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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