Price, $1 a year.)
From the New York Observer.
THS SENTINEL.
BT JULIA lUCHO BAKER.
Oh, how I wish that I could
give to. you the incident in the
quaint diction, which was the
spontaneous out-flow of the
Scotch-Irish soul of old Hester
McBride.
Long shall I recall with infl-
Bite delight that sunny afternoon
of the 12th July, 18—. We were
all aware that it was ^^Orange
man's Day,” as, clambering about
her patient presence, we plied
her with questions, all of which
she answered to the limit of her
scant w isdom.
"Now, aunty, do please tell us
something about the Battle of
the Boyne.”
"Aye, the Battle of the
Boyne!” and she passed her hand
over her smooth, white brow,
near which laid the silvery looks
ofthreescore and ten years. “The
Battle of the Boyne, and were
not ^l my kith and kin there?
Ah, how many times, while we
sat in the gloaming', did they
tell we baimes of the Wren,
and the great work the wee bir
die did. Lang syne—ye must
have patience, and I will tell ye
all.'' Let us listen while she
Bings.
la the beauteful Island of Erin,
i^Where the shamrock in comeliness
smiles
Where nature witli verdure perennial,
Has clothed this, our lovely green isle.
In this spot so favored of heaven,
Would ye look for revenge and hate,
Where brother ’gainst brother would
battle,
Wirii hatred which knew no sate?
Even.so have tlvoso of old told us.
As we sat by the ingle at home,
How those of the Protestant faithful
Met those of the church of Rome.
Near the hanks of a shining river,
Two armies were just in view,
So the sun at his setting had left them,
To slumder the long niglit.through.
Thus man with frail wisdom had or
dered,
Not dreaming that Wisdom above
Had otherwise, In his omniscience,
Decreed it for those of his love.
As His angel-guards watched over Ja
cob,
And ever encamp round the just,
His infinitft love calls the smallest
T’ accomplish His purpose august.
The moon slowly steals from the orient,
r In the splendor of silvery robe ;
And the sentinels lone greet hereomlng.
As each on his lone “beaf’stillstrode.
"All Is welll” sordreams the reformer.
And sends a low whisper to heaven,
Asking grace for the work of the mor
row,
Full knowing that grace will be given,
The moom has fulfilled her bright mis
sion,
And gone to her home in the sea;
Theie exhales a low breathing to heav
en—
“0 God I guard my loved ones and
mel”
But list! in the distance a murmur,
As of far-away drum-beat is heard;
Our sentinel pauses, and near him,
On a drum sees a tiny h-own iirdj
He listens 1 he waits! and he hears it
again!
He looks! with a bound his heart
springs!
For he sees that the tmy bird souuds
the alarm
On the drum! With Its tiny brown
wings!
Yesj it gathers the crumbs from the
head of the drum,
Which the sohlier had Icit in his
haste;
These infinite fragments, thus leathered
with joy,
Cannot fall to the ground, cannot
waste.
’Tis well that he listens and heeds the
alarm,
Forfar in the distance he spies
The light of camp-fires,—tlie glitter of
arms
Is flashed on his awe-stricken eyes.
The alarm is sounded from post to post,
And quick as a flash all are ready;
With a prayer on each lip, flvni resolve
in each Iieart,
They gather, and each step is steady.
The foe is surprised! they who hoped to
surprise
Are defeated, and driven as a herd;
While those, the victorious, around
thoir camp-flres,
Thank heaven for the* tiny brown
bii-d!
When out in the fleld, through the clear
summer air,
Her cheery, shrill whistle is heard;
The Protestant faithful of Urin ex
claims—
“Bless God for that tiny brown bird!”
A right bonnie lesson she reads to us
all.
If we’ll have the wisdom to know;—
“Dear fellow, strive ever some kind
ness to show.
Making [life radiant with liglit which
shall glow.
Keeping warm, sunny hearts, whose
love shall o’erflow
Like the song of jour sweet Jenny
Wren.”
HIS TFMPTATIOH.
BY MRS. L. M. BAYNE.
It lay there just within
rea h, the pretty, glittering
thing, dropped carelessly on
the velvet lining of the jewel
er's window-tray, just as it
had fallen from the case when
some hasty hand had moved
it, and the man standing out
side knew that he could slip
in and snatch it, unnoticed, at
almost K- y moment when the
door opened, and what a beau
tiful thing it would be for his
Janey to wear on her dainty
white neck!
His Jauey! The jewels in
their velvet cases faded out
of sight; the gold neckchain
with its engrrved heart-shf^j-
ed locket van'^hed, an.^ there
stood before him a little slen
der child, with the light of
heaven in her eyes, with soft,
falling locks of bright hair,
with pale lips, and the weary
wasted look which suffering
brings overshadowing her
like the clouding of an an
gel’s wings. Ah! an. angel!
And he wanted the golden,
glittering bauble for her—-he
would sell bis soul that his
child might have the paltery,
perishable thing!
He went on his way then,
grimy, unwashed—a laboring
man who had no work to do—
nothing to live on but prom
ises and the little his good
wife could earn by a day’s la
bor whenjshe could leave Ja *
ney, the sick child. He went
home to the one poci' room
they occupied, and was cau
tioned not to wake tho little
one. She was very sick--
the doctor had been there,
and said it was a' crisis
she must be keptj very
quiet. The man strod e to
the bed and looked, at
her^ his one wee lamb.
Thpre she lay, sunk deep in
the poor pillow, scarcely alive,
scarcely breathing, her cheeks
pale and sunken, her small
hands crossed on her bosom.
Should she wake she would
ask with the pretty caprice of
babyhood what “pappie’' had
brought her, and he had not
earned a penny that whole
week.
When the supper of bread
, and tea was eaten he said he
would go out and take a stroll
while his wife cleared up the
dishes, and he took bis hat
and walked down the street
in the direction of the jewel
ers sto e. He half hoped
that it would be closed, but it
was not. He looked in the
window; the gold chain lay
there yet. Some purchaser
hurried in, leaving the door
open. He did not think of
Janey; he did not think at all.
The only thing he knew was
that he was walking away,
and clasped in the palm of his
grimly, closed hand was the
bauble he had coveted. It
wv.s the first fruits of dishon
or that hand had ever clasped.
“Stop thief! Stop thief!”
He ran when he heard that
cry, not in the direction of
home, but towards the river;
he sped on with the words
ringing a knell in his ears.
Then he found he was not
followed; they must have lost
track of him, or—it couldn’t
be that they meant him; his
sin had not surely found him
out so soon. He turned and
went home.
There all was confusion—
lights, hurrying feet and a
clergyman coming out with
bowed head. What did it
mean? He went in and saw
his wife crying, and^a strange
woman—Janey—oh, my God
—Janey was dead! He had
made himself a thief for noth
ing.
“Hugh, - Hugh, wake up!
What’s the matter’ man?
Here’s Mr, Gardiner waiting
to see you; he wants to en
gage you for reg’lar work,and
Jenney’s betther; out of dan>'
ger, the docther says. Wake
up, man—what ails ye?’’
Sure enough, what did ail
him? He jumoed out of his
chair like a lunatic and hug
ged Janey to his breast as if
he would never let her go-—
and Pm sure it’s a wonder it
didn^t kill ^her-and then lifted
his eyes to heaven, “The
Lord be praised,’’he said, “it
was only a dream!”
“He must have been
dreaming the child was dead,”
said his wife; “he always has
bad dreams when he sleeps af
ter supper that way.”
But he had dreamed that
he was dead himself—moral-*
ly dead in trespases and sin--
which would have separated
him forever from little Janey.
He had been tempted, but he
had not fallen.
“Oh, never from thy tempted heart
Let thine integrity depart.”
^•^Betroit Free Press.
Every human soul has the
germ of some flowers within;
and they would open if they
could ouly find sunshine and
free air to expand in. Not
having enough of sunshine is
what ails the world. Make peo
ple happy, and there will not he
half the quarreling, or a tenth
part the wickedness there is.—
M'S. Child.
The secret of the universal success of
Brown’s Iron Bitters is owing to the
fact that it is the very best iron pre-
paiation made. By a thorough and
rapid assimilation with the blood It
reaches every part of the body, giving
health, strength and endurance to ev
ery portion. Thus beginning at the
foundation it builds up and restores
lost health. It does not contain wliis-
key or alcohol. It will not blacken the
teeth. It does not constipate or cause
headache, it will cure dyspepsia, in
digestion, heartbuni, sleeplessness,diz-
ziaess, nervous debility, weakness, etc.
It is gratifying to notice
that in the summer education
al meetings the question of
character education is not
overlooked; and, indeed, that
the subject is receiving gen
erally more attention. Hith
erto the mind, or at least the
memory, has monopolized
the attention of instructors,
whose efforts have been bent
upon cramming the child’s
brain with facts, at the ex
pense both of his imagination
and heart.
Now, however, the indica
tions seem to promise a better
state of things. People are
waking up to the fact that
the child has a character as
well as an intellect to be train
ed and developed, and that
the school offers facilities for
its education which have been
too long neglected. As im
portant contribution to the
discussion of the subject is the
symposium of Er. R, Heber
Newton and Dr. Francis L.
Patton, in the August North
American.
Of the two, Dr. Patton is
the more philosophisal and
profound. He discusses the
grounds on which ethical in
structions is based, and con
cludes that “teaching moral
ity’’ means teaching Christian
morality, and Christian mor
ality, rests upon revelation.
Christian morality,” he in
sists, “must be inculcated as
the known expression of God's
will, Protestant and Roman
Catholics are in full accord
upon this point, though they
hold antagonistic views re
garding the mode in which
moral instruction should be
conveyed. It is not likely
that the Christian people who
are known by these names can
ever unite in the cordial sup
port of the existing system of
public education; but it is cer
tain that as long as they re
tain their Christian convic
tions they will express their
disaproval of every proposi
tion that contemplates a non^
religious system of ethical in
struction.
Dr. Newton on his part,
does not go as far as this. He
makes no essential discrimi
nation between secular and
Christian ethics, and dis
cusses expedients rather than
principles. Ethical educa
tion, he holds, may be carried
on in three ways: through di
rect instructions, through
trainning, and through the in
fluence of the spiritual atmos
phere created in the school.
He recomends as means of
instruction “choice ethical
readings, brief accounts of no
ble men and women, tales of
brave and fine actions, golden
sayings, parables and allego
ries,” etc., and purposes util
izing also the daily incidents
of the newspapers, which, he
says, “furnish affectiugs mod
els of heroism and tragic ex
amples of consequences of
vice.” The school disciplin
he regards as already furnish
ing valuable aid. Obedience,
punctuality, cleanliness, good
manners, are taught by the
daily routine, though with
these are commingled such
unwliolesome influences as
fear, self-love, for which a
higher motive needs to be
substituted.
After all, however, he thinks
the most potent element in
ethical education is the school
atmospher, and this is directly
imparted bv the teacher.,
“Personal influence,” says Dr-
Newton, “remains always the
last and most vital formative
power in the atmosphereic in
fluence of a school. The
schools that have been noted
for the culture of character
have always had a noble man
or woman at the core of their
wise systems.” The teacher
will not nest with enuncia'*
ting moral truths, or illustrat-
ing them with beautiful ex
amples, but will apply him
self to training the individual
conscience. More than this,
“the true teacher of morality,”
Dr. Patton writes, “will strive
not only to cultivate the con
science so that there will be a
knowledge of what is right,
but also to cultivate the char
acter, so that there will be a
disposition to do right.
But to do this the educator
must be educated: the nor
mal schools must include in
their course a department of
ethical instructon and a wider
view must be generally taken
of the teacher’s-offioe; which,
indeed, in the light 61 Dr. Pat
ton’s article, becomes invested
with the most solemn and pro
found resnonsibiiities.—N. Y.
Ohs.
If a child is brought up in
the coHstant exercise of cour'»
tesy towards brothers and sis
ters and playmates, as well as
towards parents and uncles
and aunts, it will have little
to learn as it grows older. I
know a bright and bewitching
child who was well instructed
in table etiquette, but who
forgot her lossons sometimes
as even older people do now
and then. The arrangement'
was made with Iier that, for
every solecism of the sort she
was to pay a flue of five cents,
while for every similiar care
lessness she should discover
in her elders, she was tO’ ex
act a fine of ten cents, their
experience of life being longer
than hers. You may be sure
Mistress Bright Eyes watch
ed the proceedings at the table
very carefully. No slightest
disregard of the most conven
tional etiquette escaped her
quick vision, and she was an
inflexible creditor and faithful
debtor. It was the prettiest
siglit to see her, when con
scious of^some failure on her
o^n part, go unhesitatingly
to her money-box and pay
cheerfully her little tribune to
the outraged proprieties.—Ex,
Why Some Farmers do not Succeed.
'I'he ^‘Southern Farm’s Month
ly” gives the following reasons
why some farmers do not suc-
seed:
They are not active and indus
trious.
They are slothful in every
thing.
They do not keep up with im
provements.
They are wedded to old meth
ods.
They give no attention to de
tails.
They think small things not
important.
They take no pleasure in their
work.
They regard labor as a mis
fortune.
They weigh and measure stin-
giiy-
They are wasteful andjmprov-
ident.
They let their gates swag and
fall down.
They let their Ibwls^roost in
the trees.
They have no shelter for stock.
They do not curry their horses.
They leave their plows in the
field.
They hang the harnessj^in the
dust.
They put oft' greasing the wag
on.
They starv'© the calf and milk
the oow. ■ •
The don’t know the best is the
cheapest.
They have no method or sys
tem.
They see uo good in a now
thing.
Th^ never use paint oa the
farm.
They prop the barn door with
a rail.
They milik the cows late in the
day.
They have ibo time to do things
well.
They do not read the newspa^
pers and hooks,.
A late student of Christ
hurch was in the liabit of
telling some wonderful stories
in Commons Room, much to
Oahorne Gordon’s amusement
.0 much so, indeed, that
when the narrator paused on
the verge of some specially
marvelous anecdote to explain
that he could not vouch for
it, Gordon was wont to en
courage him by saying, “Tell
it, L ', tell it; I’ll vouch
for it.” One of L ’s anec
dotes was that, when out fish
ing one day, he had put his
macintosh down by his side,
and a cow came up and ate it
To which 0. G. replied at
once, and without moving a
muscle. “Well, .1 only wish
our cows at'Oxtord would do
the same; we should have a
chance of getting our milk
waterproof.”—John Bull.
THE MEDICINE OF SUNSHINE
The world wants more sun
shine in its dispoiition, in its
business, in its theology. For ten
thousand of the aches and pains,
and iritation of men and women,
recommend sunshine. It
soothes betterjthan morphine. It
stimulates better than cham
pagne. It is the best plaster for
a wound. The good Samaritan
poured out into the traveler's
gash more of this than of oil.
Florence Nightingale -used it on
the Crimenian battle-field. Take
it !out into all their alleys, on
board all the ships, by all the
sick beds. Not a phial full, not
a cup full. It is good for spleen,
for li fer complaint, for neural
gia, for rheumatism, for failing
fortunes, for melancholy.
N.
Ur. C. N. Robe: rson,-Klm Gr ove,
C., says: “I prescribe BrownIvon
Bittn-.s in iny prj .dice ami liml U
recoumwnded.” ^
If any one strikes my child
he strikes me. A husband
can understand it If any one
injures his wife the injury
touches him. These close
human relasionship hel]) us to
understand how dear belivers
are to Christ, and how well
defended they are. This trutli
teaches us also to be most
careful how we treat others,
lest we be found lifting up our
hand against Christ in the per
son of bis lowly follwers.---/.
li. Miller.
■,;l