mass
FADED HOPES.
BY WELCOME DRYER.
3 sit bcsicle a l)rokon urn,
Fill’d with the trust of years ;
Aud o’er its sacred fount of hopes,
I beud iu bitter tears.
Around uie lie the parted wreaths,
\Voven, in joy and pain ;
Iu Vain, alas ! I strive to bind
The scattered leaves agaiu.
One flow’r of beauty rare, adorn’d
My sisters’ waving hair,
But dews of death uudsten’d each tress,
Ere its leaf faded there.
They bore her from' the hearth of home,
And like a passing wave,
Or. transit of a summer cloud,
From bridal to the grave.
Tlie fricnils I loved through many years.
Their sweetest offrings made ;
Blending the amararithiue hue
In every simple braid.
But where are they, the tried and true.
Who twined the fairest bloom ?—
Now close (.I’er most of that bright band
Tlie shadows of the tomb.
And here are buds from little hands,
I worshjpi«‘d half divine—
These, too, are lying crushed aud pale,
Beside a ruin’d shrine.
The rose, whose op’ning tint.'* I saw
Disclose, with gentlest care,
Tlie worm despoiled—my birds’ wild n8to
Is silenced iu the snare.
Yet in tlie “pillar’d cloud” may Faith,
A Fatlier’s hami descry ;
'J'ho' shadiiig earthly hop^, points still
'J\> treasures bright on high.
To tl'.at fair land, turn, mortals turn ;
3'b;y»nd time’s touch it lies;
Aud all the j'lys of tliat blest clime
Are imimn-taliiies !
A ItlODElSA’ B.ADY FS5EE.TIASO.\.
L
A curious case has occurred in
Iluiigary, where a Countess Ha-
dick lias been received as a Free
mason in an Hungarian Lodg-e,
under the Grand Orient of Hun
gary. She is described as “ a
higlilv educated lady, and well
versed in Masonic literature,” es
pecially having studied Masonic
history and ritualism, she ajiplied
for initiation ; we are further told
she was “ ballotted for and regu-
larh- initiated.” On the fact
coming to the knowledge of the
Grand Orient of Hungary it
“declared the iidtiation null and
void,” on the ground that a woman
was “ incajiable of being a Free
mason.” So the case stands at
present; but a question has arisen,
whether, as she has been actually
initiated, she can be refused ad
mission into a Freemason’s Lodge.
When we consider the case care
fully, two main points presents
themselves, riatneh’, the theoreti
cal and the practical side of the
question. Theoreficalljq we ap
prehend the act of the Lodge and
of the members ivas ipso facto
illegal, no woman being capable
of admission properly, and the
rules and laws of Freemasonry
only contemplating and dealing
with men. But a question comes
in here almost necessarily—has
the Grand Orient of Hungary
taken altogether the right view of
the case, and dealt with it entirely
“jure latomico T’ Much of course
must depend upon the laws of the
Grand Orient itself, but we are
inclined to think that a doubt
may fairlv arise as to the actual
power of the Grand Orient to
declare the initiation null and
void.” It is one tiling to condemn
a W. M. and a I.odge for an act
of illegality per se; it is quite
another thing to declare an act,
even if illegally committed, “null
and void.” And especially is
this the case as regards an initia
tion. “ Once a Mason ahvavs a
Mason ” is an old Masonic adage,
and we confess that we do not
exactly understand how the coun
tess initiation, performed in open
Lodge, can be declared “ null aud
void,” or how, having been form
ally (if illegally) made a Mason,
she can be uinnado by any “ ex
post facto'' decision. The Grand
Orient of Hungary could, we ap
prehend, order the initiation to
be repeated, but can it declare it
“ null and void f” In England
we sometimes repeat ceremonies
on account ot informalities, or
technical defeats, but we are not
aware of rniy decision declaring
an initiation and the like “ null
and void” on any ground. In
tact, we do not see how that can
be done. It is competent for the
Grand Lodge to refuse a certifi
cate on the ground of an improper
reception, without which Countess
Hadick couhJ not gain admission
into a regular Lodge, but she
then continues a “ Mason unat
tached.”
The w'holo blame, of course,
lies on the W. M. and the Lodge,
as they must have known that
they were acting in defiance of
the unchanging Masonic law on
the subject. No one could, we
feel strongly have found fault
with any decision whicii the
Grand Orient ot Hungary could
have come to, as to the actual
wrong-doing of the Master and
Bretliren of the oiiending Lodge.
But thei'e come in hero further
and wider questions. Is Countess
Hadick, by tlie decision of the
Grand Orient, precluded from all
.\lasonio membership with any
Lodge I Is the oiiginal wrong ot
this admission so great that noth
ing can repair it ? Does the sen
tence of the Grand Orient of
Hungary so annul Countess Ila-
dick’s initiation, that she must
still be considered as a profane 1
On the sirict letter of tlie law she
was inadmissible for initiation,
but having been duly (though
improperly) initiated, what then ?
Our readers will see what a nice
point of Masonic jurisprudence
crops up. Now we venture to
say, looking at the matter fairK',
broadly and liberaih', that we ate
inclined to think the best course
for the Grand Orient of Ilimgary
will be to make an exceptional
case of it, to recognize the “ fait
accompli,’' though with the dis
tinct declaration that the act, be
ing absolutely illegal jserse, would
entail exemplary punishment on
any Lodge and Master so offend
ing again, and, if need be, to en
act a special law on the subject.
Such a course of proceeding would
be better, we think, than the dec
laration that the act is “ null and
void” per se, as in that case much
may bo advanced b}' Masonic
casuists we apprehend, wlpch
may give rise to many and some
what difficult questions. At the
same time tliis initiati{)n of a lady
is a curious fact iu itself, at the
present time, and deserves to be
brought before the knowledge
and attention of our many intelli
gent readers and we shall be glad
to hear the opinions of any of our
Brethren on the subject.—London
Freemason.
SJMPLICITy.
Simplicity, in the sense with
which it is used in the New Tes
tament, is one of the noblest qual
ities of character. So far from
being a synonym for weakness or
lack of intellectual force, it is
found developed in its rarest ex-
pres.sion in connection with these
gifts of mental and moral strength.
Simplicity is in that ingenious
bearing and openness of Iieart
which is the iteculiar attraction of
childhood. The little one, who
tells his story with a restful con
fidence, does not stop to consider
the phrases which it uses, or con
sider it it is sa3'ing that which
ma\’ run against any peculiar ex
perience or opinion of our own.
J’iiere is not even the shadow of
duplicity in the words any more
than in the face which looks up
to you. With passing j'ears the
contact wdth the w'orld iu social
and business life develnpes sel
fishness. Artificial restraints i}i
speech and manner become fixed
habits. Fashion and custom dic
tate the words we speak and not
the heart. A half-concealed du
plicity marks much of social in
tercourse. Men and w'ornen work,
and think, and barter even affec
tion and good will, in a wa)' that
will tell in the accomplishment of
selfish ends.
The influence of the world is
agaii}st the cultivation of siinplic-
it\- of character, and tho.se who
do not possess it are ready to
speak against it only as a qualit^
ivliicli may be the Ifirtluight of
some, or a mark of we ikno.ss and
lack of force, wdiich indicates a
want of ambitioii and self-ag-o-iv.s-
sion. As much, perhaps, does this
qualit}' of simplicity iu the lil’e of
J s isstandoutin (o itrast withtl e
character w Inch is the best growth
of human civilization. 'I'he sin;-
plicitv of Cliiist is that truthful
ness and openness of heart and
action whic-ii place.s him so far
above eveiw luniia'i ideal. It is
tile constant witnes.s of ■■(led
made mamfest in the flesh." In
follo'.ving after him, and seeking
to possess his ■‘mind and spirit,”
we shall, if onr feet are guided
into the rie-ht path, find this rave
and precious qualitv of heart and
mind becoming a part of the
character which is the outgrowth
of the soul life. The value of
this acquisition is seen wdien we
consider its effects and the victo
ries which its possession witnesse.s.
The simplicitv of Ciirist is, as re
vealed in the soul of the believer,
a trust in the merits of an atoning
Savior, wdiich lifts the soul in its
love for the Redeemer into a
sympathj' with him that is so
complete and self-denying that it
becomes the great center of all
action and thought. There is a
siiirit of obedience which delights
in services for Christ’s sake.
There is, in the personal love for
Christ, a welling up of love for
men that rejoices to spend and be
spent, if it may be the minister of
good. Truth becomes the lens
through which every object is
considered, and not self-love and
preferment.
Simiilicity, as thus developed
through sti^ess of temptation,
within and without, that -will
surelv come, gives a tone to the
character which, like the ring of
the metal, tells its real worth,in tlie
personal contact witli liien it car
ries an influence which it would
be as difficult to define as the fra
grance of some rare flower, but
positive and constant in its bless
ing, 'rile voting are inspired bv
it. It bears wholesome tonic to
the weak and discouraged. It
reveals the living power of a per
sonal Savior. It shames that sel
fish duplicity which casts its shad
ow on every part of life. Its light
is the piomise of love and hope,
such as some time shall fill every
heart and home with gladnes.s,
when ,Iesus shall be received in
his Divine simplicitv' by ev'erv
needy soul.
A ino'riii'jR’g iiu.rijG.
The most perfect home I ever
saw was in a little house into the
sweet incense ot ivhose fires vvent
no costly tilings. JSi.x Inuidred
dollars served tor a 3'ear’s living
of a father, mother, and three
children. But the mother was a
creator ot home, and her relations
with her cliildreu were the most
beautiful I have ever seen. Ev'eri
a dull and coininonplace man was
lifted up and enabled to do work
for souls by the atmosphere which
this woman created. Everv' in
mate of lier liouse involuntarily
looked into her face for the key
note of the day, and it always
rang clear. From tlie rosebud
or the clover leaf which, in spite
of her liousev'ork, she always
touiid time to put by our plates
at breakfast, down to the eisaj' or
a stoi^v she had on hand to be
read or discussed in the evening,
there was no intermission of her
influence. She ahvav s has been,
and always will bo, niv^ ideal of
a mother, a wife. If to her quick
brain, loving heart, and e.xquisite
tact had lieeii added the appli
ance of wealth and the enlarge
ment of wider culture, liers would
have been absolutely the ideal
iioiiie. As it -(Vas, it is the best 1
nave ever seen. It has been more
dian twenty v’ears since I crossed
its threshold. I do not know
whether she is living or not. But
as I see house after house in
w liicli fathers, mothers and chil
dreu are dragging out their lives
in a hap-iiazard alternation of
listless routine and unpleasant
collision, I alwav's think with a
sigh of that little cottage by the
sea-shore, and the woman who
was the “light thereof,” and I
find in tile face ot iiiaiiv women
and children, as plainly written
and as sad to see as in the news-
piqier columns of “Personals.”—
“ Wanted.—A Ilonie.”
DEATJl IV A DISHCLOTH.
A lady says in the Rural World:
—\V hen some of v’on are sure to
be down with typhoid fever;
when neiglibors are neglecting
their own work to nurse you;
when doctors are hunting in cel
lars and old drains for the cause,
let me whisper in your ear, look
to your dislicloths'. If they be
black and stiff and smell ifke a
‘‘ bone yard,” it is enough—throw
them in the fire, and henceforth
and forever wash v'our dishes
with cloths that are white, cloths
that v'ou can see through, and see
if yon have that disease again.
There are sometimes other causes,
but I have smelled a whole house
full of tv'phoid fev'er in one ‘dish-
rag.’ I had some neighbors once
—clever, good sort of folks ; one
fall four of them vv'ere sick atone
time with typhoid fever. 'Pho
doctor ordered the vinegar bar
rels whitewashed, and threw about
forty cents worth or carbolic acict
in the swill pail and departed. I
went into the kitchen to make !i
gruel—I needed a dishcloth and
looked about and found several,
and such “rags!” I burned them
all, and called the daughter of
the house to get me a disliclotli.
She looked around on the tables,
“ Wliv',” said slie, “ there were
about a dozen here this morning ;”
and she looked in the wood box,
and on the mantlepiece, and felt
in the dark corner of the cup
board. “ Well,” I said, “I saw
some old, black, rotten rags lying
round, and burned tlieni, for tliere
is death in such dishcloths as
those, and you must never use
such again.”
I “took turns” at nursing that
family four weeks, and I believe
those dirty dish cloth.s were the
cause of all tliat hard work.
Therefore, I say to everv house
keeper, keep your dishcloths
clean. \ou may wear dresses
witho'ut ironing, v'our sunbonnets
without elastics—but you must
keep your dish cloth^ clean.
\ou ma^' onlv' comb vour he, d
on Sundays, v ou need not wear
a collar, unless v’ou go from home
but you must wasli your dish
cloth. \ oil inay only sweej) the
floor “wlien the sign gets right;”
the window don’t need washing,
you can look out at the door;
that spider web on the front porch
don’t hurt anything—but, as you
love your lives wash out j'our
dishcloth. Eet the foxtail get
ripe in the garden (the seed is a
foot deep any way,) let the lioles
in the heels of v'our husbands foot-
rags go undarned, let tlie sage go
ungathered, let the children’s
shoes go two Sundav's without
blacking, let tvvo hens set on one
wooden egg—but wash j-ourdisli
cloth clean.
THE OLD MAN.
Bow low the iiead, bov; do
reverence to the old man. ‘ Once
like you, the vicissitudes of life
silveied tlie hair, ,iiid cliang^ed the
round, merry face to the' worn
visage before you. Once tliat
iieart beat with aspirations co
equal to any that you have felt—
aspirations crushed bv disappoint
ment, as yours are, perhaps, des
tined to be. Once the form stalked
proudly through the gay seem s
ot pleasure, the beau-ideal of
grace; now the hand of time, tliat
withers the flower of yesterday,
has warped that figure and des-
stroyed the noble carriage. Once,
at yoiir age, he possessed the
thousand thoughts that pass
through your brain —now wishino-
to accomplish deeds worthy of a
nook in hiine, anon imagining life
a dieani that tlie sooner he awoke
from the better. But he has lived
the dream very near through.
The time to awake is very near
at hand; yet his eye ever'kindles
at old deeds of daring, and the
hand takes a. firmer grasp at the
staff. Bow low the head, boy, a.s
yon would in your old ago be
reverenced.
\