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(lists, as well as some other religions,
really do believe in endless torment for
the soul after death, hut it is the work of
every well-thinking mind to be employed
in removing such horrible notions
Doubtless, the old English translations of
the Bible had much to do with creating
this horrid, sad, and dreadful notion. But
even the Itoman Catholics have always
discarded it and substituted a temporary
punishment (a purgatory), from which a
liberal payment of mpney will release
the victim. But the whole masses of
4he South are steeped in the grossest
and darkest ignorance and worse than
heathen superstition. The whole religion
of the Southern people may be classed as
one and the same, and that of the worst
possible tendencies. Nor is there much
sign for hope in the future. Better, in
deed, if every house and school-house in
all the Southern States were burncd#to
the ground, and every native-born there
lurever prohibited from teaching or preach
ing, iis you call it. In this event, teachers
from the North would alone give bent to
the rising generation there, and in less
than half a century there would be & re
ligion worth the name.
“Returning to Bishop Simpson, we, who
know him, are of the opinion that his only
fault in dealing with you people South
has been in recognizing any of yon at all
as deserving to be classed as a religious
body. So far from considering a South
ern Methodist and then a Northern Meth
odist as existing in the South, the proper
way would be to disregard all classes there
alike (because all are alike any way at
heart).
“The only difference being the.price
we have to pay for a very poor effort on
the part of some to appear Northern in
sentiment—even Win. G. Brownlow, who,
of late years (since 1861), has professed
to be Northern in religion, yet we who
•knew him best while he ‘stumped theWest
orn States’ in 1862 and ’63, are at no loss
to measure his rdisability
“Now, I have spoken plainly and can
didly, just what all Northern Methodists
fe#l and believe, but very few of them
have the courage to come out and speak
their true sentiments. Likewise the other
minor denominations of the North have
the same opinions of the South. The re
ligion of the North is bound to rule this
continent, and those who stand in the
way (as you all do in the South), must
get out of the way. Religion, to be such,
isjpregressive. It is no longer a dull,
hum-drum, dry reading of the Bible, and
that after a peculiar interpretation of
past centuries. Modern science, and bet
ter enlightenment of the human mind
have discovered new sources of light and
a lar wider field for the application of
Biblical truths, The Bible, like consti
tutions, must be subjected to the test of
experiment, and, if found inapplicable, it
must be so studied as to reveal the mean
ing and interpretations more in harmony
witli man’s progress. We have only re
cently begun to discover the true powers
and application of the Federal Constitu
tion. So, likewise, are we just beginning
to see and comprehend that the Bible is,
in fact, tlie best constitution any State or
nation can have, when applied to every
day life among men in a political body.
We propose to make a proper application
of our Bible to all the Southern State's
and people.
‘‘A subjugated people have no mere
right to apply their only peculiar moral
ideas than they have to use their physical
implements of w.v, Conquered in one
they are conquered in all, and, hence
for ti e present, and some decades to come,
you people ought to be like children, ‘seen
but not heard,’ in all religious matters,
which, as I before said, are really also
political. Respect fully,
S. F. Waldro.”
For the Banner of the South.
WAYSIDE FLOWERS.
BY E3PERAN2A.
There are two pages in the life of Jesus
that claim our especial notice : One of
these is written with blood, the otherwith
glory. A child of ordinary parents and
born in a stable; an artisan who wields
the axe and the plane ; a Jew whom the
people of earth cast aside and despise; a
man accused of sedition, scourged and
scoffed at by the surrounding multi
tude ; a malefactor, spit upon and struck
with blows ; the leader of a small
band of followers, who is denied by
his seemingly best friends; u criminal
condemned to death; a corpse barely
covered with a little clay and oblivion :
That is the entire history of the man ! •
But let us turil over the leaf :
A messenger promised inoro than four
thousand years ago ; a cradle before which
royalty comes to pay its homage ; a life
hill ol miracles; a hand which beckons
to the grave, and forces it to give up its
booty ; feet which walk upon the waves
of ocean; a doctrine which bears upon
it the seal of truth ; an eve which moves
and changes hearts; a voluntary and om
nipotent death ; guards who could no?
watch and hold the lifeless corpse, a
victor who conquers and secures to him
self the whole world ; a faith which has
stood for nineteen hundred years ; a word
which has stood firm and immortal amidst
the wreck of human systems ; a scaffold
before which all the sceptres of earth are
lowered; a life full of virtue and followed
up by an everlasting glory: That is the
history of the God.— Esquires.
The envious man is like unto an owl,
that dreads the light ; he cannot see any
one shine by his virtues without irritation.
Again : he is like a beetle which gathers
poison ev-n from the most beautiful roses ;
since he speaks but of the faults of his
neighbor, without mentioning their good
qualities. Again : he is like unto a fie,
or rasp, which gnaws, tears away, and
carps at everything. Again : he is like
unto a well, which is warm in winter and
eold in summer, lie is glad when others
meet with misfortune, and sorry when
they thrive. He resembles the lightning
which generally strikes but the largest
edifices, while it passes by the smaller
ones ; he hates those whom God has ex
alted. He resembles the quail, for a*
that bird always mourns at sunrise, so he,
too, mourns and sighs when the sun of
good fortune rises for his neighbor. lie
is like a large tree, whieh has young trees
growing up all around it; as such under
growth is always stilled by the wide
spreading limbs and dense foliage of the
larger tree, so the envious man will not
suffer another to equal him, but seeks to
oppress and crush his neighbor whenever
he can. Again : he is like one sick with
the fever, to whom every food seems
bitter ; hence, he seeks to embitter the
pleasures of others. He is like the fly,
which generally troubles us when we are
sick or wounded : thus the envious man
looks but for our evil, never for our good
qualities. lie is like the buckets of a
well ; when one descends the other rises
to the surface. Thus the anxious man
rejoices at the fall of his fellowmau and
grieves at his prosperity.
[A. a Sta. Clara.
Many men are like the phials in an
apothecary’s shop ; they have a beautiful
and high-sounding label on the outside,
but contain nothing except, perhaps, a
spider’s web or so ; again, others are
like a child’s doll—outside man, inside
bran. — Jl>.
Gold is like the sun ; when either of
them does not shine the land is gloomy.
Beauty is like a flower—to-day paraded,
to. morrow faded.— lb.
Who is poor ? You answer me, the
beggar—for he seeks his bread from
door to door. Aye ! but the farmer is
poor also, for he is like a lemon which is
squeezed and pressed until the last drop
of juice has left it. Yes! and widows
and orphans are poor, for they are like a
parlor’stove ; so long as that is warm every
one crowds around it, but no sooner does
the fire within it die out than all turn
their backs to it. So long as a woman
still has her husband to provide bounte
ously for her every want she has friends
in plenty ; but so soon as her husband
closes his eyes in death they all desert
her as the Hies desert an empty kitchen.
[a,.
Friends are plenty ; but they resemble
the 'eel, which generally esetpes our
grasp when we imagine to hold it the
safest
Friends are plenty ; but they resemble
the quicksilver which can never be made
to remain in one place.
Friends are plenty ; but they are like
the swallows which take their departure in
winter.
Friends are plenty ; hut they are like
the sun-dial which renders service only
while the huu is in the horizon ■
Friends are plenty; but they arc like
the leeches which cling to us while they
are hungry.
Friends are plenty ; but they resemble
the mice which infect a house only while
they can find a sustenance there.
Friends are plenty ; but they are like
the melons which appear sound from the
outside but are rotten within.
Friends arc plenty ; but they are like
those brooks whieh disappear during a
dry season, leaving not a drop of water
behind where formerly a gushing stream
noisily found its way over the glistening
pebbles.— lb.
Youth is the festival day of our life,
when.all avenues are full of music and
pleasure, and all houses are hung round
with' golden tapestries, and when cxis
'tence, art, and virtue, like gentle
goddesses, still woo us with caresses;
whereas, in after years, they summon us,
like stern gods, with their inexorable
coin mauds. —llicht er.
■gMSM'S? fll gSffg,
A* the pure, rich juice of the grape
only becomes wine after a long and drain
ing process of fermentation; thus, too, can
the good in our nature only become per
fect after many and hitter sufferings.
BEHIND THE SCENES.
“ Four o’clock and no Ellen yet ? What
can detain her so ? She is usually more
punctual than the clock itself.”
It was scarcely a room in which Laura
Avery was sitting—rather a magnificent
bay window with draperies of embroider
ed lace.
“Poor Ellen,” she murmured, “how
different our lots have been ordered in
this world. Her parents dead—their
wealth irretrievably lost, and she too
proud to accept a cent that she has not
laboriously earned. Oh, dear!” and
Laura sighed again, just as the clock’s
liquid voice chimed the half hour’
“ She doesn’t come,” soliloquized the
puzzled little damsel, “ There’s something
the matter, Perhaps she is sick—oh,
dear, she must be sick. I’ll send James
to inquire—no, Pll go myself”
Before the words were out of her lips,
she was up in her own room adjusting a
soft grey shawl over her black silk dress,
and tying the string of a quite little brown
velvet bonnet, whose own crimson rose
among its trimmings of enameled moss
was not unlike the bloom of her own
cheek.
“ I don’t think it is going to snow,”
she pondered, looking out at the grey,
threatening sky, as she drew on her per
fectly fitting gloves. “At any rate, I
shall walk very fast.”
As she came through the softly carpet
ed vestibule a servant approached her.
“ A note, Miss Laura, it came five
minutes ago.
Ah! The rose was several shades in
the background now, as she broke the
scented seal, and glanced over the deli
cate, cream-colored sheet, with a bright
suppressed smile dimpling the corners of
he r mouth. Yet the note was a very
simple one after all
“ My Dear Miss A very —May I pro
mise myself the pleasure of accompany
ing’ to hear the new opera to-night ?
Unless I receive a message to forbid me,
[ will call for you at half-past seven.—
Your most devoted slave and subject,
Florian Richi.ey.
Laura instinctively slipped the note
into her bosom, as if fearful lest the very
picture on the wall should catch a sight of
the elegant chirography, and pursued her
way down the gloomy' street, with eyes
that saw the murky atmosphere through
the radiant glow of couleur de rose. —
Meantime the gray light of Ootober was
fading away from the dreary room on the
third story' of a house situated on one of
those streets where decent respectability
strives hand to hand with the grim as
sailant, want.
Singularly out of keeping with the
shabby and poverty-stricken aspect of the
apartment, was a newly finished dress of
lustrous purple silk, bright as the dyes of
Tyre, that lay folded on the table beside
the window in such a manner that you
could see the costly trimming—a wide
border of purple.velvet, edged on either
side with a fluting of white point lace.—
For poor Ellen Waynall was nothing more
important than a hard-working and poorly
paid dressmaker.
She lay on the little white bed in the
corner, with her flushed face pressed close
against the pillow, and her slender figure
partially covered by a coarse plaided
scarlet shawl, whilo the involuntary con
traction of her forehead bore witness to
the pain she-was meekly suffering.
As one or two silent tears escaped
from her closed eyelids, and crept softly
down her cheek a light step sounded on
the landing outside, and a knock came
gently to the panels of the door.
“ Come in,” said Ellen, hurriedly dash
ing away the tears. “ Laura, is it pos
sible that this is you, dear!”
“ Yes, it is myself and none other.—
Nell, I could not imagine why you did
not come and fit that dress as you ap
pointed ; but I know the reason now.—
Nelly, you arc sick. Why did you not
send for me?”
tried to smile faintly.
“ I am not very sick, Laura ; at least,
I have not suffered much pain until to
night, mid the doctor says that if I only
had a little wine—no, Laura, do not draw
your purse,” she added, with a slight
perceptible sparkle in her eyes and a
proud quiver on her lips; “ I am not
quite so low yet as to accept charity.—
Don’t look so" hurt and grieved, dearest.
You know how sensitive I cannot help
being on some points. It is only for a
little while. When lam well enough to
take that dress home, and receive the
money for it, I shall then be enabled to
purchase whatever I may require.”
Laura Avery knelt down at her friend's
bedside with soft pleading eyes.
“Dear Ellen, you will not refuse to
accept a temporary loan from me ?”
“ Ellen nhook her head with a grave
smile.
”1 can wait, Laura.”
Laura looked from the dress to Ellen
with a face painted with perplexity.—
Suddenly a bright inspiration seemed to
strike her.
“ Let me take the dress home, Ellen?”
she asked. “ The walk will be just what
I need, and I can stop at Pubour’s on the
way back and order the wine for you.—
You will never be strong unless you
corset vourself up a little. You will let
me. Nell?”
Ellen hesitated a moment.
“ But, Laura—”
“ No huts in the matter, if you please,
Nell,” laughed Laura, gleefully, begin
ning to fold the rich dress into a little
basket that ttood on the table beside it.
“ Where is it to go:”
“ To Mrs Richley’s, in River street.—
Why, Laura, what is the matter?”
“Nothing, only I am folding this dress
wrong,” returned Laura, in a low voice.
It was well that Ellen did not see the
scarlet blush that rose to her friend’s lovely
cheek as she stood with her back to the
bed, smoothing the lustrous breadths of
purple silk. Mrs. Richley’s! Laura was
almost sorry that she had volunteered to
go, but it was too late to retract hes offer
now.
“ M hat a selfish little creature I am,”
she mused. “Poor Nelly needs the money
so very much, and cannot go for it herself,
and it isn’t at all likely that I shall see
Florian. I will go—there is an end of
it ”
“ Thank you, dear Laura, it is so kind
of } T ou,” said Ellen fervently, as Miss
Avery came to the bed-side with the
basket on her arm, and black veil drawn
closely over the brown velvet bonnet.
“ She owes me three dollars for this dress,
and there are seven dollars on the old ac
count that she has never paid me.”
“ Ten dollars ! I’ll collect it, never
fear,” said Laura gaily, as she disappeared,
while to poor Ellen it seemed as if the
sunshine had all died out with the pre
sence of her beautiful friend.
It was nearly dusk when Miss Avery,
summoning up all her resolution, as
cended the brown stone steps of the Rich
ley mansion and rang the bell.
“ Is Mrs. Richley at home ?”
“YV hat’s your business with Mrs.
Richley,” asked the servant, suspiciously
scrutinizing the basket that she carried.
Laura bit her lips. This manner from
servants was an entirely new' experience
to her, yet how often must poor Ellen
have endured it.
“ I have called to bring home a dress
that was finished for her,” she said, in a
tone of quiet dignity.
* o—ah—yes; well, I s’pose you’d
best walk in.”
The servant conducted her up-stairs to
a sort of sitting room or boudoir, where
Mrs. Richley, a portly dame of about fifty,
gorgeously dressed in a crimson silk, was
sitting in her easy chair in front of a glow
ing coal fire. Laura was inwardly grate
ful that the gas had not been lighted,
particularly when she observed that Mr.
Florian Richley was lounging on a velvet
sola in one of the window recesses. Mrs.
Richley looked up as the servant ushered
in the new comer.
“ Well, young woman, what do you
want?”
Laura’s cheek tinged at the tone of
coarse insolence in which she was ad
dressed, but she commanded herself to re
ply meekly:
“ I have brought home your dress,
Mrs. Richley.”
“ Where is Miss Waynall V
“ She is ill ”
“ Very well ; lay down the dress ; it is
all right.”
But Laura stood her ground valiantly.
“ Miss Waynall would like the money
to-night, madame—seven dollars on the
old account and three for this dress.”
“ It is not convenient to-night.”
“ But, Mrs. Richley, Miss Waynall is
ill and needs the money,” persisted Laura.
“ There, Florian,” said Airs. Richley,
petulantly, addressing the young man in
the Turkish dressing-gown, and elabo
rately arranged hair, “I told you just
how it would be.”
“ What the deuce is the matter now ?”
snappishly asked Florian, for the first time
condescending to evince any interest in
what was going on.
“ Why, these impertinent dress-making
people are always clamoring for money,
just when you have drained me of my
last cent.”
“ Let ’em clamor, then, that’s my ad
vice,” said Florian, without taking the
trouble to move his head.
“Just give me back that ten dollar
bill, Florian,” urged his mother. " You
can’t wan't it to-night.”
“ But I do want' it, it happens,” said
Florian coolly.
“You are going to fritter it away in
some of those gambling-houses, to drink
yourself stupid again,” fretted Mrs. Rich
lev. “It’s too bad, getting my money
away from me just to indulge in those
horrible Habits. Why don’t you earn
money for yourself?”
“ 1 Easy, ma, easy,” said the dutiful son,
lazily dragging himself to a sitting pos-
* Don’t lose your temper for it isn’t
worth while. This ten dollar bill is going
to help make my fortune. I shall take
the lovely Laura to the opera tonight.”
Nonsense ; this fine scheme will
flash in tiie pan just like all the rest of
your castles in the air. She won’t have
you.”
“ Oh, yes she will, my incredulous
mamma, wait and see. I shall bring her
to the point pretty soon. Then I’ll pay
you back the money with interest out of
my lady’s bag of shiners.”
“ And will you leave off your gambling
habits ? Oh, Florian, they will be the
ruin of you yet,”
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” returned the
young man insolently. “ That will be
very much as I please.”
Both the mother and her son had en
tirely forgotten the presence of the young
girl who was standing in the dusky
shadows near the door, until this moment,
when Mrg. Richley, turning sharply
around, saw her.
“ What are J ou waiting for,” she ask
ed irritably. “ I have already told you
that it was not convenient to pay the
money to-night—why don’t you go about
your business ?”
Her cheeks were flushed even beneath
their artificial bloom of rouge, and her
chill grey eyes sparkled with rising anger,
as Laura Avery composedly advanced for
ward. She took one of the wax tapers
from the china eh«ll and lighted the gas
with a steady hand, whose flash of rings
filled Mrs. Richley with astonishment.
“ I am sorry that you cannot pay your
just debts, madam,” said Laura, quietly
looking the amazed mother and son in the
face; “ but I am sorry for any occur
rence that has had the effect of opening
my eyes to the true character of Florian
Richley. I will take the ten dollars, sir,
to my sick friend, as you will find it en
tirely unnecessary to go to the expense
of taking Miss Laura Avery to the opera
to-night.”
Florian’s handsome cheek had grown
pale—his knees quivered beneath him as
he mechanically took the bill from his
pocket-book and placed it in the hand of
the imperative beauty, while Mrs. Rich
ley sank back aghast into the cushioned
arm-chair.
Florian made one desperate effort to
retrieve his lost fortune, even in the mo
ment of sore defeat and discomfiture.
“I am very sorry—awkward mistake
—hope ) T ou will afford me an explana
tion,’' he stammered.
“ I require no explanation, sir,” was
Laura’s cold reply, as she withdrew from
the apartment haughtily and unappro aeh
able as a statue of ice.
She hurried homeward through the
twilight streets, with a burning cheek
and beating heart, and it was nearly
dark when once more she entered Miss
Waynall’s room, lighted only by the faint
glow of a low fire.
“Back so soon, Laura?” asked Ellen,
somewhat surprised.
“Here’s the money, Nelly, and the
wine,” she said, thankful that the dim
light could not betray her tell-tale fea
tures “ And now you must get well as
fast as you can.”
“Oh, Laura, I am so much obliged to
you,” said Ellen, earnestly.
Laura stooped to kiss her friend’s pale
cheek, inwardly reflecting how much she
had to thank Ellen’s disposition.
But she never told Ellen of the discove
ry she had unwittingly made, while ful
fulling the gentle mission of friendship,
and no one ever knew the precise manner
in which the contemplated match between
Florian Richley and Laura Avery was
broken oft’.
There are some things that bring their
own reward in this world—and the one
act of kindness had saved Laura from
unconsciously taking the step that would
have precipitated her into a lifetime of
misery.
The Irish Church question has been
settled in Parliament and the Govern
ment defeated by CO majority on a vote of
600 members of the House. Gladstone’s
resolution was then adopted by 56 major
ity.
The Roman garrison has been ordered
home and the evacuation will be com
pleted in a few days.
The early termination of the war be
tween Brazil and Paraguay is anticipa
ted. The Ppraguyans were in their last
stronghold, and it is thought would soon
be forced to surrender.
The difficulties of the English advance
in Abyssinia are increasing,
5