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F. R. FILDES, Editor.
VOL. VI.
AMICUS’ LETTER,. No. VII.
The reader may hare hastily come to
the conclusion, that tho argument of my
three last letters are mysterious and
heterodoxies), inasmuch as I insist that
there is no such a being as a Batan, a
devil, a living, moving representative
of the great principle ot evil; and then
to assert that there was and is a neces
sity for a Savior, a redeemer, and that
. Christ came to earth to redeem and save
a world of that be lived,
died, and was resurrected to accomplish
the Divine plan. Just here I anticipate
the reader’s inquiry: What was the
necessity of a Savior’s long life of sor
low and painful death, and resurrection, J
if there is no Satan—for without a satan, j
there can he no punishment in the future j
world? Having asserted repeatedly
that there is no such being, and having
clearly shown that your own scriptural;
evidence utterly fails to establish his
existence, I can safely agree with yon,
that there is no punishment beyond the
gravo. If we search the law given by
God to man, in the garden, we find the
penally threatened, to follow the act
immediately, to wit: In the day thou
catest thereof thou shall surely die. In
God’s direct dealings with man, there is
not an instance of record where any
punishment was threatened beyond the I
grave. In the first sad scene of death :
' on earth, the unprovoked and unmitiga- 1
ted fratricide that brought to earth the
Judge and executive of the universe, to
avenge the evil done, the same God
That subsequently said to man, t ven
geance is mine and I will repay, fTro
nounced the sentence when and where
it was to be executed: Gen. iv, 11, 12 —
“And now art thou cursed from the
earth, which hath opened her mouth to
receive thy brother’s blood from thy
hand.” When thou tillest the ground,
it shall not henceforth yield unto thee
her strength; a fugitive and a vagabond
shall thou be in the earth.” Was the
punishment a sufficient expiation of the
crime? II not, who dare to increase it? |
Man dare not, for God said, “whosoever!
slayeth Cain vengeance shall bo taken j
on bim seven foldto wit: seven times |
the amount of punishment Cain iiad to !
endure. Did God deal with duplicity!
towards Cain? Did he only announce a
jortionofthe sentence and reserve a!
portion to be executed in another world, j
without notifying Cain of the dread I
consequences that awaited him there, !
without any means being provided, and j
being made known to him whereby he j
might avoid it? Hero we have God's
positive decree; is it defective? By
what authority do wo attack il? And j
by what authority do we propose to j
amend the recoid of tfrcl supreme Judi j
catory? Isn’t it too manifest to admit
of argument, that God intended a tem
poral punishment for the temporal of
fense? Isn’t it manifest that he did not
intend an eternal punishment, from the
declaration: “Whososlayeth Cain ven
geance shall be taken on him seven
fold”? If so, then the slayer of Cain
would have suffered seven fold tempor
ally, and seven eternities after death.
I have no hesitancy in asserting that
there is no such thing as endless pun
ishment after death. Taking this nega
tive position, I insist that the affirma
tive cannot be sustained; that the posi
tion is untenable; that it is not founded
in justice or reason; that there is noth
ing in nature or revelation to justify
each a conclusion. Th> re is no proof
positive, presumptive, or inferential, to
bring us to the conclusion, that Gi and is
Vindictive aud unjust. It is an iniqui
tous libel against our maker, God, and
the grossest infidelity to Jesus Christ, I
Who lived and died’for us. Don’t mcr-,
cy forbid it; and where, iu the great j
principle of justice, do yon find it, and
in what difficult and intricate portion of
the law do you discover it; in what nook
or corner in the temple of reason is it
bid away, that he who honestly searches
for it can’t find it? The truth is, in none
of these is it to be found. Was the pun
ishment provided and decreed belore
man’s creation? If so, where is the jus
tice in bringing ns into existence, so or
ganized, constituted, and temporised,j
that it is almost impossible for us to es
cape it, upon your theory. How can
there be justice in creating ns, subject
to temptation, placing us in a world'
Bnrronnded by vice and folly, and then !
send a devil, educated in Heaven, with
all the native and acquired elocution of
tho Angelic world, to win us from good ;
to evil, from virtue to vice, from weal to
woe, from peace and joy to misery and
sorrow; from the bliss of a heaven, to
the tortures of a hell; from tho associa
tion of angels to companionship with de
mons? If your God has treated you
thus, for what do you love him? Why
ask me to love such a God? lam human
| and cannot. And if I believed these to
|be the characteristics of God, and tell
j you with my dying breath that I loved
i him, I would die with a lie on my unhal
, lowed lips. Was the pit dug and the
j fire kindled after man's transgression
jto inflict the penalty? If so, it does not
apply to Adam’s transgression, for jus
tice ignores an ex post facto law. I
j wish I knew which position theologians
take; whether the law in reference to
endless punishment was in existence at
ihe creation of man or not. If it was in
existence, the penalty cannot, injustice,
be enforced, because it was not known
to Adam. If it was not in existence
thdn, it is not God’s law, for his laws
ate from all eternity, unchangeable, irn
mnliblc.
It was not my purpose, nor was it in
accordance with my plan, to show the
inconsistency' ot the doctrine of endless
punishment, in this letter, but to reason
upon the necessity cl the Savior’s advent
into the world, the purpose of his life,
his death, and resurrection. But the
reader will perceive that the digression
was almost inevitable and will therefore
pardon it
We h aye heretofore agreed with the
theologians’as to the historical fact ol
the Savior’s advent, his life, death, and
resurrection. And.have also announced,
that we differed wish them, as to what
was to be accomplished in tho Divine
plan, by' the life, death, and resurrection
of the Savior. And just here, I will no
tice what I conceive to bo the absurdi
ties of the theology ot the day", in refer
ence to the Divine plan of salvation.
Their first position is that man was last,
spiritually, by what they denominate
the disobedience and fall of Adam, and
that a'! tho race of mankind was con
demned spiritually for the act of one.
And to rescue man from that inherited
condemnation, a Savior, the God incar
! nate, must needs die to save their souls
from hell; and must be resurrected in
order that man might be resurrected
This is their theory on this subject.
| Tliis is what is promulgated from the
pulpit, and inculcalted, and indoctrina
ted, and interwoven into the delicate
| fibres of weak and simple minds. This
|is the plan of their God, —not mine,
i Sucli a theory does not asci ibe to God
j infinite wisdom, but impliedly charges
him witli aii overt act of imbecility and
j the grossest fantacy of a lunatic. llow
! can such a plan be regarded by rath nal
I and intellectual Icings, as perfect, or
i even within the pale of the perview ol
reason. Here is a synopsis of your the
ology:
God made man immortal, hypotheti
cally; lie might die if lie chose to. God
made man for his own glory; but in or
der that the omnipotent I cart might
grieve, and the Infinite mind repent,
because he did make man, lie improvised
a devil, in tlso shape of a serpent, en
dowed him with Heavenly logic, and
with seductive, bewitching and seraphic
elocution, that he might deceive and
mislead a man, made by God for his
own glory, and thereby pervert the ob
ject of Deity; and that God’s infinite de
cree of man’s immortality might lie re
voked, liy the deceit ol Satan and the
act of man. Your theology further
teaches us that God made a man, impro
vised a devil, and therefore poor man is
in a most inextricable difficulty. But
the excellency if your theology pursues
him, and teaches us that God in his in
finite wisdom and mercy, opened Hie
gates of Heaven, and provided a hypo
thetical escape from Hell. Arid you, iu
your exceeding benevolence, teach us
the Divine scheme, and how it was ex
ecuted. Here is your plan, God Incar
nate died that man, who, by bis works
are justified, might be saved from Hell.
Now, tbe logical conclusion from the
analysis of your theory, is that the for
bidden fruit did not only deprive man of
his immortality, but crucified Incarnate
Omnipotence.
Tbe couverts to this faith and theory,
are your converts, not God’s. God's
convcrtions are from the lovo of the
world to the love of God. Your con
verts go to Heaven, not from love and
gratitude to God, and not particularly
because it is a place of happiness, but
because they are Hell-scared, and afraid
of fire, I have been told by many of
HERE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE’S RIGHTS MAINTAIN, UNA WED BY PEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN.
QUITMAN, GEO. a SEPTEMBER 22, 1871.
your pet saints, that if they believed
there was uo Hell, they would not cate
what they did. I wish to say to all
such mistaken Christians, that they are
not saved—they have not realized tho
efficacy of the plan of redemption. Have
you studied the plan of salvation from
what you are to be saved, and how it is
to be done? Oh, yes, jon understand
it. And right here, with your face
lengthened and your eye balls protrud
ing, tortured to death in anticipation,
you exclaim, I must bo lost in Hell, or
saved iu Heaven.
Now, reader, I propose to give you
the Bible theory, as I understand it, and
let you draw the contrast. God made
man mortal, and man must die. God
made man for his own glory, and in his
creation lie will be glorified, for every
knee shall bow, and every tongue shall
confess his name. Man became wise,
by what scented to be an act of disobe
dience, but in reality it was in strict
conformity to the will of his maker. If
it was not IT is will, then there most be
another will, and another power, supe
rior to his, some where in the universe.
He must have been the governing
cause, or there must be some other gov
eruor that snatched from him the scep
tre of his dominion, and wields the su
pterne power of the universe. My God
says he governs all tilings agreeable to
tho counsel ol his own will. Isay he
governed Adam’s inclinations and con
duct, and the result of Adam’s act was
in stfict accordiyice with his will, or the
Bible is a fable.* lUiejjovcrned Adam’s
conduct and Adam id his will, tbero is
no justice in damning him. God never
made a devil and empowered him to ins
llticncc his creatures to pervert his will.
Man learned good and evil at the same
time, and is as praiseworthy for the dis
covery of good as he is censurable for
tho discovery of evil; and is jusl as
criminal for the act by which ho pos
sessed himself of the knowledge of good
and evil, as the moon is for reflecting
the rays of the sun. Jesus Christ did
not die to save souls from endless Hell,
nor did the resurrection of matt depend
upon his resurrection. Man’s soul was
never, under any Divine law, a subject
of endless punishment. Hit resurrec
tion was just as certain before Christ’s
resurrection as it was afterwards. Do
you not see that the execution of these
plans, originating in the Divine mind,
did not, nor could not, depend upon
mortal contingcnces? If they did, there
is no distinction between Infinite and
finite plans. I think I have laid down
the basis of your theory as you preach
it, and mine as I belie ve it; and I foci
confident that the whole tenor of the
scriptures, sustains my views, and iu
no wise sustains yours. And here the
issue is made up.
Now for tho purpose of Christ’s ad
vent, life and death. First, he came to
live, to accomplish one purpose, and to
die to accomplish auothcr. Neither one
of which purposes is embraced in your
theory. That the purpose of his life may
be manifest to tho reader’s mind, we
must concede that the human family had
alienated themselves from God, by the
love and practice of evil. That by the
persistent practice of sin they had
brought upon themselves its dread con
sequences. They had departed from
the holy principles of good and from
God. The world of mankind had be
come, morally, prostitutes and debauch
ed; and God’s children were suffering the
terrible consequences of their own acts
—the had effects of theirown bad causes
—the great principle of evil controled
(hy tlie ascendency it had trained over
then:) their every thought and action.
There was no power within the grasp
of their minds to lead them to tho paths
of virtue and peace, and to enable them
to resist the evils of their nature. They
were children lost in the woods, away
from their Father, God, and mother,
Mercy. The piteous cry of their bewil
derment in the wilderness reached the
parent’s sensitive ear, and God in pity
came down to live with them, to show
them tbe paths of virtuo and to lead
them to peace and joy, or, in other wotds,
to point out the way of escape and the
way of salvation from their sins. The
language of the Savior is, “I came to
save men from their sins.” llow did ho
propose to do it? By the establishment
of tbe kingdom of Heaven on earth, that
they might come into it, npon the terms
specified, there to receive Divine instruc
tion, to enable them, iu the future, to
avoid the consequences of evil,. Re- :
dexnption and salvation arc two separate
and distinct offices. Man was hopeless
ly lost in sin, alienated from his fathers
house, and knew not how to return. Ho
knew no good. And when lie would
have done good, lie was overpoweted
with evil desires. The office ol Redeem
er was to rescue man from the thraldom
of iniquity, sin, and suffering, in this
world, consequent upon his depravity.
And then the office of salvation was to
save him from sinning, in Christ’s king
dom, on earth. Then the plan of redemp
tion and salvation was and is complete.
But all were not saved, and why? Will
bo explained in the next.
EVA, THE MASON’S CHILI).
Chatter I.
Faster and faster spread the flames,
and now the ship was enveloped in a
fiery sheet. Men and women rushed
madly over tho side to seek a quicker
Jhul less painful death. Tho boats, with
one exception, had been over-loaded and
capsized. There were hasty prayers,
and heart rending ctics of misery and
distress. Death hovered, vulture-like
over his victims; some clung desperate
ly to the vessel’s side, some supporting
themselves in the water by articles
snatched hastily from the burning ship,
and with which they had leaped wildly
into the sea. The Captain sang through
his trumpet “take heart, and sustain
yourself as long as possible. A ship is
coining to our relief.”
James Durant stood upon the almost
deserted deck, with his only child, hut
four years of ago, folded closclj iu his
arms. His eyes swept tho horison in
search of ti e ship to which the Captain
had alluded. He discovered it at length
hut it wap at least four miles off. Be
fore the ship could arrive, they must be
burned to ucath; or, if lie sprang as oth
ers did down into tho water, both he
and tho child would bo drowned, for he
was not a swimmer.
. The little arms were twined about his
neck, the pale check rested confidingly
against his own, but the brave child did
not tremble.
‘O, my God, is there no help?' cried the
doeparing father, as the flames swept
nearer, and ho felt that his present po
sition could he held but a little longer.
‘Hera, give the child to mo, and I will
save her,’and turning quickly Mr. Du
rant stood face to face with a stranger
who held a life preserver in his hand.
‘Quick!’ there is no time to bo lost.
The child can have my life preserver,
and it will float her easily. Yonder is
another ship; I have been watching it
the past five minutes. It will reach us
in half an hour at most. 'There, is that
fastened securely. Now, liitlejgirl, lam
going to throw you into the water. You
are not afraid?’
‘No, no, but my papal’
The father caught her frantically in his
arms.
‘My darling Eva, you may never see
your father again; hut do not fear—God
will guard you, and somebody will find
you and care for you.
If you tiovor see papa again, remem
ber he is in heaven with mama.’
‘Has she no relatives?’ asked the
stranger. Q •
‘None ill thy: country: I am from Eng
land and am traveling for her health.’
‘Take that, pin from your bosom and
fasten,it to her clothing.’
‘Heaven help you for the thought, said
the father; and in a moment tho square
and compass was glistening in the bos
om of tho child and tho Blrangor took
her from her lather’s arms, saying: ‘I
am stronger than you; sho must be end
beyond the reach of these poor drowning
wretches, or they will rob her of her lilt
preserver.’
The white drapery fluttered through
tho air, ondsank below the waves; then
rising, it floated, lightly upon the wa
ter*.
James turned to the stranger with
tearful eyes:
•May God bIeRS and preserve you, no
blest of niett. But you and myself must
bo lost.'
‘No, I am a good swimmer, and here
is a p : cco of a board with which you
can sustain yourself till relief arrives.
The father cast another glance at the
white speck floating rapidly away and
with an inward “God preserve her!”
sprang into the sea, followed by the
stranger; but the two floated io differ
ent directions, and they saw each other
no more.
Two hours later, James Durant a
woke, as from the sleep of death and
found himself in the cabin of a strange
ship, with kind and sympathizing faces
all around him. In a moment ho real
ized all that had past, and said eagerly,
though feeble:
‘My child, my iittlo Eva; is she safe?’
There was no response, and a low
moan escaped the father’s lips.
‘Courage sir,’said a lady with tearful
eyes, ‘some of the passengers were saved
hy another ship.’
The father’s countenance lighted.
‘God grant that she nay be saved!’
Mr. Durant recovered his usual
strength in a few hours, and sought a
mong the saved for the stranger who had
proven himselt so true a Masonic broth
er, but he was not to bo found.
‘He must, be on the other ship,’said
Mr. Durant, ‘and he will care for Eva.’
Both ships were at port in New York
1 tho following day, but although Mr. Du-
rant found tho stranger who had be
friended him, and who proved to be a
Mr. Waldsworth, from a Southern city,
Eva, had been seen by uo one, and was
given up as lost.
Chapter 11.
‘Here, wife, is a child that has just
been washed upon the beach. She is
not cold and stiff, but I think she is now
dead. Let us have some warm flannels
immediately, and tell Thomas to run for
Dr. Hunt.
It was long before the quivering lash
es and feeble fluttering of the heart gave
token that success would crown the ef
forts ot Eva’s rescuers; but by-and-by,
the lids parted, and revealed two large
liquid sky blue eyes, that wandered front
face to face in a bewildered way, and
closed wearily.
I fear she will not recover very rapid
ly, said the doctor. She has a delicate
constitution and will require the best of
care.’
’Poor child!’said Mrs. Turner, ‘ldo
not wonder she is nearly dead, but who
can she be? Some terrible accident
must have occurred at sea.’
‘You bad better examine her clothing,’
said tho doctor; ‘perhaps you may find
some clue to Iter relations.’
Mrs. Turner lifted tho gossamer white
dress, and turned it over and over. The
square and compass placed by Mr. Du
rant flashed npon all at once. The doc
tor and Mrs. Turner looked at each other,
but neither spoke, and Afrs. Turner did
not notice tho tear that glistened in
her husband’s eye.
The doctor’s fears that Eva would not
recover rapidly, proved to he well found
ed; days and weeks of fever succeeded
in awakening to life, during which she
talked incoherently of “papa” and “poor
dead mama,” and of tho “burning ship’,’
and of "hunger.” Sho finally awoke to
conciousncss, and asked many questions
as to how she came in that dark room,
and who were those who attended iter,
but Dr. Hunt forbade her being question
ed until sho was stronger.
Howiutereslod were all in the little con
valescent whom the elements had cast
into the little seaboard town 1 The ladies
declared that never before did a child
possess such lovely eyes, or such beauti
ful curls; while the gentlemen seemed no
less interested, and brought her gifts of
everything that might please her child
ish fancy.
‘My dear little girl,’ said Dr. Hunt,
when Eva was at length able to ride
out, ‘will you tell me your name?’
‘Eva,’ said tho child, ‘I thought you
knew it.”
‘Yes, I know your name is Eva, but I
want to know the rest of your name—
your father’s name.’
‘Eva Durant, Mr Durant is my papa.’
‘Yes, now I want you to tell mo all
you can remember about your father and
mother.’ Eva’s eyes filled with tears
‘Oh, sir, my mama died and went to live
with the angels. And Ido not know
where father is. He said if I never saw
him again I must know ho had gone to
mama.’
‘Where were you when he told you
this.’
‘On the ship; and oh, the fire burned
me so; and papa held nto in his arms un
til a strange man took me aud tied some
thing under my aims, and throw me into
the water, and I have not seen papa
since. 0, sir, can you tell me whore ho
is?’
‘No, dear child; but perhaps wo may
yet find him.'
And this was all that Eva’s new
friend could discover. It was plain sho
had come from the ship which had been
burned a few weeks before; that she had
been cast upon the sea and had floated
up T.lthe shore; but where was her fath
er? Had he been saved; and was lie
searching for his chiid? Every pos
sible effort was now made to find
him. The circumstances of the case,
with the statement of tho child, were
published fully in the newspapers of the
neighboring cities, but tho grief stricken
father, believing his child to bo lost, had
sailed a week before for Europe, and it
soon became settled in the minds of Eva’s
protectors, that he perished. But the
little one still prattled about her ‘papa,’
and said he would come by-aud-by, and
those who believed differently would not
pain her by contradiction.
Tbe square and compass that had
been found upon her clothiug was regard
ed as a powerful appeal front a Mason to
his broth roil to care for his child. So
it became to pass that Eva became as it
were, tbespccial charge of Hiram Lodge,
No. 93- Mr Turner would have gladly
taken the entire care of tho little waif,
and tho wealthy Senator W re
quested to be allowed to adopt her as his
daughter, but the brethren in tho Lodge
assembled, declared by a vote that Eva
should be reared, educated and protect
ed by the Lodge, and that as providence
had placed her in Brother Turner’s house,
■ that should be her home.
| And so the years went hy, and Eva
i became a healthy, joyous child, flitting
| here and there, and everywhere meeting
the warmest of welcomes. The Masonic
| Hall was lut a few rods from Mr. Tur—
j net’s residence, and Eva often went with
j him as far as the door, and then returned
alone, always bidding the Tiler “take
| good care of Pa Turner and send him
| home earty.”
Chapter 111.
| The six years that followed tho death
of his wife aud the loss of his child,.
[52.00 per Annum
NO. 38
passed wearily to James Durant. Tie
visited nearly every country in the Old
World, socking among scenes of natural
beauty and grandeur as well as historic
interest for the mental rest, that could
never be found. oace more ho turned
his steps toward America and sought
his Masonic friend, Mr. Wadsworth.
Finding that gentleman about sotting
out with his family on a journey to tho
Atlantic coast, Mr. Durant accepted tho
invitation to accompany them to Sara
taga, and Niagara, then to New York,
where, leaving the ladies, Mr. Wadi
worth and Mr. Durant wandered from
town to town along the coas£, enjoying
the beauty of the scenery and the qnial
hospitality that greeted thorn, more than
the crowded hotels and tho fashionable
styles of tho popular watering pliicoa.
Fancy, and tho kind band of Providence,
at length led them in the little town of
I? , and the second evening alter
their arrival they visited the Masonic
Dodge. A warm welcome was extended
to these Brethren from such distant
homes, and both were invited to address
the Dodge. Mr. Durant said:
“Brethren:—l have traveled much
and long. I have found Masonic sym
pathy in every part of the globe, and
everywhere is masonry substantially tho
same. I can hardly toll where I reside.
The world seems to be my home, as I
remain but a slict time in any town or
country, but my name is recorded in an
English Dodge. I love my English
Btethren, for they first brought me ‘from
darkness to light,’ and I love English
soil, for within it sleeps tho wife of my
youih. But I love American soil also,
for here have I found the warmest wel
comes, the kindest of brethren. And
too, my own child is sleeping in Ameri
can waters, even beneath tho very waves
that wash the shores of your beautiful
village.
“Six years have passed since this dear
friend and brother robbed himself of his
life preserver, that my little Eva might
perhaps escape, and wo hoped the ole •
meets might ho kind, and that Heaven
would send her relief; but she was never
heard of more.”
The voice of Mr. Durant was quiver*
ing with emotion, arid unable to speak
further, he seat himself and' covered his
face with his hands.
Glances of surprise and pleasure wero
cast from one to another among tho
brethren of Hiram Dodge. No one spoke,
however, but all eyes turned upon tho
Master, Mr. Turner. For a moment ire
seemed reflecting; then taking a slip of
paper from tho Secretary, ho wrote:
“Mrs. Turner—Do not allow Eva to
retire until I return home; tell her I am
going to bring a strange gentleman who*
wishes to see her.” And calling the Jun.
Deacon, Mr. Turner gave him the note,
saying, in a low voice, “Take this to
Mrs. Turner, immediately.”
“Why, Eva,” said Mrs. Turner when
she bad read tho message, “you are go
ing to have compauy. A gentleman is
at tho lodgo-roorn who wishes to sco
you.”
“Who can it be?”
Eva looked perplexed and thoughtful;
suddenly her cheeks flushed, her eyes
lightened, and clapping her little hands,
sire sprang to her feet and exclaimed:—•
"Oh; it must be papal no one else would
wish to see me; no one in the world;”
and before Mrs. Turner comprehended
tho child’s interpretation, she had passed
the threshold, and was flitting through
the moonlight toward tho lodge-room.
The Tiler looked amazed when Eva burst
into the ante-room, her cheeks burning',
her eyes flashing with joy and excite
ment. “Do not stop mi l I am going
in 1” she exclaimed. But the inner door
was fastened,, aud impatient Eva
cried with vexation.
“Wait a moment,” said tho Tiler, who
having heard nothing of wlrat had trass*
piled within, was at loss to account for
the strange conduct or the child; “wait
a moment and 1 will send your request
to Mr. Turner. Ho will cotno out and
see yon.”
“1 shall not wait; Ido not want to
see Mr. Turner: I want to see my papa.”
“The child is crazy, that is evident,”
said the perplexed Tiler to biinseif; but
calling out one ol the deacons and bade'
him to say that Eva was there and had
determined to get into the lodge-room.
The deacon went to the East, and de-
livered his message in a low tone, and a
moment afterward moved “that tho
craft be called from labor to refresh
ment.”
“Now,” said Mr. Turner, “toll the Til
er to let her come in.”
And Eva did come, or rather bounded
into the hail, more beautiful in her ex
citement than ever before. She advanc
ed to the center of the room and stood
beside the altar; half noised upon ono
tiny foot she scanned rapidly the faces
of all. Her eager eyes soon detected
the strangers, who* were seated beside
each other, and for a moment she seem
ed irresolute; then darting forward with'
a glad cry, she throw her arms about
tiro neck of Mr. Durant, crying, “Oh,-
papa! my dear papal yon have come
homo at lasts You were.not burned in*
tjie ship?”
We wifi not attempt to paint the Beene
further but will leave our readers to im
agine the joy of the fond father, and also'
leave them to decide whether the tears
that wet the checks of the «Brethren of
| Hiram Dodge were caused by sympathy
! with the happiness of their little charge,
jor grief that they should lose one whom’
they all loved.