmurs the solemn prayers of farewell. He remembers that he baptised the orphan, that he gave her her first com munion. He recollects that he was to-day to have blessed the marriage of Madeleine'. Hewceisijhis trembling voice is broken with emotion, and the congregation sob in uttering the responses. Pierre, pale.and de-qierate, kneels in the shade, and drays that he too may die. Farewell Madeleine! Meanwhile the free sparrows and the chattering chaffinches sing merrily in the tufted trees around the great hou-v. The sun, abaning the stained-grass windows of the church, smiles upon the window of the little room, desserted now by the beauti tiful, blonde Madeleine. Ding! ding! ding ! The funeral kneel, more and more feeble, and sounding sadly from the depths of the bell's heart. The hell al-o mourns for the young girl ! XV. Strange occurrence! Since the death of the orphan the liell of Saint Hilaire utters only soft, plaintive sounds ; it is scarcely heard at any more, so mournful and exceedingly delicate are its tones. The good people of the country lielieve that the bell had a soul, and that it has gone to rejoin that of Madeleine. THE DEVIL'S DEAD. Henry Wars Beeeher Killed llln- Latl feundajr laaividaal Knott -Irdce of fod Contrasted Wills Or thodoxy. Mr. Beechers text was from Paul's Epis tle to the Ephesiaiu: "Having made known unto us the mystery of his will ac cording to his good pleasure which he hath purposed in himself, that in the dispensa tion of tbe fulness of times be might gather together in one all things in Christ both which are in heaven and which are on earth, even in him." One great difficulty in understanding Paul's impassioned writ ing, said Mr. Beecher, arises from the fact that his ardor moved him to use high fig ures and seemingly obscure allusions. This was an evidence of his elevation of spirit and near imitation of Christ's own teach ings. In this passage hesiieaksof a mys tery, but dimly indicated, that is God's pur-Isr-e to bring all things to one in Christ. t was a loose statement, with vague flashes of a far-seeing prophecy of what relation this universe should in time bear toward Christ. In another place he speaks of the mystery of this intent. The great back ground! of all theology is mystery. In this realm, theso remote from positive know ledge, men's fancies become 0 most remarkably dis cursive and despotic The elighest aberra tions of belief on such subjects as the na ture of God have been visited by marked tienalties in many sges. And yet, despite orthodoxy, men learn of God through their own experience. This is the one indispen sable door to such knowledge. And this fact of itself implies that men have facul ties in quality similiar to the divine attrib utes. If there be anything which requires personality it is that on which we wish to fix our hearts. Human nature, like the morning glory, however ready to climb and twine about an object of support, cannot cling to a shadow. It must have a sub stance to cling to. Truth is one thing in God and man. It differs only as tbe exper ience of the wise father Is greater than that of his young child. The child and the fath er have the same quality of thinking. True, between man and his Creator there is the same difference as there is between the light of a taper and the sunlight, but the princi ple is the same and weget an idea of the sun from the candle. There is, to be sure, the vast difference that exists in the great background of mystery. Our views are limited. God is above and beyond all limit, not measuring with our stunted standard of time and space, but viewing all things from an infinitude and eternity too vast for our comprehension. dead vrrrHour kxowdco it. I In bb eaort to picture this idea tae more sroaically tbe preacher alluded to the JCTctJsaaf theByrifalits Am arliifi in'erpret spirit life he said it was on'y a bringing back ot humanity in aiicauaie I form and under conditions somewhat simi lar to those of the flesh. Swedenborg had described a man in his heaven, or hererfter, who had been dead for twenty years and did not know it. He knew of many living illustrations of this idea men who to all intenU and purposes have been dead for years and have never realized the facL We can think, he said, of spirit somewhat as a dream, and the qualities we attribute to it are as the echo ot some attribute in our own natures. To conceive of a pure absolute spirit existence transcends the lower of human intellect. In this sphere we have the word time, which was inven ted to measure the interspace between two events. All clemenU of time come from the motions of matter. It does not foUow that in the spirit life there is any such phenomenon. When we come to jndge of infinity we bring measures that belong to the time element, and thus we are liable to fall into continual mistakes in our esti mate of infinite things. To go oir into the realms of the unknown, bring down ideas and say to men, "These you must believe," is heathenism, even if orthodoxy. Men must not be compelled to believe in per pendicular channels or that after this life people are immediately shot up to heaven or down to hell. Christ treated the human family as children, and often educated them "by fiction and fable as grown people educate children. If everything He had done were done regularly and squarely by rule and law He would then be merely a great man. I f everything had gone regu larly He would then be only human, but only one with mystery about him would have acted so. His discourses discovered a familiarity with the upper sphere and show eel a sense of things beyond men's com prehension." HIS NOTIONS! OP IlEITY. After depicting the universal application of the inspiieel writings as a guide to ier- sonal morality, social order and civic duties, the preacher ilwelt upon the trials and diffi culties that compass the preacher. Preach ing the truth was a great bondage and trouble of soul, lie then branched into a dissertation on the modern testimony of science about the origin of the human race, whose early condition was a savage one,' and grew eloquent in a denunciation of the idea that the great majority of the earth's early inhabitants had taken the or thodox road to hell. "I do swear," he said "by the wounds and sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ, that I lielieve the nature if Gotl is to suffer rather than to let others suffer for His sake. Show me such a deity as orthodoxy dcscrilies sending tliese vast multitudes "to hell in swarms and I will show you a devil worse than the midleval devil. Such a deity I will not worship even if he siu on the th'rone of Jehovah. I will not worshin cruelty : I won't if I die for it. To such a heaven as his would be I don't want to go. Do men study the'hiimanity that is in Christ's suffering" that they may Iearn that His saints in glorv dance over the myriad sufferers who have' Iieen swept like swarms of living llie-f to hell "' I de nounce it as infernal by the Saviour on the cross, by the wounds in His hands, by His holy sepulchre as a most hideoui nightmare of theology." From tlie orthodox view of God's enmity toward the sinner Mr. Beecher turned in terms of anient admiration to the theme of God's love for his creatures. Who could realize the love of Geid not living in infinity and thinking in eternity ' When Christ washed the fe-et of His disciples He said, What I am eloing now ve know not but ye shall know hereafter." Worse Than an Inlielcl. IMattkburs Leiver.) Kcvcrends Talmage and Beecher have Ixitli taken occasion to denounce from their uulpiu "the diabolical outrage contained in the silver bill." It will certainly occur to the average man in this country that thes-u clerical gentlemen are mesldling be'vond their proiier jurisdiction. They are Joins more to damage the cau-c of the Master than Bob Ingersoll, can do. I-et them stick to their business and rcle-gate iiolitics to the jieople. KAUNAS ITIL1IS. A flood One. Arkansas City Traveler. Old Mr. Loomis, a gentleman of seventy five years of age, carried eighty bushels of wheat, a distance of eighty feet ; carrying one and a half bushels at a time, last week, and claimed he did not feel much fatigued either. When even old men come to Kan sas they get young and strong again. A Tall Our. Hutchinson News. The chimney stack for the city mills is completed and the staging removed. His sixty feet and six inches high, and is a beauty. It is a job of masonry that reflecU credit on iu builders, Messrs. Jones and Flucfc. It is twelve feet npiare at the bot tom, and is drawn in eight inehes on eaeh side. A Touisb Hue. Uutehlsoii Interior.! Judge Houk is our authority for the fol lowing: On a farm near Lyons, Kite coun ty, the anU in thier excavations bring to the surface quantities of small beads, niip-jio-cd to have formerly been in the jiosse's sion of the Indians; and he further stales that it is of frequent ofcurnme, in facj it apticars to le 011 the regular programme of the anU' work. Now we are ready for another. A lrperiiu Coiiiuy. Cluisu County laader.J We learn that over 100 car loads of cat tle have lie-en shipied from Safford since June. Taking in consideration the fact that Safford is only one station of the six in the county, a pretty good idea of the cat tle business of Clia-e can be had. We Hope .So. (Frankfort llrcord. Among the last excursion party from Ohio, is a Mr. Brunson, an extensive stfick dealer, who visiU this county with a view of engaging largely in the raising of sheep. As r rank fort is the headquarters of the Wool Growers Association, and has plenty of good land all around it, here is just the place for him. Tae Same all liter lite Stale. WInHeld Courier.! X. J. Larkin, of 1'ichmond township, calltd on us Tuesday. He says his neigh borhessl is filling up rapidly with a good class of citizens and farmers are putting out large nuiube-r of fruit trees. XVr f'llro. Olatheillrror.J The report comes in from all over the county that the early sowed wheat is full of the Hessian fly, yet everybody says wheat never looked lietter. Will tin- II v stand the the thawing and freezing of the winter? Or will the wet weather kill it off the same as it does with the chintz-bugs? One at a time, but come on. We want to know, and then we will let cvrrj body know. Correct. Southern Kansas Gazette.) The large corn crop of this county is U-ing rapidly converted into J'O'k, which e sells, on foot ?or three cents. Though that is a small price, it is better than to sell the corn at fifteen cents a bu-heL It Will I'nr. Hice County Gazette. Mr. Jess Swartz, of Bellevue Ohio, has bought out Mr. Gncndyke's farm nnd dairy business, and is preparing to carry on both. Mr. Swartz comes from a section of country in which both of these business are carried on in the right way, and he goes to work as if he had brought his habiUcf thoroughness with him. A Kan. I-aola. .-pirlt. Tlie "run" on corn during the last two or three weeks has determined LaGrange &Co. to add elavator machinery to their mill, which stands along side the track of the Gulf road, near the depot. Two dumps will be put in immediately. The business men of Paola are getting red hot in the di rection of improvements. Broom Corn. Ulrarde I'ress. L. T. Thayer, of Washington township, sold seven tons of broom corn to a Mr. Howard, of Erie, Px, a few days ago. He was paid S75 a ton in cash on the railroad track in this city, or the snug little sum of $525 for the lot. The crop was the yield of twenty-eight acres. It will need no argu- t to show our larmers that broom com be made a in. wfiil crop in 8outaer M -j 1 . 5-.:tjsSria.: iSftsatCtnuc Jtei'2&S5?m''r-.i: 5 ."vfti :,.. c- &.-fh35& -Vjjujbfi fSsSfi,..?. . v-?s;t fev-fe3j