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CHURCH DIRECTORY.
METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH SOUTH-
SPRUCE STREET.
W. M. Robey, Pastor.
Service::, Sunday, 11 a. m., 7^ p. m.
Prayer meeting Wednesday, 71 p. m.
Sunday School, 9 a. in.
Women’s Missionary Society 1st Friday
in each month, 3 p. m.
Childrens Missionary Society Stnday,3
p. U3,
Parsonage Aid Society Monday,3 p. m.
PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH—CORNER ASHE
AND JAMES STS.
R. B. McAlpine, Pastor.
Services Sunday.il a. m., 7^ p. m.
Prayer meeting Wednesday,7$ p. m.
Sunday School 3 p. m.
Missionary Aid Society 1st Monday in
each month.
BAPTIST CHURCH -JOHN ST.
F. II. IVEY, Pastor.
Services Sunday 11 a. m., 71 p. m.
Prayer meeting Wednesday,7| p. m.
Sunday School 3 p. m.
Prayer meeting in Webbtown, Thurs
day, 71 p. m.
THE CITY OF GOLD.
I liave dreamed in my dreams of
the city so blest,
Where the heart drinks its fill
from the fountain of rest,
Where the walls are of jasper, and
the gates do reflect
The unclouded faces of God’s own
elect.
I have journeyed afar through its
portals, and lo,
I reveled in joys of that dear long
ago,
For there did my arms in their
longing enfold
The friends of my youth, in the
city of gold.
I have dreamed in my untroubled
dreams of the night,
That the glory of heaven had
dawned in my sight,
And my eyes they were gladdened
with visions of cheer,
For a fair slumbering sister and
brother were near.
Through the gateway of sapphire
I walked through the street,
And no echo I heard from the fall
of the feet
f the ones who had strayed from
the dear household fold,
o the beautiful city, the city of
gold.
have dreamed, and their pres-
eto l W. Y® wo" Igai
That their kisses so warm on my
lips I could feel,
I have said, Fare thee well, 0 mo
ments of dearth,
Y e only belong to the dwellers of
earth.
I have dreamed of the joys of the
ransomed and free,
Of the crystalline gates and the
fair jasper sea,
But the half of the glory will e’er
be untold
Of the beautiful city, the city of
gold-
Oil that day will the joy of our
hearts be complete,
On the day when we walk through
its beautiful street,
When the fetters are broken that
bind us to earth,
And we taste of the joys of our
heavenly birth,
Then, then we no longer shall
hunger and thirst,
For the first shall be last, and the
last shall be first,
Where friendship is true, and love
never grows cold,
In the beautiful city, the city of
gold.
•—Zion's Watchman.
that followed. The discovery of
the Americas resulted in the ruin
of the great power of Spain. The
invention of printing, in the view
of the incalculable harm done by
pernicious literature, is far from
an unmixed blessing; and the
sewing machine, by increasing the
toil of women to the extent that
the little finger of the present ty
rant is thicker than the loins of
the ruler who bore sway over
feminine industry in the past, is
but a later example of the truth
announced above. The sewing
machine has created quite as much
labor as it has saved. It has
driven the women of the world,
and along with them the daught
ers of Zion, to multiply their
“changeable suits of apparel, their
mantles and wimples,” to elabo
rate and complicate “their fine
linen, their bonnets and veils.”
The distinctive woman’s move
ment has not escaped this law of
correlative development. From
its beginning, evil has sprung up
alongside of and kept pace with
good. About 1630 actresses were
first admitted to the stage, the
parts of women having been per
formed previously by youths. The
first French and English actresses
were a|type of those that were to
follow—earthly, sensual, bold,
thoroughly corrupt. What a
Pandora’s box of ills, what abase
ment and pollution of the sex,
what a sluice for all distinctively
feminine vices has this institution
of women players proved itself!
What a vast number of souls has
it plunged into the blackness of
darkness forever! Ten years
later Mademoiselle de Scudery
produced the first modern novel.
This, with its successors from her
pen, became the delight of the
great world—the lords, ladies,car
dinals, princes of her century.
But if woman upon the stage has
slain her thousands; the men and
women producers of novels have
dissipated the powers, have weak
ened and corrupted and polluted
their tens and hundreds of thous
ands. A few worthy productions
stand over against a number such
as no man can well number of
baneful ones. This is the result
of Mademoiselle de Scudery’s gift
to modern civilization. No coun
try since her day has permitted a
freer development to women than
hers. In art, literature, politics,
>’.. u.o practical walks of lite, the
French woman has been conceded
men have yet to produce the first
instance of their capacity or their
inclination to purify it—if we ex
cept their action in the temper
ance movement of the last twenty
years in this country. The truth
is, that the flourish of trumpets in
respect of woman's purifying the
ballot rests upon the fallacy of the
moral—we had almost said the
sinless—superiority of the femi
nine sex. It does not possess the
lofty purity so often ascribed to
it; but shares with mankind iu
the general blight of sin. For the
distinctively masculine defects and
vices we have corresponding femi-
nine ? ones. Deception, duplicity,
vanity, a love of scandal, wheed
ling, certain sensuous seductive
arts, the debasement and sacrifice
of her better nature to the phan
tom of frivolity, spitefulness, pet
ulance, a vexing tongue, and a
catalogue of moral weaknesses,
comprise some of these feminine
defects and vices. The apostle
argues from the fact that the man
was not deceived, but the woman;
and that she was first in the
transgression. The “most subtle”
of all created beings knew that
the race was most readily to be
corrupted by her prying inquisi
tiveness and her vanity, she being
the weaker of the human pair.
He knew, also, that she could
more successfully beguile her lord
than could he, the arch tempter
himself. In evil, as in good, she
has ever been the consort, the
helpmeet of her mate. Moral and
Christian women are the guard
ians of the domestic virtues, it is
true; but we must bear in mind
that, higher considerations aside,
they are impelled to this guard
ianship by self-preservation. When
once the family is endangered,
woman’s position and occupation
are rained. When once she be
comes the sport of man, she is in
peril of becoming an object of dis
gust to him—a creature to be
abandoned for another as soon as
his pleasure is satiated. The
preservation of the domestic vir
tues is the condition of existence
to a woman and to her children.
These are incontestable facts, al
though they are not pleasant to
dwell on in the present prevailing
tone of public sentiment. It is a
fact that during the two hundred
FAITH’S TOUCH OF JESUS.
That was a sweet little sermon
which was conveyed in one sen
tence from the lips of a poor wo
man, who crept up through the
crowd to touch the hem of the
Saviour’s garment. She despaired
of help from any other quarter.
She had given up. Her money
was gone, her health was gone,
her hope was gone. All that was
needful was to send her to the
Divine Healer. So doth God
strip away all vain hopes from
many a sin-sick soul, and show
them how their bootless attempts
only beggar them, and make them
the worse. The guilty prodigal
had to go down from his dandy
raiment to dirty rags—down from
his sumptuous tables to the swine
and swill, before his good old
father’s face could be sought in
penitent humility. Faith is often
born of despair, as starlight is
born of darkness.
There was something in Jesus
which drew that woman. She
obeyed this inward yearning, and
pushed straight through the
crowd to get near enough to
touch him. As Jesus attracted
that forlorn sufferer, who had al
most bled her life away, so has he
attracted every believer that ever
came to him.
He offered to do for you, fellow
Christian all you wanted. He
had in himself a sufficiency for
you. He seemed to you more
like the friend you needed than
you had found anywhere else.
He drew you as the sunlight draws
out the blossoms. Before von
I hour, when he suddenly unclosed
his eyes and shouted:—
“Kal-a-ma-zoo 1”
One of the men pushed the hair
back from the cold forehead, and
the brakesman closed his eyes and
all was quiet for awhile. Then
the wind whirled around the
depot and banged the blinds on
the window of his room, and he
lifted his hands and cried out:—-
“Jackson! Passengers going
north by the Saginaw rout change
cars!”
The men understood. The
brakesman thought he was com
ing east on the Michigan Central.
The effort seemed to have ex
hausted him, for he lay like one
dead for the next five minutes,
and a watcher felt for his pulse to
see if life had gone out. A tug
going down the river sounded her
whistle loud and long, and the
dying brakesman opened his eyes
and called out:—
“Ann Arbor!”
He had been over the road a
thousand times, but he had made
his last trip. Death was drawing
a special train over the old track,
and he was conductor, brakesman
and engineer.
“Yp-slanty! Change cars here
for Eel river road.”
“He’s coming in fast,” whisper
ed one of the men.
“And the end of his ‘run’ will
be the end of his life.”
Carlyle dying. (To soothe, and/water from the Ganges; a lizard
spiritualize, and as far as may be
solved the mysteries of death and
genius, consider them under the
stars at midnight.)
And, now that he has gone
hence, can sit be that Thomas
Carlyle, soon to chemically dis
solve in ashes and by winds, re
mains an identity still? In ways
perhaps eluding all the statements,
lore, and speculations of ten thou
sand years—eluding all state
ments to mortal sense—does he
yet exist, a definite, vital being, a
spirit, and individual perhaps now
wafted in space among those stel
lar systems which, suggestive and
limitless as they are, merely edge
more limitless, far more sugges
tive systems ?
I have no doubt of it. In si
lence of a fine night such ques
tions are answered to the soul;
the best answers that can be
given. With me, too, when de
pressed by some specially sad
event or tearing- problem, I wait
till I go out under the stars for
the last voiceless satisfaction.—
Walter Whitman, in The Critic.
creeping up one’s body; hearing a
bride cry when she is leaving her
parents and going to live with her
husband; hearing the bell of a tem
ple strike or a trumpet sound when
one is setting out on a journey ; a
crow perched on a dead body float»
ing down the river, and a fox cross
ing one’s -otWa.—Journal oj the In
dian Association.
A BROTHER’S LEGACY.
and fifty years wherein woman
'has occupied the stage of the!
I theatre, she has felled to purify
SUPERSTITION IN INDIA.
The dampness of death began as India.
to collect on his brow, and there
was a ghastly look on his face
that death always brings. The
slamming of a door- down the
hall startled him again, and he
moved his head and faintly
called:
loved him he loved you, and real-! engers soing
There is scarcely any country in
the world so blinded by superstition
The Hindoo will not un ¬
dertake a journey unless on an aus-
picious day, and even after he has
once started, he will perhaps return,
having on the road perceived some
omen indicating that his journey
will not be prosperous. Should a
person about to undertake a journey
WOMAN AND THE SUF
FRAGE.
all the liberty she chose to use.
As a consequence, she has become
sagacious, shrewd, self-possessed;
she has also become a synonym
for whatever is repulsive, what
ever is odious, in feminine devel
opment. Frederick Robertson,
one of the most discriminating
thinkers of this century, wrote of
Paris: “It is the birth place of
Phaedras and Pasiphais, and all
that is refinedly wicked. My
clearest conception of a devil, or
rather of an imp nature, is a
Parisian woman, thoroughly cor
rupted. And I know of some who
are close approximations to this
conception.” One such “approxi
mation” has but just left our
shores. May heaven preserve us
irom another Bernhardt!
The widening of woman’s ac
tivities has produced elsewhere
similar results to those evident in
France. The cigar store, the con
cert saloon, and worse places, em
ploy women who seek for posi
tions in business. The woman of
the Orient suffer from their ex
treme seclusion, and from their
generally low status; but the wo
men of modern Christendom are
exposed to terrible temptations,to
ignominies and pollutions, whereof
their Eastern sisters know noth'
ing. The Saxon mind, to whom
it; that during a’ similar period
wherein she has wielded the pen
of fiction, she has corrupted, if
she have also diverted and in
some instances elevated, her read
ers ; that in the department of
politics she has never exerted a
purifying, elevating influence,
with the single exception we have
named. She has not even regen
erated social life—her distinctive,
undisputed sphere. On the con
trary, the mischievous luxury and
the incalculable immorality of the
gay, frivolous, corrupt world, are
directly due to women, the found
ers and sustainers of the modern
beau monde.
It appears chimerical to affirm
that the suffrage, if extended to
women, should be limited to such
as possess a generally conceded
Christian character. But these—
that is, true religious women—
are the only ones of their sex who
have ever done the world any.
good. Against woman’s work in
the new theocracy, the household
of God, nothing can be urged. In
every other department of her ac
tivity, the correlative development
of evil, of ruin, is apparent. Our
Woman’s Missionary and other
kindred Societies, our woman’s
humanitarian work during the
civil war, attest her benignity
under the direction of the Master,
ly led you by his spirit up to touch
him by the hand of faith.
This Galilean woman only
aimed to touch the Saviour’s gar
ment. So prodigious was her
confidence that she believed that
a single contract with this ever
charged reservoir of healing power
was enough. “If I may buttouch
his garment I shall be whole from
that hour.”
A single touch of Jesus has
made many a man a Christian.
The first approach to him, the
first outreach of soul after him,
the first honest prayer for pardon,
the flirt iwu unit was done to
please him, these were the touch
ings that brought healing to the
soul. Conversion takes place the
moment when a soul begins to
trust in Jesus. That is the turn
ing point. The very essence of
conversion is the quitting of
everything else in the world, and
laying hold on a personal Saviour.
Not on a system of truth, but on
the Saviour.
Faith to a system of sound doc
trine can no more save a soul than
that poor woman could be cured
of her hemorrhage by listening to
the Sermon on the Mount. Her
faith was in the person, and its
expression was the creeping up to
reach out her finger to his gar-
or commence any work, hear anoth-
* o- east by the Grand er sneeze, lie will consider it a good
Trunk change cars.” ! or bad omen, according as the latter
He was so quiet after that the 1' las sneezed once or twice. If once
men gathered round the bed only, he will delay his departure for
thinking he was dead. His eyes a ' ew minutes or put oft his work
closed, he lifted his hands, moved! ti 11 some other time. So strongly
his head and whispered:— . and so generally is this believed in,
ap 0 ” ; that often serious consequences fol-
“Grand Trunk Junction—pass-
Hot “Detriot,” but death! Ilejlow on a person sneezing inoppor-
died with the half-uttered whisp- tunely. Servants have been known
er on his lips. And the head
lights on death’s engine shone full
in his face and covered it with
such pallor as naught but death
to be dismissed by their masters,
courtiers to be deprived of the favor
of princes and rajahs, for having
been inadvertently the medium
brings.
through whom an unlucky omen was
As we read this beautiful, sad ,'l^P^y 6 ^- I’ 16 screechin
g of an
A telegraph messenger ran up
the steps of No. 10 Place.
At his quick ring the door opened,
and a young lady took the mes
sage. There was but one line,yet
it stood out in the morning light
with terrible distinctness:
“Your brother Ralph died this
morning at 5 o’clock.”
The color faded from the girl’s
cheek, and she leaned heavily
against the doorway, gazing at
the paper as if stricken dumb.
The boy waited a moment, then
softly touched her shoulder, say
ing: “Please, ma’m, there’s ten
cents to pay.”
“Yes, I forgot,” she said ; then
mechanically drew out her purse,
paid him, and entered the house.
The boy ran down the steps,
saying: “I wonder what was the
matter!”
What was the matter! Only
one line of writing, yet how much
it meant. “Ralph was dead”—
he, the loved and absent brother,
would return no more to the
hearts that missed him. Far, far
away, whither he had gone to win
a place for himself, with the dew
of youth upon his head, he had
lain down and died.
There was a sound of great
weeping in that home, for the
terrible shadow of death was
there.
Two weeks afterward the bell
rung again, and an expressman
carried into the house a trunk
marked . “Ralph Gray.” Kind
letters had come, telling of the
brother’s sickness and death, tell
ing also of hisjlife and the honored
name he had left. Pleasant words
were these to the loved ones ; but
gratulations were over, and the
lady retired from the scene of fes
tivity to the seclusion of her pri
vate room. Presently she heard
light footsteps coming up the
stairs. “Ah!” she said, “there
are my two little grandsons com
ing to congratulate me.” Two
rosy lads, ten and twelve years of
age, came in, one named Albert
and the other Ernest. They af
fectionately greeted the duchess,
who gave each of them the cus
tomary present of ten louisd’or
(about forty-eight dollars,) and
then related to them the following
suggestive anecdote:
“There once lived an emperor
of Rome who used to say that no
one should go away sorrowing
from an interview with a prince.
He was always doing good and
caring for his people, and when,
one evening at supper, he remem
bered that he had not done an act
of kindness to any one during the
day, he exclaimed, with regret
and sorrow, “My friends, I have
lost a day.” My children, take
this emperor for your model, and
live a princely way, like him.”
The boys went down the stairs
delighted. At the palace gate
they met a poor woman wrinkled
with age, and bowed down with
trouble.
“Ah, my good young gentle'
man,” said she, “bestow a trifle on
an aged creature. My cottage is
going to be sold for a debt, and I
shall not have anywhere to lay
my head. My goat, the only
means of support I have, has been
seized; pity an old woman, and
be charitable.” Ernest assured
her that he had no change, and so
passed on. But Albert hesitated.
He thought a moment of her
pleading looks, and tears came to
his eyes. The story of the Roman
emperor came to his mind. He
took from his purse the whole of
the ten louisd’or and gave them
to the woman. Turning away
with a herrt light and satisfied,
he left the old woman weeping
for joy.
The boy was Prince Albert, of
England, justly called “Albert the
Good,” and afterward the husband
of Queen Victoria.
CURIOUS COMPOSITION.
owl is believed to portend death. 1 nothing had made his death so
- - realas the sight of Ralph’s trunk
incident, we wondered how many ! _
Ghiiitoers, firemen and brakesmen, i So thoroughly are the people con-
i viuced of this that no sooner are its
who serve tho public co faithfully,
and often heroicly, as in the case
of the engineer who recently
stood at his post amid great dan
ger and thus saved the life of ex-
President Hayes, we wonder how
many of these brave, faithful men
will make the “home run ?” Let
us hope that very many will
reach heaven, where they may
enjoy an eternal Sabbath, the
anti-type of which they are so
often deprived here by merciless
corporations.—Zion’s Watchman.
^fenwg
BY MRS. MARY S. ROBINSON.
It is a significant fact that
every attempt to “widen the
skirts of “light,” every movement
for the mental, moral or spiritual
development of the race, has been
attended by a counter movement
producing obscurity, confusion,
error. In this world the kingdom
of light is paralleled by the king
dom of darkness. The Head of
the theoracy is everywhere con
fronted by the ruler of that dark
ness, and in all times is the poetic
prophecy verified:
In the after years,
When thoughtful men shall bend
their spacious brows
Upon the storm and strife seen
everywhere,
To ruffle their smooth manhood,
and break up
With lurid lights of intermittent
hope
Their human fear and wrong—
they may discern
The heart of a lost angel in the
earth.
Following in the train of the
gospel of good-will to men comes
the Inquisition. The founding of
the bishopric of Rome is the
source of corruption to the entire
Latin Church. " "
the distinctively womanly char
acter, in its purity and delicacy,
is precious, hesitates at the price
paid for such “emancipation” as
the sex enjoys in France. Can
we afford to have business and
political woman, it asks, at the
price of their modesty-of what
ever is most attractive in, and
most distinctive of, good, lovable
woman ?
“Women will purify the ballot!”
proclaim the women suffragists.
Who knows whether she will ?
The feminine politicians already
'gathered in AVashington will not.
Some of these are notoriously cor
rupt in character. One of them,
to our personal knowledge, is a
vile seducer of men ; for this class
of sinners exists not in the one
sex alone. In Europe, from the
feudal to the present times, wo
men of the aristocratic and royal
classes have been influential in
politics. But in all history wedo
not read that such women have
I purified the political condition of
the countries they helped to
govern. Cleopatra, Agrippina,
Catherine de Medici, Catharine II
of Russia, the Duchess of Mari ¬
the King. In that conflict she
did as much for the rescue of the
Republic as any army of soldiers
in the field. It is doubtful wheth
er the realm could have been
saved without her gracious ser
vices at home, in the bureau, the
hospital, the camp, and the field.
These facts being such, it be
comes all Christians to move with
caution in the direction of the
woman’s movement; for, as Christ
ians, we are not called upon to
construct moral sewers nor in any
way to enlarge the powers of the
ruler of the darkness of this
world. Inasmuch as this new
impulse is a part of the life of the
church as well as of that of the
world—an element of both king
doms—we cannot gainsay it, nor
would we be considered as one of
its unqualified opponents. But
whatever “is not of faith is sin.”
“He that is not for me is against
me,” said the Head of our theoc
racy. The world will use its own
for itself, and this is true of the
woman’s movement in America,
in Russia, in India, the world
over. It is not for Christian peo-
ment’s hem. The Bible nowhere
declares saving faith to be an in
tellectual assent to truth, , but
simply trusting one’s soul to
Jesus. A single touch suffices to
prove the existence of such.
One difference between that
woman’s care and our own must
not be forgotten. She needed but
one touch. That healed her en
tirely and forever. But oh, how
often do we need to come up close
to the Healer, the Pardoner, the
Giver of strength! Not once
only in a life time, but again and
again. Our touch of him in
prayer is to be “without ceasing.”
Our hand must reach out after
him as often as help is required.
Methinks the blessed Jesus stands
ever beside his followers, and says
to them “Reach hither thy finger
and behold my hands ; and reach
hither thy hand and thrust it
into my side; be not faithless but
believing.”'—Zion's Watchman.
DEATH OF CARLYLE.
ple to resist the incoming tide;
borough, the Duchess de Longue- but it is for them to direct, to
ville, (who incited “The Women’s | utilize, it in every possible way.
War,” the second and gravest of For this reason the considerations
the Fronde,) these, and scores of we have adduced may have some
. 1 others who might be named, were I pertinence to those who reflect
The Reformation | j^j purifiers of politics. Never, j upon the subject, and especially to
produces the massacre or fat. j to our knowledge, has a measure j those women who- desire political
Bartholomew. Reasoning as the|f or the suppression of bribery or
slave-holders used to reason in re- other public corruption, or for the!
spect of the abolitionists, the gos-1 putting of a right spirit into the 1
pel, the Christian Church, the I machinery of State-craft,emanated 1
Reformation, were the causes re-,t ro m a woman. After centuries;
sportively of the baneful effects| o f participation in this craft, wo-j
suffrage.—N. Y. Advocate.
—Bishop Lyman says that since the
Iwem,
THE LAST STATION.
We are wont to think of rail
road men as wicked and godless.
But it is not true in every in
stance, as the following beautiful
ly illustrates. A brakesman on
the Michigan Central Railroad
had been sick away from home at
one of the hotels for three or four
weeks, and the boys on the road
dropped in daily to see how he
was getting along, and learn if
they could render him any kind
ness. The brakesman was a good
fellow, and one and all encouraged
him in rhe hope that he would
pull through. The doctor did
not regard the case as dangerous,
but the other day he began sink
ing, and it was seen that he could
not live the night out. A dozen
of his friends sat in the room
when night came, but his mind
! wandered and he did not recog-
1 nize them.
For the last three years we in
America have had transmitted
glimpses of Carlyle’s prostration
and bodily decay—pictures of a
thin-bodied, lonesome, wifeless,
childless, very old man, lying on
a sofa, kept out of bed by indomi
table will, but of late never well
enough to take the open air.
News of this sort was brought us
last Fall by the sick man’s neigh
bor, Moncure Conway, and I have
noted it from time to time inbrief
descriptions in the papers. A week
ago I read such an item, just be
fore I started out for my custom
ary evening stroll, between eight
and nine.
In the fine cold night, unusual
ly clear (February 5th, 1881,) as I
walked some open grounds adja
cent, the condition of Carlyle and
his approaching, perhaps even
then actual death filled me with
thoughts, eluding statement and
curiously blending with the scene.
The planet Venus, an hour high
in the west, with all her volume
and luster recovered (she has been
shorn and languid for nearly a
year,) including an additional
sentiment I never noticed before
—not merely voluptuous, Paphian,
steeping, fascinating—now with
calm, commanding, dazzling seri
ousness and hauteur—the Milo
dismal notes heard than quite a com
motion is created, and it often hap
pens that at dead of night the whole
village turns out to drive away this
bird of ill-omen. Great care is also
taken not to mention the name of a
child in the night, for fear an owl
should hear it, the popular belief
being that it would in that case
repeat the name every night, and
the child, in Consequence, would
pine away and die. The scratching
of the palm of the hand is believed
to prognosticate that the person will
receive some money, while the
scratching of the sole of the foot in
dicates that a long journey will have
to be undertaken. To hear the
word “bunder” (monkey) early in
the morning is considered very un
lucky, and evils of every description
are looked forward to as likely to
happen during the day. And yet a
monkey is one of the sacred animals
of the Hindoos. At Benares thous
ands of them are allowed to live in
gardens especially set apart for
them, and are fed by all classes of
people, who, in so doing, consider
they are performing an aet of great
charity and devotion. The snake is
never mentioned at night, the popu
lar belief being that it is sure to
make its appearance if its name be
uttered. If there is occasion to
speak about it the word keera (rep
tile) is used instead. There exists a
superstitious belief that, should
credit be given for the first article
sold in the morning, that day’s busi
ness will be attended with great loss.
Even if the purchaser is his best
customer, the shop-keeper will either
ask him to come again, or to buy a
trifling article and pay the cash for
it, thus enabling the person to per
form his bohree (first cash transac
tion.) After a person has taken
off his shoes, should one fall over
another, it is believed to be an omen
that the person is about to travel.
Should he really meditate a journey,
he allows the shoes to remain in that
position; if not, he puts them
straight, and is supposed thus to
without Ralph.
Helen Gray knelt before het-
brother’s trunk, and, with tremb
ling hand, raised the cover; kind
hands had neatly packed the
things within, and as Helen took
out the folded clothes, still bear
ing the impress of the wearer,
each garment seemed to speak his
name. At last, as she opened his
desk and saw a few boyish treas
ures within, a great wave of grief
swept over her, and, with a burst
of tears, she cried: “0, Ralph,
come back, come back!”
Then her tearful gaze rested on
a worn little book, half diary and
half account-book. Opening it,
she saw pasted on the first page a
newspaper slip containing these
words:
“A worthy Quaker thus wrote:
‘I expect to pass through this
world but once. If, therefore,
there is any kindness I can show,
or any good thing I can do to any
fellow-being, let me do it now.
Let me not defer nor neglect it,
for I, shall not pass this way
again.
This, then, had been the motto
for the last year of Ralph’s earth
ly life, and the record following
showed that it had not been for
gotten. The expenses recorded
were comparatively few for him
self, but a long list of items
showed how his small income had
gone. There was written down:
“A present for my mother;” “A
present for my sister ;” “A dona
tion for the Sunday School;”
“Bought flowers of a poor wo
man ;” “Books for my class;” “A
Christmas present for my land
lady ;” “A Christmas present for
my washer-woman ;” “Fifty cents
The following rather curious
piece of composGron was recently
placed upon the black-board at a
teachers’ institute in Vermont,
and a prize of a “Webster’s Dic
tionary” offered to any person
who could read it and pronounce
every word correctly. The book
was not carried off, however, as
twelve was the lowest number of
mistakes in pronunciation made:
“A sacrilegious son of Belial, who
suffered from bronchitis, having
exhausted his finances, in order to
make good the deficit, resolved to
ally himself to a comely, lenient
and docile young lady of the Ma
lay or Caucasian race. He ac
cordingly purchased a calliope
and coral necklace of a chameleon
hue, and securing a suite of rooms
at a principal hotel, he engaged
the head waiter as his coadjutor.
He then dispatched a letter of the
most unexceptional calligraphy
extant, inviting the young lady to
a matinee. She revolted at the
idea, refused to consider herself
sacrificable to his desires, and sent
a polite note of refusal, on receiv
ing which he procured a carbine
and a bowie-knife, said that he
would not now forge fetters hy
meneal with the Queen, went to
an isolated spot, severed his jugu
lar vein, and discharged the con
tents of his carbine into his abdo
men. The debris were removed
by the Coroner.” The mistakes
in pronunciation were made on
the following words: Sacrilegi
ous, Belial, bronchitis, exhausted,
finances, deficit, comely, lenient,
docile, Malay, calliope, chameleon,
suite, coadjutor, calligraphy, mati
nee, sacrificable, carbine, hymene
al, isolated, jugular and debris.
THE TWO GOATS.
It was near oue of the depots,
and after the great trucks and
noisy drays had ceased rolling by,
the bells and the short, sharp
Venus now. Upward to zenith,
Jupiter, Saturn, and the Moon
past her quarter, trailing in pro
cession, with the Pleiades follow
ing, and the Constellation Taurus
and red Aldebaran. Not a cloud
in heaven, Orion strode through
the southeast, with his glittering
belt; and a trifle below hung the
sun of night, Sirius. Every star
dilated, more vitreous, nearer
than usual. Not as iu some clear
nights, when the larger stars en
tirely outshine the rest. Every
little star or cluster just as dis
tinctly visible and just as nigh.
Berenice’s Hair showing every
gem, and new ones. To the north-
east and north the Sickle, the
I Goat and Kids, Cassiopea, Castor
and Pollux, and the Two Dip
pers.
While through the whole of
prevent the journey. A person
meeting a severe loss or getting into
some trouble, is often known to at-
tribute his misfortune to having seen
some unlucky face in the morning,
such as that of an oil-man or a man
of notoriously bad character; or one j
who has some bodily deformity. A
person blind of one eye is considered j
exceptionally unlucky, and is gener-1
ally avoided by all in the morning 1
or when a journey is about to be:
undertaken. Among other bad
omens may be mentioned a snake or
jackal crossing one’s path ; hearing
a person cry when you are going
anywhere; the cawing of a crow and
the crying of a kite; a cat crossing
one’s path and the seeing an empty
pitcher. It is strange, as compared
with the bad, there are but few good
omens. Among these may be men
tioned the following: The meeting
to a poor cripple,” and so the gen
erous list went on—a great num
ber of small kindnesses, giving
beautiful evidence of the noble
life that Ralph Gray had tried to
live.
As Helen closed the little book
her tears ceased to flow. Surely
this young life, though brief, had
not been in vain. A glow of
grateful gladness came over her
face, and looking up to heaven,
she exclaimed: “Dear Ralph,this
is your best legacy!”
“Sorrowful, yet rejoicing,” Hel
en Gray went on her way, holding
very precious the name of Ralph,
and cherishing in her heart the
sacred words from his legacy :
“I expect to pass through this
world but once. If, therefore,
there is any kindness I can ^how,
or any good thing I can do to any
fellow-being, let me do it now
Let me not defer nor neglect it
At Plymouth, .England, the
ruins of an old castle are still to
be seen. It was built upon a
very high rock, the narrow ledge
of which runs out beyond the
walls. Two goats used to feed
upon the grass and weeds that
grew among the ruins. One of
them got upon the ledge, which,
was only wide enough for the
small feet of a goat to walk upon.
It went on until it came to a
sharp point, and was then obliged
to turn back again. Just then
it was met by the other goat, and
at that place there was no room
for them to pass each other, or to
turn around. The one that did
so must fall and be dashed to
pieces on the rocks below. The
goats felt their danger, and made
loud cries of distress. Many peo
ple heard them and ran to see
what was the matter. None could
>|give the least help. The goats
this waylatood face to face for a long time,
again.”—M. M. Howland, in A.! At last one was seen to kneel
land crouch down as close as it
for I shall not pas
Observer.
A PRINCELY BOY.
I could lie upon the ledge, and the
! other walked over him. The goat
last Episcopal convention he had admitted j „ ^,..
three candidates to the diaconate and two 1 et | painfully loud.
0!her dioce3es into that lhad been very quiet for hal
of North t arolina.
- , _ of a dead body being carried away
whistle of the yard engines sound- this silent, indescribable show, en-1 an( j no one crying with it; seeing a
— I that had laid down got up again,
In the palace of a small German sand went on the place where his
capital a German Duchess, dis-lfriend had found room to turn
I tinguished for her good sense and-around. It did the same, and
The patient "losing and bathing my whole I pitcher w i t h a rope attached to it, j kindness of heart, was celebrating j thus both were saved.—
■eptivity, ran the thought ofi
or a Brahman carrying a jug
of holy | her birthday. The court cQn-^Methodist.