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I \ Sentiment. A Kiss for Sister, She whs a very littie sjlrl, And as I bent and kissed her— “There, that is for yourself," I said, “And that Is for your sister,” Ijist night I called In lriendly way— Some gay girl friends were there, And laufh and jest went gayly round To banish weary care. The little girl came romping In And unto me said she : “I dive that tlss to sizzer Bell, 'Ou left lor her wiz me. “She tissed me lots ’o times an’ said, When foiksts 'ouldu't see, I might dive ’em to ’ou—dust wait 'TUI ou’s alone wiz me !” I blushed, and so did sister Bell, 'lht gay girl friend", ah, me I I wished them horrid things had been A thousand miles at sea! Good desires will be of no avail un less they lead to good actions. The seed that does not grow never produces a harvest. The good desires which do not develop into active obe iience,soon pass away, and leave not a trace of their existence behind. Do not trust, then, to good desires. Something more than this is necessary to save a man. The Eainy Day. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind Is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and drei ry. My life Is cold, and dark and ('reary; It rains, and the «ind Is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the day is dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the cloud Is the sun still shining ; Thy fate Is the common late of all, Into each lile some rain must fall, Some days must be long and dreary. - Longfellow. It is a certain sign of an evil heart to be inclined to defamation, for it ever arises from the lack of what is com- mendable in one’s self and impatience of seeing it in others. Beauty Rules. “Rule One.—A woman’s power in the world is measured by her power to please. Whatever she may wish to accomplish she will best manage it by pleasing. A woman’s grand social aim should be to please. “And let me tell you howthat is to be done,” Sophia said, putting her paper down for a moment. ‘‘A woman can please the eje by her appearance, her dress, her face and her figure. She can please the ear by studying the art of graceful elocution, not hard to any of us, for by nature we speak with finer articulation than you. She can please the mind by cultivating her own—so far, at least, as to make her a good listener, and as much further as she will; she can please the fancy by ladies’ wit, of v> hich all of us have a share. She can please the heart by amiability. See here,” she continued, growing graver, “you have the key of my syste®. Beauty of person is only one feature of true beauty. Run over these qualities. See how small a part personal beauty or the freshness of youth plays nere. I want you to ob serve this; for my art would consist not in making women attractive who are openly pretty and young, but in showing them that youth and pretti ness, though articles of beauty, are neither the only nor the indispensa ble articles.” “Rule Two.—Modesty is the ground on which all a woman’s obarms ap pear to the best advantage. In man ners, dress, conversation, remember always that modesty must never be forgotten.” “Hardly likely to be,” I murmured. “Is it?” “Understand me,” answered Sophia briskly. “I mean modesty in a very extended sense. There is nowadays a tendency in women to rebel against old-fashioned modesty. The doctrine of Liberty Is spreading among us, for which I thank God,” Sophia said (she was the oddest little mixture of Tory and Whig and Radical ever com pounded on this eccentrio earth.) “But the first effects of that doctrine on our minds are a little confusing. We are growing more independent and more individual. Some of us fancy that to be modest is to be old-fash ioned, and of course we want the newest fashion in all thirgs. I maintain,” Sophia said, growing a little warm, as if she fancied I might argue back,“I mbintain that a modest woman is the reply of my sex to a brave man—you can no more have a true woman without modesty than a true man without courage. But re member, I use the word modesty in a high sense ” “Just what I was going to ask,” I said. “Not prudery, she added. “Prudery is to modesty what brag is to bravery. Prudery is on the surface ; modesty is in the soul. Rosalind in her boy’s suit is delightfully modest, but not,” Sophia said with a twinkle of her eye “not very prudish, is she?” I assented, and thus made way for— “Rule Three.—Always dress up to your age or a little beyond it. Let your person be the youngest thing about you, not the oldest.” “Rule Four.—Remember that what women admire in themselves is seldom what men admire in them.” “In nine drawing-rooms out of ten,” Sophia said, seeing me give a look of inquiry as she read this article, “Mi randa or C irdelia, as novel heroines, would be voted bores. Women would say, ‘We utterly decline to accept these wateiy girls as typical of us; we want smartness and life ’ I don’t really care much for Miranda or Cor delia myself. Now this stems to me to caution us against trusting too im plicitly or too far our own notions about ourselves. Another source of misunderstanding comes from the novel-writers. Wearethe Dovel-read- ers, and the novelist is forced to write heriones to suit our taste. He does not want to offend us. Thus it comes about that even the male novelist is too often only depicting women’s women, after alL. And I believe scores of modern girls are seriously misled for this very reason. They be lieve they are finding out what men think of them, when in truth they are reading their own notions handed back to them under a pretty disguise. “Rule Five.—Women’s beauties are seldom men’s beauties. “Whicn,” she remarked, “is an other form of what I said just now, only here I speak of personal beauty. My observation is, that if ten men and ten women were to go into the same company, and each sex choose the prettiest woman there, as they thought, you would rarely find that they clioBe the same. If this be so, we ought not to trust ourselves eveu as to our faces without considering that the sex we are to please must in the end settle the question, and will settle the question in its own way. “Rule Six.—Gayety tempered by seriousness is the happiest manner in society. “By which I mean,” Sophia said, looking at me with knitted brows, as if she were about to explain some mat ter not altogether clear to herself “that in ail our gayety there ought to be a hint of self-recollection. Do you un derstand me ?” “Not quite,” I said. “This I know certainly,” Bhe re plied : “the most agreeable women I have met with—and I think the most regarded—have been women of rank, who have been trained with a due re gard for religion. Their worldly edu- catibn had made them mindful of grace and liveliness ; their religious education kept these qualities under a particular sort of control, which is per ceptibly different from mere good breeding. It seems to me that vivacity and sprightliness are greatly enhanced by a vein of seriousness. Certainly no woman ought to be a mocker. “Next,” she continued, seeing I did not speak, “comes— “Rule Seven.—Always speak low. “I wonder why I put that down. It is so obvious. In support of it I need only quote your Shakespeare, who calls it ‘an excellent thing in woman.’ “Rule Eight.—A plain woman can never be pretty. She can always be fascinating if she takes pains. “I well remember,” Sophia said, after reading this, to me, rather ques tionable assertion, “a man who was a great admirer of our sex, telling me that one of the most fascinating women he had ever known was not only not pretty, but as to her face de cidedly plain—ugly, only the word is rude. I asked my friend, ‘How, then, did she fascinate?’ I well remember his reply. ‘Her figure,’said he, ‘was neat, her dressing was faultless, her every movement was graceful, her conversation was clever and animated, and she always tried to please. It was not I alone who called her fasci nating ; she was one of the most ac ceptable women In society I ever knew. She married brilliantly, and her husband, a barrister in large prac tice, wus devoted to her—more than if she had been a uueen of beauties.’ “Now here,” Sophia continued, re suming her own discourse—“here was a woman, who, excepting a fairly neat figure, had not a single natural gift of appearance Is not this worth our thinking about—those of us women who oare to please and are not beau ties born? “Rule Nine.—Every year a woman lives the more pains she should take with her dress “The dress of us elderly dames,” Sophia said, laughing, “ought to be mote of a science than it is. How often one hears a woman of fifty say, ‘O my dressing days are past!’ When,” adds Sophia, “if she thought about it, they have only well begun. At least, the time has come when dress is more to her than ever. Re member, from f >rty to sixty-five is a quarter of a century—the third of a long life. It is a period through which the majority of grown-up peo ple pass. And-yet how little pains women take—how little thought be forehand—to be charming then ! “And now,” she went on, seeing I did not speak, “here comes my last rule—as yet: “Rule Ten.—In all things let a woman ask what will please the men of sense before she asks what will please the men of fashion. ‘ I by no means intend,” she added, “that a woman is not to have regard to the opinion of men of fashion, only she should uot give it the first place. She will carry the men of fashion sooner by methods that please the men of sense than men of sense by methods that please men of fashion. And besides, listen to the men of fash ion. They always praise a woman for things which begin to perish at twenty five. Even the old men of seventy will talk of a fine girl— ‘deucedly fine figure!’” (I wish I could give an idea of Sophia’s slightly wicked mimicry at this passage.) “And they will call a woman rather on the decline, when, if she is on the decline, where and what are they? You see if a woman lives for the com mendation of men of fashion she will, if pretty, piquant, or what not, have a reign of ten years. But if she remem bers that the has charms of mind and character and taste, as well as charms of figure and complexion, the men of sense will follow her for half a cen tury ; and in the long-run the men of fashion will be led by the men of sense. “And there !” Sophia cried merrily, throwing the paper down on the rug beside her—there are my rules for re forming our little world of women!” The Church Temporal Statisti cal and Personal. The Rev. Joseph C >ok has arrived in Japan. He delivered a lecture in the early part of May at the Meiji Kaido in Tokio under tue auspices of the Japanese Young Men’s Christian Association. The “wickedest woman in E igland” Jane Johnson, aged eighty-four, has been converted She has been in Leeds prison two hundred and forty timep, and nearly as many limes in other jails. She is now preaching in Hull. Tiie total length of fencing in the the United States is upward of six million miles, and the cost over £2,000- 000,000. This, Hie Christian Register says, does not include theological fences, which are much more expen sive. A recent religious census in Prussia shows that that country contains 17,- 645,462 Protestants, 9,2 )5,136 Catholics, 363,790 Jews, 42,518 Dissenters, and 22,- 006 persons professing no religion. It is announced that Ihe Advance (Chicago) has been purchased by a party _of Boston gentlemen. It wil have for its Editor Mr. Robert West, well known as journalist,preacher and missionary superintendent. The Synod of the Old Catholic Church met at Olten in Switerland on June 2d, under the presidency of Bishop Herzog. E ghty deputies were present. The iffieial report respect ing the progress and prospects of the Church is pronounced as being highly satisfactory. The Home ot the Horse. There is no doubt that the original home ot the horse is not Europe, but Central Asia; for, since the horse in its natural state depends upon grass for its nourishment and fleetness for its weapon, it could not in the begin ning have thriven and multiplied in the thick forest-grown teiritory of Eurojee. Much rather should its place of propagation be sought in these steppes where it still roams about in a wild state. Here, too, arose the first nations of riders of which we have historic knowledge, the Mongolians and the Turks, whose existence even at this day is as it were combined with that of the horse. Frcm these regions the horse spread in all direc tions, especially into the steppes of Southern and Southeastern Russia and iito Thrace, until it finally found en trance Into the other parts of Europe, but not until after the immigration of the people. This assumption is,at least, strongly favored by the fact that the farther a district of Europe is from those Asiatic steppes, i. e., from the original home of the horse, the latter does the tamed horse seem to have mads its historic appearance in it. The supposition is further confirmed by the fact that horse-raising among almost every tribe appears as an art derived from ntighboring tribes in the East or Northeast. Even in Home the ox appears exclusively as the draught-animal in land operations at home and in the field, while the horse was used for purposes of war oDly Its employment in military operations was determined by swiftness alone That the value of the horse must orig inally have depended upon its fleet- ness, can easily be inferred from the name which is repeated in all the branches of the Indo-European lan guage, and signifies “hastening,’ “quick.” The same fact is ex emplitied by the descriptions of the oldest poets, who, next to its courage speak most of its swiftness. The Israelites of Salt Lake City (about thirty-five families) have united themselves in a society called Bene Israel, whose object it is to establish a non-sectarian school, and also place for their religious Instructions as Utah has no puolio schools except Mormon schools, where the ourriou lum comprises few subjects besides the tenets of Mormonism. The Last ot the French Dandies. M. Barbey d’Aurevilly writes char mingly, he talks well but it is his grert pride and joy to be a fop. He glories in the name as much as ever George III. gloried in the name of Briton. His faith on this subject is all set down in a great little book of which Le is tne author, which has Brummel for the hero of its story. He has des cribed it as a book “On a Fop, by a Fop, for Fops.” Foppishness, he de clares, “is miserably misunderstood ; it is but a form of vanity, and vanity is but a form of that desire to please which is lhe main spring of all good and of most great actions. It is only our incurable hypocrisy that keeps us from owning as much. But we must distinguish between foppishness and dandyism: foppishness is the desire to please others by the cultiva'ion of out ward graces ; dandyism is rather the desire to please one’s self. Dandyism is a special form of vanity of one race, the English, who surpass all the world in the power of being themselves. The Frenchmen may shine as a fop, but he is far too sympathetic to be a dandy. He may put on dandyism, and give himself every morning his little disgusted air, but it will be only as he puts on a garment. The distress ing thing is that the English them selves do not know what a treasure they possess in this manifestation of character. In a certain sense the cloths have nothing to do with it; it is the manner of wearing them; it is the man inside. Lord Spencer in rags was a dandy, and Brummel one day in a freak set the fashion of wearing napless coats by having his own scraped with glass. The next day half the coats in London were being treated in the same way. He intro duced a glove, and people raved of its beautiful fit, which showed the very outline of the nails beneath ; but his superlative daudj ism was not in the fit, it was in the fact that he had the gloves made by five different artists, one for each linger and one for the thumb. Byron knew what he was about when he said that he would rather be Brummel than Napoleon. Brummel had all the requisite gifts of natu^p for his great vocation—ele gance and a pleasing face ai a matter of course, with an intense »ang froid that nothing could discountenance or disturb, and, above all, a quick intelli gence, free from the genius that spoiled many another dandy of that glorious epoch. This last disturbing quality gave Sheridan his superabun dance of wit and his passion, both fatal to perfect equilibrium of manner, and it made Byron a dandy only for one moment, but something else the next. Brummel was a dandy at all times. Dandyism introduces the antique calm in the midBt of modern agitation; but the calm of the ancients came from the harmony of the facul ties, and from the force of a life freely developed, while the calm of daudy- ism is the repose of a mind which has made the tonr of many ideas, and which is too disgusted for animation. Brummel was always^.ike tb faultless dressing and t guor of his manners distinguished him as a boy at Eton, and he was known as “Buck Brummel,” the name of “Dandy” had yet to be. No other boy had such influence in the school, ex cept perhaps George Canning, and his was an influence of a totally different order. On leaving Oxford Brummel went into the Tenth Hussars, com manded by the Prince of Wales, after ward George IV , and was naturally at once taken to the stuffed bosom of that prince of fops. He possessed what the Prince must have esteemed rncst of all human things, “Youth, brought out iuto strong relief by the surety and coolness of a man who had seen life, and who knew he was its master, the fi iest and the strongest mixture of impertinence and of res pect, the geuius of dressing, protected by a power of repartee that was never without wit.” Women are aivvays on the side of force, sounded with their vermillion lips the fanfare of their ad miration for Brummel; they were the trumpets of his glory, but they re mained that and nothing else. And herein is the originality of this great Euglishman. He was not what the world calls a libertine. In a country like England it was “piquant” to see a man, and such a young man, who combined in himself every conven tional and every natural charm punishing women for their pretensions by abnegation of this sort. Brummel was a sultan without a handkerchief, and yet his influence over women was extraordinary. A duchess was over heard telling her daughter to pay par ticular attention to her attitude, ges tures and speech, if by chance Mr. Brummel should design to speak to her. She was right; his notice was fame, for he never did a common thing. Thus he gave up dancing almost at (he outset of his career. He simply stayed a few minutes at the door of a ball-room, took the whole thing in at a glance, judged it with a word, and disappeared, thus applj ing the famous principle of dandyism, “in society never go until you have produced your tffect; the moment it is produced, vanish.” He knew his crushing pres tige. The little treatise wir ds up curiously; below its last pa&o stands “Eud of Dandyism and of George Brummel.” It reads uncommonly like an epitaph. Such is Barbey d’Aurevilly, and such is his little gos pel. There have been worse in each kind. He believes in it all; and itt his Old World coat and cuffs, and fringed tie, he is himself the great sublime le draws.— London Daily News. \ Why He Weakened. In Detroit the other night a police man saw a man hanging around the entrance of a Michigan avenue hall in a queer sort of a way, and he asked him if he belonged to the order then in session up stairs. The man repied that he did and the officer inquired : “Then, why don’t you go up?” “Well, I was thinking of it.” “Haven’t been expelled, have you?” “Oh, no.” “Aren’t afraid of anybody?” “No.” “And you haven’t lost your inter est?” “I might as well tell you,” said the man, after beating about a while longer. “I went down to Toledo a days ago, and somehow the story come back here that I was drowned. My lodge passed resolutions to the effect that I was honest, upright and liberal, and a shining ornament, and that what was its loss was my gain. I wasn’t drowned, as you see, but I kind o’ hate to walk in on ’em and bust those resolutions. I’ve tried it three times and I can’t get higher up than the fifth stair before I weaken.” Pithy. Punch says Mrs. dropped off to sle^p iu church last Sunday. On be ing rallied for it by her husband, she replied that it must have been owing to the sootbiDg effect of the full chloral service! Angelina (who has never seen a revolving light before)—“H )w patient and persevering those sailors must be, Edwin 1 The wind has blowu that light out six times sinoe they first lit It, and they’ye lighted it again eaoh time. Professor to classical student: Atlas supported the world, who sup ed Atlas?” Student: “The questio has ofteiebeen asked, but never, as I am awards, satisfactorily ans IJiave alway