Newspaper Page Text
, VOL. 2.
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At Poe’s Grave.
NOVEMBER, EIGHTEEN SEVENTY-FIVE.
Oold is the paean honor brings,
And chill is glory's icy breath,
Vnd pale the garland memory brings
To grace the iron doors of death.
-Tame's echoing thunders, lona and loud.
'me pomp of pride that decks the pall,
the plaudits of the vacant crowd—
One word of love is worth them all.
With dews of grief our tjycsaro dim ;
Ah, lot the tear of sorrow start,
And honor, in ourselves and him,
The great and tender human heart.
p
1 Through many a night of want and woo
His frenzied spirit wandered wild—
Till kind disastor laid him low,
And Heaven roelaimed its wayward child.
Through many aycar his fame has grown,
Like midnighlj, vast—like, starlight, sweet,
Till now his genius fills a throne,
And nations marvel at its feel.
Ono meed of justice long delayed,
One crowning grace his virtues cravo:
Ah, take thou great and injured shado,
Tho love that sanctifies the grave 1
God’s mercy guard, in peaceful sleep,
The sacred dust that slumbers here ;
Aud while around this tomb we weep,
God bless, for us, the mourner’s tear 1
Ahjl may his spirit, hovering nigh,
•Jjflprce the dense cloud of darkness through,
vKn know with fame that cannot die,'
* And has tho world’s alfection too 1
—William Winter,
EQQSSISkILAGIV*
SWEET, itESTFUL HOME.
A “COTTEB’b SATURDAY night” IN DANBURY.
It is Saturday night—the dear close of
a tossing, struggling, restless week.
To-morrow is the Sabbath—when all
labor and care are held in abeyance,
Saturday night stands like a rock before
the day of rest, and says to toil aud
worry “ Thus far shalt thou come, and
no fart&ef/’. Blessed Saturday night.
The 'wearied fvusbaud and father ap
proaches his hcmq. He looks ahead
and sees the light streaming in cheerful
radiance from the windows, and wonders
if that boy has got. in the kindlings,
lie steps up on the stoop and opens the
door. His faithful wife meets him at
the entrance and greets him- with:
“ Why on earth don’t you clean your
feet, and not lug the house full of mud ?”
Don’t you know I’ve been scrubbing all
day!”-- And thus he steps into the
■bosom of his family, grateful for the
mercies he has received, aud thankful
-that he has a home to come-to when the
worry and care-arid-toil of the tveek are
done. Yes, he is home pow, and has set
his dinner pail on one chair-rind laid his
hat aud coat on another, and with his
eyes full of soap from the wash js shout
ing impetuously for the towel. Saturday
night in the household ! What a beau
tiful sight 1 The bright light, the cheer
ful figured carpet, the radiant stove, the
neatly laid .table, with the steaming tea
pot, the pictures op the walls, the spot
less curtains, the purring cat and the
bright eyed children rubbing the plates
with their lingers and looking hungrily
at the cannt and clu-rries. Even the
wearied wife is visibly affected, anil, as
she eteph to a closet with his hat and
.'coot, she unconsciously observes to her
ljtt band :
u Will you never learn to hang up your
things? or do you think I’ve got noth
ing else to do but to chase after you* all
the while you are in the house f”
lie makes no reply, hut as he drops
into,bis seat at the table, with a sigh of
relic'’, he says: ,t\ ‘
“ What’s the whiter with-that.internal
lamp? Is-the oil all out, or ain't, tjie
chimney been cleaned? It _ don't giVo r
no more light .than a firebug.”
“ Turn it up, then,” she - retorts. “It
T*as right enough when I put it on the
table, tut I suppose' the children have
been fooling with it. They never can
keep their hauls out of mischief for an
instant.” ■
“ I'll fool ’em he growls,” “ if- they
don't keep their fingers off'n things."
Alter this sally a silence reigns, broken
inly by a sudden' rustle of plates and
cutlery. Then comes a whisper from
one of the-youths, which is promptly
met in a loud k-y by the mother:
“ Not another -mouthful, I tell- you.
you have had one dish already, arid
that's enough. 1 ain’t going to he up
all nig''t -wrastling around with you,
youth* woman j and the quicker you
straighten that face the better it'll he for
YOU.” '* : ;
The offender looks with abashed iu
quiry into the faces of her brothers- and
sisters, and gradually steals a glance
into the face Of her father; but finding
*lO sympathy fhere, falls to making sur
reptitious gririiaees al the mother, to
(he relief of herself and the intense edi
ri'jftVion of the other children.
The tea is finally over, that delightful
Saturday night’s meal, and as the ap
peased father stretches back in Ins chair,
and looks dreamily at the flame dancing
ii! the stove, he says to bis first horn :
i s them kindlings cut young man ?’’
, Of ( curse they have not been, and
t;, e vouth replies:
“Tin gbinguight out to do it now-,’
t> you’d better ; and if I come home
- ain and find them kindlings not cut, 1
• .wf'eave a whole bone in your body ?
Uoyuhearme?
i “Yes, is.
* \ (1 wjll, then, start your boots.”
They are starled > nnd the relieved
! ther comes lack with nig eyes to the
~Jaj Uie,U ie, and walehts it abstractedly,
while his thoughts are busy with the
bright uitic'f at, ® lls of hj *““ dil y
ot ii Ainiy 0 ’ 1 S 0 * 11 ® down street, or are
CONYERS, GEORGIA: THURSDAY. JANUARY (3, 1876. •
you going; to sot there nil night!” asks
his wile, lie turns nrouud and looks at
her. Il‘s a sort of mechanical move
ment without any apparent expression.
“There'sgot'to he something got for
dinner to-morrew, and 1 want you to go
to Adam's an' see it my hat is dune, an’
Thomas must have a pair of shoes an'
there ain't'a bit of blacking in the
house,” reau icu the mother. You can
tell Burroughs that the last butter he
sent up ain't fit for a hog to cat and if
he ain’t got anything better than that
we don't want it. You'd better get a
small piece of pork while you are down,
an’ if you see Parks ask him when he's
coming here to fix that wall, lie has
got the plaster off, and there it stands,
and there's no use of trying to put tre
room to rights until the wall is fixe 1. I
don't see whitt the old fool is thinking of
to leave a room like that.”
Hereupon the head of the house gets
upon his feet, takes a brief, longing
glance at the j easmit slove,. ond wants
to knowl where in the thunder his coat
and hat are, and if nothing can be left
I whore it is put. Then she tells him that
’it ne looks where he ought to he'd find
the things fast enough. lie docs find
them, and then , goes into the kitchen,
and a momont Ja.ter appears with a very
red taec, and passionately asks if a bras
ket can be kept in that house for five
minutes at a lime, and moodily follows
his >vifc to where the basket is, and
looks still more moody when he is
brought face to face with it, and
sarcastically asked if he could sec a barn
if it was in front of his nose. Thus
primed with the invigorating utterances
of the home circle, lie takes up his bas
ket and goes down street, leaving his
faithful wife to stand as a wall of gran
ite between the children and the canned
cherries, and to finish up the work. As
he reaches the gate the door opens and
she shouts after him :
“ Remember to get some matches ;
there ain't one in the house; and don't
he all night, for I'm tired and w r ant to
get to bed at a decent hour, if possi
ble." .
“Go to bed, then, and shut up your
mouth," and with this parting injunct
ion he strides gloomily out into the
darkness. It is not exactly known what
ho is thinking oi as he moves along, hut
it is doubtless of the near approach of
the Sabbath. As he comes into,; the
light of the stores it is evident that
bright influences and tender memories
uni glad anticipations are weaving them
selves in his heart, for he meets Parks
with*a smile, and after a pleasant chat
about the winter's prospect, they part
laughing. Only twice in the trip does
his face fall, aud that's when he goes
in after her hat, and when he gets the
shoes.
,A half hour later he is in the grocery
sitting on a barrel, while his goods are
being put up, arid carrying on an ani
mated discussion with the grocer and
several acquaintances. At nine o'cloek
.he staits for home. He has several re
ceipted hills in his pocket—each of
which being in excess, ot course, ot
what his wife had estimated before he
left home; and as he struggles along
with ■an aching arm, and stumbles
against various obstructions, he remem
bers it is Saturday night, the cad <sf. the
week of toil, and tries to recall’ bits cl
verses and sentences of beautiful senti
ment appropriate to the hour. lie don't
believe in grumbling at everybody, and
so lie reserves his trouble with the gro
cery hill, his indignation at the miltitier,
and the various annoyances he has been
■subjected to, until he gets home, and
then lie hurls his thunder at all these
people and objects through the 1 head at
his wife. -. And she, the dear companion
of his life, having got the children from
back of the stove and to bed, by the
hair, and discovered that he has forgot
teu the matches, and got more bone
than meat m the steak, is fully [ire
pared to tell him just what he think for
him.
And while they talk the flame in the
•stove dances happily* the lamp sheds a
rich, soft glow over the room, and the
colors in the carpet and the pictures and
the reflective surfaces ot the mantel or
naments blend into a scene of quiet
beauty. It is tlie night before the Bab
bath—the calm, restful Sabbath—and as
the two workers prepare to seek their
well-earned repose, she says that if she
has got to be harrassed like this she’ll
be in her grave before the winter is over,
and he is confident that it the bills keep
amounting up as they are doing, the
wholeTatfiily will ho in the poorliouse
the first thing they know.
—Duribury News.
Dancing on Christmas Eve.
The custom of dancing on Christinas
eve is very old. It would be hard to
say that it began in 1012, but that is the
first Christmas dance on record, and tile
circumstanc. s attending it were as re
markable as they are well attested. Sev
eral young persons, so the story goes,
were singing and dancing in a ohurch-
Yard'oriChristmas eve, and their doing
so disturbed Father Robert, a priest,
who wai saying mass in the church. He
asked them to stop, but the more he
begged the more they danced. ’Buico
tliey would not cease dancing, lather
Robert, as the next best thing, prayed
that they might dance without ceasing*,
and so they did for a whole year, feeling
neither heat nor cold nor hunger, nor
thirst nor weariness nor decay o’f ap
parel ; but the ground on which they
danced, not having the same miraculous
support, wore away under them until
they were sunk tip to the middle. At the
iead ot the year the dancing was stopped
by Bishop Hubert's giving the company
absolution.
Kobe but coward's habitually dolor
their beards. The brave dye hut once.
How Poor People Lir e.
Alexander tho 11. gets $8,230,000 n
year, or $23,000 per day, and has the
run of his entire dominion, including
half of Europe and one third of Asia.
Francis Joseph receives $4,000,000
annually, or $10,034 per day, with a
large allowance of beer. Joe has a fam
ily, and the entertainment given Prussia
proved so expensive that a little retionoh
meot has been found necessary, lie
lias several pleasant residences in the
city aud country, with out-houses, sta
bles, wood-houses, etc., and is said to be
Very comfortably fixed up,
Frederick William is not paid quite
as well as his neighbor over in Austria,
but manages to keep up appearances on
$3,000,000, or $7,210 per day. lie is
said to suffer for want of funds, and is
forced to economize. .
Victor Emmanuel manages to get
along, iu Italy, on $2,400,000 a year, or
$0,572 per day, but this is owing to the
fact that the climate being mild in his
dominions, be is able to wear cotton
clothes.
Victoria receives only $1,250,000 a
year, or $4,000 per day ; but she owns
several large dairy farms, and her but
ter aud milk command the highest price
in the London market t besides she sup
plies the first families with vegetables.
she has married several of her daughters
to men of fine incomes, who help hei to
pay little bilb when she finds herself
pressed for change.
Scientific.
An increase of weight is produced in
silks by treatment with salts of iron and
astringents, and with salts of tin and
cyanides; this factitious increase of
w eight may be carried to the extent of
fiom one hundred to three hundred per
ci n*. It cannot be too widely known
that, by this adulteration, silk is ren
dered inflammable, under certain oircum
stances spontaneously so.
If a person eats bet wen meals, the
process of digestion of the food already
in the stomach is arrested, until the last
which has been eaten is brought into
the condition of the former meal,
just as it water is boiling and ice is
put in, the whole ceases to boil until
the ice lias been melted and brought
to the pomt, aud the whole boils togeih
er.
We have reed so many startling ac
counts of apparent death followed by
burying alive, that we may not bb un
wise in hearing the following in mind ;
A medical gentleman of Cremona states
that if a drop of ammonia be injected
beneath the skin, a red spot will appear
should the patient be alive; hut it death
has actually taken place no such effect
follows.
. Otld I’fcas,
Brougham, defending a rogue charged
with stealing a pair of boots, unable to
gainsay his client’s guilt, demurred to
his conviction because the articles appro
printed were half-hoots, and ha'f hoots
were no more boots than a half-guinea
was a guinea, or half a whole one. The
objection was overruled by Lord Est
grov.e, who 1 , with befitting solemnity,
said : “ I am of the opinion that hoot is
a nomen generale comprehending a half
boot and half a hoot; the moon is al
ways the moon, although sometimes she
is a half moon.” Hail Brougham proved
the boots to. be old ones, his man -would
probably have come off as triumph
antly as a tramp tried at Warwick for
stealing four live fowls. The fowls had
been “ rifted” in Staffordshire; still the
indictment was declared good, it being
held that a man committed felony in
every county through which he carried
stolen property; but when it Came oat
in evidence that the fowls were dead
when the thief was Caken, he was at
once set free, on the ground that he
*jould not be charged with stealing four
fowls in Warwickshire.
Tlic Social law of Postal Cards,
While on this topie wo may ask
whether postal cards have not now been
long enough in uso to admit of an in
quiiy as to the nature of tho courtesies
and social laws that do or should per
tain to them ? It may be asked whsth
er people are under any obligations to
respond to an Open letter of the nature
of a postal card 1 Could one acknowl
edge a postal errd as an “ esteemed fa
vor”? If the postal card be purely on
the business of the writer, what- notice
must the recipient take of the fact that
no stamp is inclosed for postage on the
reply ? One sees some really Napoleou
ic strokes ot meanness as the outcome
ot trie postal card system. The audac
ity is sometimes, superb;. A writer saves
a sheet of paperj dll envelope; a stamp
for postage, aud also the usual stamp
for return postage—all by one dextrous
postal card. The spirit of economy
could no farther go. But really, what
rigiils in courtesy have letter writers
who do not consider their correspond
ents ot importance enough to give their
epistles to them the poor compliment of
an iliojosuro? How is and communication
to be entertained when the writer con
fesses by a postal card that it isn’t worth
a sheet of paper and a postage stamp ?
That the postal card is very useful for
circular notes, for announcements, for
communicating any simple fact that
does not call for a response, no one can
deny. But we submit that social cus
tom ought to establish that a missive of
this ki;id calling for a response, except
ing on business matters concerning the
recipient, is an impertinence ; and that a
postal card, partaking or tho nature of
correspondence as ordinarily understood,
is entitled to no respect or considera
tion whatsoever.
— ApiiUton's Journo 1 ..
* * Hospitality.
True hospitality is never loudly and
noisily demonstrative. It never over
whelms you with il greeting, though
you have not a doubt of its perfect sin
cerity. Yo are tint disturbed by live
creaking ot tho .domestic machinery,
suddenly driven nl unwonted speed for
your accommodation. Quietly it does
its work, that it may put you in peacea
ble possession of its results. Ho is not
the tnio host, she is not the best hostess,
who is tvor going to and fro will? har
ried action, and f? itried m.iiiuor, and
heate 1 eountonanoo, as if to say, “ See
how, hospitable I can bo i’’ but rather
the one who takes your coming with
quiet diguity and noiseless pains-taking;
who never obtrudes attention, yet is
very attentive all tho while ; who ma fees
you, in ono word—-tho most exprewive
word in tho English tongue—to bo at
home. There is no richer, deepei, lar
ger hospitality than that.
—i -a.
Tlio Way Scamlal Goes.
A wise man gave his friend this ad
vice : “ If you lake a house in a terrace
a little way out of town, bo caretul to
select the centre one—because a story
never loses by the telling ; and if you
live in the middle house, the tales which
might he circulated to your prejuoico
will only have half tho distance to travel
that they would if you lived at either
extreme, and so yon will have twice as
good a character as those residing at
either end. The following fact will
prove tho wisdom of my advice: ‘The
servant at No, 1 told the servant at No.
2 that her master expected his old
friends—the Baileys—to pay him a vis
it shortly; No. 2 told No. 3 that No. 1
expected to have the bailiffs in his house
every day; No. 3 tofii No. 4 that it was
all up with No. 1, for they could not
keep the bailiffs out; and No. 4 told
No. 5 that the officers were after No. I,
and that it was as much as lie could do
to prevent the levy ot an execution in
his house, and that it was nearly killing
his poor dear wife 1 And so it went on
increasing until it got to No. 32, who
c mfidentially assured No. 33 that the
Bow street officers had taken up the
gentleman at No. 1, for killing his poor
dear wife with arsenic, and that it was
confidently hoped and expected that lie
would be executed.
v— J —English Paper.
The Present Conti'tioii of the
South.
In many things the South is making
rapid advancement, and her condition is
being very much improved. Her man
tactures in all branches have been large
ly From 28,087 in 1850,
they, have grmVn to 31,370 in 1860, anil
58,195 in 1870. SRe is fast working up
her raw materials into fabrics, and when
this is universally done her towns will
become hives of industry. Her iron in
dustries are receiving greater attention,
and many hands are employed by them.
Her railroads, which in 1850
but 1,27 G miles, were increased to 9,182
miles in 1860, and to 12,468 in 18tW
since when many additional miles hav™
been added. The crops of all kinds
are increasing year by year. In 1850
she raised 2,233,718 hales of cotton,
which were increased in 1860 to 4,861,-
292 bales. The war then burst upon
her, from the effects of which she is now
recovering; and in 1870 the cotton crop
amounted to 3,011,1}t>9 hubs; in 1873
to 3,850,000 hales. In other crops she
is doing equally as well. The sugar
crop, which, in 1873 was but 70,000
hogsheads, in H 75 is estimated at
nearly 125,000 hogsheads. So with
molasses, which is equally encouraging.
These are important and well attested
facts, showing the greatness of her re
sources, and the vigor of her people.
The number of hanks in the South was
215 in 1873, with a capital of $46,392,-
500, and a circulation of $36,895,704.
This fact shows more clearly the pros
perous condition than aught else, in her
requiring so large a capital lor transact
ing her business aud carrying on her in
dustries.
Gladstone. ,
Among tlve many carious stories told
of Mr. Gladstone, the following is the
latest and most characteristic: About a
fortnight ago lie went to a second hand
book-seller and bargained for the sale of
his whole library* which was cleared ac
cordingly, including -hooks one would
think nobody in his senses would dream
of ; parting with —presentation copies,
dedication copies, copies filled with Iris
own manuscript notes, (Maguire’s “Irish
in America” notably so), and all the
copies containing his own [dates.
The day alter, down rushes his relitlive,
Lord and says he must buy
tip all the books sold by Mr; Gladstone.
Wonderful to tell, in an dge so yordid,
and one of the craftiest .of all crafts in
buying in the cheapest and selling in
the dearest of maikjls. the bookseller
made nothing of his rare opportunity,
but sold hack again at the smallest trade
commission. Lord Palmerston used to
say that Mr. Gladstone would ‘die either
in a Roman Catholic Monastery or in a
mad house. At the recent sale of his
china, a bidder objected that one of the
vases was cracked: “ And so is the
owner,” said a bystander.
A Bat, Statu.— The medical faculty
of Augusta, Ga., is engagid in amputat
ing a negro of foity years from a mass
ot tumors. One of these is* twenty
tqven inches by twenty live, and so
1 heavy that, the pwuer had to carry it in a
j ding; besides this,.there arc some three
I hir'dred other o its ot smaller di
linen-ions, varyi.ig in size from that of
i a pigeon's to it lieu’s egg.
“ Aii Obstructionist.”
A man who Ims money and won’t pay
his debts because “times are so hind
%n money so tight,” is a terrible ob
struclionist, and stands ns much in lib
own way as in that of the oommunily.
When the stream of currency is low,
that is the very time to clear out all
obstructions and let it flow as rapidly as
possible. By this means it will bo made
to do double duly and go that much
forthvi' to tips general relief—and if pos
sible to he more prompt than ever ; ’for.
after all, no groat amount of money i>•
needed if vve keep it moving,
IVftn particularly, when they have a
great deal duo them, should be the very
last to hoard in.light times, for if they
do hoard, they are throwing the whole
weight of their action and example
against prompt and rapid payments, on
which all their own personal interests
are dependent, , Their best hopoa hang
on the idea that other people will not be
as short-sighed and selfish i.s they are,
but pay out freely, like gentlemen.
And here is another idea willed*,ought
to be laid to heart and put iu practice in
so-called “light times.” Sustain the
credit of your fellow-citizens as lar as
possible. Don’t lend itching and greedy
ears to rumors affecting the oo.rtniereial
standing of others. Discourage such
gossip, which in nine cases out ol ten is
groundless. I’ut the best face oil mat
ters, and keep tip your own courage as
well as that ot your neighbor’s. Ke
meraber, that apprehension is almost
always worse tha’n reality. Rumor is
seldom justified by fact ; and tho very
essence of tight times is mental depress
ion. That is the real malady to be com
batted, This is tho sling in tho ser
pent's tail, and the men ol hope, cour
age and fortitude are tho only men, at
Mich limes, who are not busy iu aggn
valing the public disorders,
—ifacun Telegraph Sf Messenger.
A Few Words tri Girls.
A pastor of a chwoli ia one tf our
large cities said to me not long ago : “ I
have officiated at forty weddings since I
came here, and in every case, save one,
I felt that the bride was running an
awful risk.” Young men of bad habits
and last tendencies never marry a girl
of their own sort, hut demand a wile
ahoveajuspicion. So pure, swoot women,
kept from the touch of evil through
girlhood, give themselves with all their
costly dower of womanhood, into the
keeping of mpn who, in base association,
have learned to undervalue all that he
'ongs to them, and then find no repen
tance in the sail after years.
There is but one way out of, this that
I can see, and that is for to requiie
in associations and marriage, purity for
purity, sobriety for sobriety, aud honor
for honor.
There is no reason why the young
men of this Christian land should not he
just as virtuous as its young women, and
if the loss of your society ho the price
they aro forced to pay for vice, they,
wUl|pt pay it.
,—■ ■
yglio Pang-liter of a,Hundred Earls.
?A *New York correspondent tells a
ppnatitic story of a young l*dy now re
siding in the metropolis who may he
seen daily passing through the streets,
or riding on the suburbs, with a roll of
manuscripts in her hand, on h- r way to
the offices,flf the magazines or the week
ly papers, trying to dispose of the pro
duction upon wdiich she is dependent
for her daily bread. sho is the daugh
ter of the Earl of Gainsborough,, w hose
London residence is on Cavendish
Square, as the owner of the superb es-*
tales ami palaces of Exton Park, OaJ<
ham and Cottesmore, in Uiitlandsliire,
hut his brilliant daughter, Lady Blanche
(wtio.se baptismal name, as will he seen
by reference to any recent edition of
Burke’s Peerage, was Blanche Elizabeth
Mary Anunnciata), Ls lost to his sight, if
not to his memory. Iler mother was
the deceased wife of Ihe Earl of Errol!.
Her two brothers are Viscount Camden
and Lord Edward, and her two younger
sisters are Lady (Jeojg'ha and Lady
Frances., YyiiiloJ**' her" twenty-fiist
year she fell in litfo with a young .organ
ist named Muroliy, and, contrary to the
wish of her family, she married him.
The mesalliance of tlio daughter ot so
great a house wap a surprise and horror
to the Earl; who in Iris wrath disowned
her, forbade her returning to the ances
tral halls, and cut her off from all the*
heritage of the family. Mr. and Mi;s.
Murphy .soon experienced the trial of
penury and. adversity in Li ndon, and
four years ago, or within the' first year
after their marriage, they arrived in New
York, where they again felt the pressure
of straitened circumstance. But Lady
Blanche was persevering, and < some of
her sparkling manuscripts soon found
acceptance and brought her a lilt e
come. Among other things she con
tributed to the Galaxy a serjes ,of bril
liant essays on English high life 'and the
English aristocracy, which attracted
much notice.
BoituowiNO Tkoobiib.—“ worst
evil” (says the proverb) “are those that
never arrive." • By way of practical
counsel to all borrowers of trouble, I
would say—Face the real ilitlicul ies and
trpuhles of life, and yog, won t have
time for practic ng the aft of self tor
menting. Tho most contented people
in. the world are those who are most oc
cupied in alleviating, with Christian
heart and hand, the sorrows that flesh
is heir to. Visit the homes ol ignorance
,-uist poverty and vice, and in the f.ice of
ihe terrible realities you will there wit -
ness, your own petty cares will seem us*
nothing. The anxieties ot tk? fancy,
will vanish altogether, while you will
he far more abiiT to hear those b’ii>k*i s j
which, though real will seem light by
comparison —[Our Own fireside. . (
IE 0 © ID 8 ->
i President Gram's proposition for
I Stale taxation of church propery is nqp
meeting with warm.approval is sources
from which hearty suppoy, was nn'icipn
led. Many of the religious organs'" rd"
Protestant denominations i ' fo
sueli a measure, and the woailuy churches
ot the large cities are not all favorable
to it. The prevailing idea, says the Bal-
I i.norc Gazette, that the Gath olio Church
euiujs special privileges in the exemp
tion ot its property is widely erroneous.
In tho past ter years tho accumulation
ot property by the other denominations
has nearly kept pace with that ot tho
Calffolio Church. Of the estimated to
tal or $334,0011,000 ob taxab'e ’ohurcli
property in the United States not less
than $204,0 >O,OOO is owned by Prblos
taut denominations, leaving the amount
liehl by Cathrliws at abmit $00,000,00 ).
Whatever may bo said of thb wisdoat
ot the President's suggestions, an analyj*
sis will show that it Js not a aecturiau
question, atleiyit,. , ~ ,
■ Rev. says that it half
the petit iotwwhioh have been addressed
to Mr, Moody .bad been offered to G.n>
we sliou.d now bo in the midst of u
precious revival.
Tho Aineiican Board of Foreign Mis
sions lets I'odtlocd its.s2oo,ooo deficiency
to about $ >,OOO, and dies appropriated
for the expenses ot the coming year as
much, within $25,000, as was spent iu
1875.
The Na iouul Temperance Society
have moved on the Centennial Commis
sioners in brave array, and requested
them to cancel all giants they have made
lor the sale of w ine at the Centennial.
An international exhibition on the tem
perance plan would he a novelty.
Mr. Beecher says ho does not choose
to he tried on the main charge before
“ a council dt ministers who come to
gether on Tuesday and must go homo
on Saturday.’’ Any “ legitimate tribu
nal" ho will not evade. •' But,” liq says,
“ if 1 can help it, 1 will not sit before a
jury of foxes aud wolves."
Nine Methodist missionaries aro-un
der appointment for kja*o.rn
will shortly sail for.their respective mi>
sions. One goes to South America, one
to Bulgaria, lour, will join, the Bombay,
Bengal, mid Madras Missions,%ud two
aro lor Lbo Indian Afissiop, , , ,
The Rev. Henry Boehm, better konvtrn
as Father Boehm, the oldest preacher of
tkt- Methodist Church in the country,
ami probable the oldest clergy man in tho
world, died last week at thermae ot
his grand daughter, near iflLtaotid,
Staten Island. On tne Bt.lt
the one hundredth uiiuiversHH^F his
birlli was celebrated ut Jersey*
the Newark Conference, when father
Ihn Inn submitted an outline of his owrt
rile aud labor in the Methodist Church,
arid addresses were made by other
clergymen; The excitement ol the . oo
tasioii prostrated him, and though lie
rallied, lie was again seized with illness
oil the 12lhof JieoombiT, whi e attempt
ing to preach in the village eburuh at
Richmond, S. f. JIo was born in Lan
caster county, Pa. ile joined the Meth
odist .Church in 1797, He. served in
the ministry in Peunsylyaniu, Delaware
and Maryland, and was the-travelling
companion oi" Bishop Ashufy, Fop
more than thirty years. Esther Boehm
lias been in the New Jersey Conference,
and as early as JBt2 was on tho list of
supernumerary preachers.
Bishop Haven learns that the 'general
opinion of those who know him best is
that he never uptns Ins mouth hut he
puts his foot iu it. ( ,
The question of nrinisterid support is
one ot* tue properties,of every regulated
clerical convention. It is a matter of
interest how country pastors manage ly
make ,both ends u cot on a siflaiy of
’[A politician cah ouaipy a s6t)tj
position and iivo jn a freestone front on
the aveupe and in the course of five
years stow away iu first class securities
like $500,0)4; hut it is 4
[n-culrar knuk, arid clergymen don’t seem
to possess it. The papers aro getting
excited ovt.n the fact that even bread,
and butter are luxuries not always to be
depended o,n by. frontier parsons. In
Brampton, England, a church us solved
the problem by calling a layman to its
pulpit. He is a .mechanic, aud is to
ply his trade all the week and preach on
Sundays. 'Those pews will not sell at a
premium, and yet we sometimes think it
would do clergymen no harm to know
a hit more about the way in which man
live and work every day... Wt might
not like to see Dr. Tyng or Mr. Uep-.
worth selling roast ctpcotimis at tlii;
street corner ; hut the fact remains Chaj.
ministers would preach better if they
knew more of real life. There is, very
little use in silting,in a cloud and -iuvitr
ing men to cyme up to yoiifc elevation,. •
when you know there isn’t any ladder
and tliiu men haven't wings. Yet this
is wliat a great many tk
W *i
Some of the . religious papers ami
strenuously advocating .t'Ho doctrine of
.lie “higher Christian life.”. We meed
more aud' belter- illustrations of the,
lower Christian life.” Wo always susa
poet a man who prolesses that be has
“ committed no sin 111 ten years.” He
may he very profitahle'as an clement of
the prayer meetin/, but wo would rath-?
er do business with a Han of ordinary,
honor. We have seen men so fea-fully
good ihut they-were a little sharp at a..
bargain.^
INTO.