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[For The Sunny South.] Ij 1 X K S . BY CATHARINE A. WARFIELD. “If'hat's in n name? 9 *—Shakhpearf.. The* “Sunny South ”—the “Sunny South!” What memories arise, Called up by those suggestive words, Like pictures to my eyes! I see again the garden bowers (Oh! can they ever fade, Though long since trampled into dust?) Where as a child I played;— I hear the mighty river rush Past that ancestral bom** That lifted ’mid magnolia trees Its white and crystal dome.”' And the yellow jasmine of the woods. The lily of the lea. With a thousand other lovely blooms. Like dreams, come back to me! The “Sunny South "—the “Sunny South!” Its life-stream tills my veins. And I have loved my country well, Though alien from her plains. When the 9torm of battle lowered low. My prayers, my songs were poured For that dear laud—(I could uo more, But I gave my son—his sword!) Though blood has bathed her vales and shores Where surged the vandal tide, And the “despot’s heel” is on her neck, He cannot tame her pride! For God’s own smile rests on her face From fount to river’s mouth, And dries the tears upon her cheek— Our own, our “Sunny South.” * Near the town of Natchez. [Written for The Sunny South.] THE RING ACCURSED. BY Rl’TH FAIRFAX. PART FIFTH. CHAPTER II. Paul Le Roy did not sleep late, nor indeed had he rested well. He was worried by the loss of Mrs. Kendrick's Ifracelet; not so much on ac count of its value, but because it had been in trusted to him for safe delivery to Mrs. Ken drick, as a Christmas gift from her brother. He had also undertaken to deliver a package of pa pers to Mr. Kendrick; the loss of these would occasion great inconvenience and expense. “Well!” he exclaimed aloud, springing from the bed, “I suppose I will have to advertise and offer a tremendous reward; that may bring it.” He then proceeded to dress himself in moody silence, when suddenly a sweet, ringing laugh echoed through the hall. His brow cleared—he smiled. At twenty-three trouble, unless it be very sore, does not lie heavily upon the heart. He hastened the completion of his toilet, and opening the door, found his attendant of the night before waiting for him. “Well, John,” he said, with a pleasant smile, “your light supper has not taken away my ap petite for a good breakfast. I hope the cook makes as good coffee as you do.” “You’ll find it all right, sir,” answered the waiter. “The ladies are all at the table.” “You must not let me sleep so late again, John: it won't do to keep the ladies waiting.” “As if they’d wait!” muttered John to him self, throwing open the dining-room door. Mr. Kendrick welcomed him boisterously. Airs. Kendrick gracefully' extended her hand, and named her niece to him. Miss Warner smiled graciously as she looked up, then, as if moved by some sudden impulse, placed her hand in iiis. The half-hour spent at the table was delightful, for Miss Warner could be very charming when she chose, and this morning she pleased to be so. Paul Le Roy was capti vated by her grace and beauty, and as he walked beside her to the drawing-room, he felt that he would willingly sacrifice all he had to win from her one loving smile. We dare not say r she had won his heart, for hearts are won not by good looks but by good qualities and sweet sympathy. The fancy is often captivated by a pair of bright eyes or a lovely form, and we call it love ! Love? It is a profanation of the holy word ! While Paul listened to the artless, (?) childish prattle of Miss Warner, he heard Mr. Kendrick repeat his name in tones of surprise, and a mo ment after, a servant entered, bearing his shawl and traveling bag! “Stop the person who brought them !” he ex claimed as soon as he saw the articles. “The old gentleman is gone, sir,” answered the servant, placing a tiny note in Le Roy’s hand. “You seem surprised, Dr. Le Roy,” remarked Beatrice. “ You will not wonder that I am surprised,” he answered, “ when I tell you that I lost this satchel, which contains articles of value, on the ferry-boat last night, and it is now returned to me!” “But you have not examined it,” said Miss Warner. “Doubtless the valuables are gone.” “I had not thought of such a possibility,” said Dr. Le Roy: “but now that I do think of it I do not admit it. I believe that I will find every thing as I left it.” “What makes you think so?” asked Beatrice, curiously. “ I will tell you,” answered Paul, a slight flush staining his white brow. “I lent this shawl to a stranger last night, and as it has been returned to me with the satchel, it is evident that my bag by some means fell into his hands. He was a gentleman, and therefore I believe its contents are untouched.” “Verily your faith is strong,” exclaimed Beat rice, with a smile. “Now. it is my opinion that the • gentleman ’ was the thief, and your satchel is not worth much. But read your note; if I could think my presence a fetter upon your lib erty. I would certainly leave you. You are at home now, you know, and I will have no formal ity. You are one of us.” She looked up into his face with an air of charming simplicity that completed the con quest of his heart—nay, I should have said fancy. He glanced hastily over the note, then putting it in his pocket, opened the satchel. “Come, now. Miss Warner,” he exclaimed playfully, “I will make a wager with you—a pair of gloves against that hot-house flower in your hair. What say you?” “Agreed!” She extended her hand with the innocent grace of a child; and as it lay. dimpled, soft and rosy in his palm, Paul involuntarily clasped his fingers over it. For a moment she let it rest there—not longer. "Now decide!” she said laughingly. "Look !" said Paul, taking the jewel-case from the bag and opening it. “Was not this a tempta tion to a poor man ?” “Oh! it is lovely! Is this a gift to a prom ised bride ?” she asked archly. “I have no promised bride!” exclaimed Le Roy, more eagerly than was at all necessary. “Read the inscription. It is Airs. Kendrick’s bracelet. ” While Beatrice clasped the bracelet on her arm and admired its beauty. Paul continued his examination. At last he looked up. “You have won the wager. Aliss Warner.” “Ah!” she cried, laughing merrily: “what e von lost?" “A photograph.” “Of whom?” “Of myself:” and again he flushed. Beatrice could have laughed heartily at this, but she was too wise to do so. though not too kind. She answered gently: “I do not blame the thief. But have you lost nothing else. Dr. Le Roy ?” “Nothing else,” replied Paul: “and by the way, Aliss Warner, I have not lost that wager. You said the valuables were gone: they are all here: I have lost nothing but an old, valueless photograph. Give me my flower.” “Pardon me—I have won the wager,”said Be atrice. “I do not consider the picture value less. ” A look of delight flashed over the face of Paul. “AVe cannot agree upon this point,” he said. “Suppose we exchange; you shall have the gloves—give me the flower. ” She glanced up into his eyes, in silence loos ened the flower from her hair and placed it in his hand: then with a startled look, as if fright ened at her own innocent thoughtlessness, has tily fled from the room. “ What a very child !” exclaimed Paul, smiling to himself; “and indeed she must be quite young—not more than seventeen, and an or phan. Poor child!” - She was twenty-two. Presently he drew the note he had received a few minutes before from his pocket, and ran over the words it contained. “Dk. Le Rot,—AVe were so fortunate last night as to rescue your satchel from the hands of a boy who had evidently stolen it. AA r e pre sumed to open it, hoping to find the owner’s name, and were not disappointed. AVe are de lighted to be able to restore it to you unharmed. I will ever remember you with deepest gratitude. Lora. ” “Lora!” repeated Paul. “AVhat a strange yet pretty name. ‘Deepest gratitude.’ How keenly she feels that little kindness ! AA’hat a strange feeling thrilled my heart when she placed her hand in mine! I wish I knew who they were; I might be able to assist her father, poor old gentleman !” He was interrupted in his meditations by the entrance of Air. Kendrick and his wife. Air. Kendrick had been surprised at the return of the satchel, but his amazement knew no bounds when he saw its valuable contents. Paul related the incident of the shawl. “And yon have lost nothing positively noth in J ?” asked Mr. Kendrick, for the third time. Paul had said nothing twice, but now he re plied: 4 4 Only an old photograph of myself—a worn and shabby scrap not worth three cents. ” *! Oh ! how romantic !” exclaimed Airs. Ken drick, clasping her pretty hands. “Tell me, Paul, was the young girl pretty ?” “I cannot say,” answered Paul: “herface was covered by a thick vail. She may not have been young either, but she seemed so.” “Oh ! she should have been young and lovely, and you should have fallen in love with her to make the romance complete. AA’as it not odd for her to to take the picture? Now. Paul, I like you very well indeed, but I should never have neglected this beautiful bracelet and taken your picture.” Paul smiled uneasily, and could have thanked Mr. Kendrick when he put his wife aside and said: 44 Let us talk a little business, Paul.” “Business!” cried Airs. Kendrick, covering her little ears. “Ah ! you have driven me away !” and she left them alone, to their evident satisfac tion. 44 Now, if yon want to talk seriously, let us go where I can light my cigar,” said Paul: and Air. Kendrick led the way across the hall to his library. Paul lit his cigar, threw himself into an easy chair and prepared to listen. “Now, my boy,” commenced Air. Kendrick, 44 1 hope the arrangements I have made will meet with your approval. For the present you are to make my house your home. I have selected an office for you, as you requested, and had it fur nished. You will find your book-cases empty*— it would not have done for me to fill them. The office is on the first floor of a fine house only a few doors from here, and you may rent or pur chase the house if you will. Now if you think of getting married——” “Oh! no, no!” exclaimed Paul; “unless, in deed ” “■Unless! A’ery good—very good, indeed!” laughed Air. Kendrick. “And now I will tell you what else I have done. I have invited three of our most prominent physicians to meet you at dinner to-morrow. They are old friends of mine—you must try to make them yours also.” “Sir, you are very kind!” exclaimed Paul, throwing aside his indolent air and grasping Air. Kendrick’s hand. “I trust that I may never prove unworthy of your goodness. I propose to bring my mother to Philadelphia as soon as I I am settled and have a fair prospect of success before me. AA’e have sold our place near Rich mond, but mother retains possession of it until the first of April. I hope to have a home ready for her by that time.” “But why not bring her at once?” exclaimed Air. Kendrick, heartily; “we have plenty of room. Send for her. ” “Thank you,” said Paul; “but I think mother wishes to remain in A'irginia a little longer. I would like to visit the office if you can go with me now.” “Certainly,” answered Air. Kendrick; “it is only eleven o’clock—plenty of time.” In a few minutes they stood before an elegant house, upon the door of which a large, finely- engraved silver plate bore the inscription,—Dr. Paul C. Le Roy. “That is very beautiful!” said Paul, admir ingly. "Yes; I think so. Come in.” Air. Kendrick took a key from his pocket and opened the door. The wide hall was covered with a costly oil-cloth, down the centre of which a strip of velvet carpeting lay like a garland of roses upon the autumn brown of faded leaves. A neat chandelier, evidently quite new, was sus pended from the ceiling. AA'ith an air of satis faction, Air. Kendrick threw open the door of the front room. It was furnished as a drawing room in the most elegant manner; evidently no expense had been spared. The floor was covered with a velvet carpet of shaded crimson and brown. The low, easy chairs and luxurious , sofas were upholstered with rich, golden-brown satin. The curtains of expensive lace were cov ered with draperies of the same satin of a lighter shade. There was a long mirror between the windows. There were pictures on the wall and a clock and vases on the marble mantel. "AA'liy. this is superb ! You don’t call this a doctor’s' office, do you ?” exclaimed Paul, in as tonishment. "AA’liy, certainly I do—and a very handsome one. too. Ah ! you dont know this place as well as I do. You have an office in an aristocratic neighborhood; your patients will be among the upper class, and you must have everything as elegant as possible. You can afford it. can’t you ? If not, my purse " “Oh ! I can afford it!’’interrupted Paul. “It is true the probable expense startled me a little at first: but I am satisfied that you know best, and am grateful for the trouble you have taken. ” ••Oh fit is nothing.” answered Air. Kendrick, opening another door. “See, here is your pri vate consulting room.” This, too. was handsomely furnished, but not with such extravagant luxury. ••Now." continued Air. Kendrick, “here is a small room where you will keep all your bottles And knives, with kindred horrors. Let us cross the hall: I have one more room to show yon, and that will complete the number of your apartments.” “I hope so, indeed,” said Paul to himself. “Four handsome rooms, richly furnished. This is by no means the modest manner in which I expected to commence business.” “This,” said Air. Kendrick, “is your private room. How do you like it?” “It suits me so well that I am sure a woman must have directed its arrangement.” “A woman ! AA’hat woman, pray?” asked Air. Kendrick, laughing. ‘•Airs. Kendrick, or, perhaps, Aliss AA’amer,” with a little flush. “ Airs. Kendrick ! Aliss AA’arner !” cried Air. Kendrick, laughing boisterously. “I doubt if either of them would take the trouble to direct a room of their own. Oh! my boy, I see you don’t know the peculiarities of fashionable ladies. AYhen they want a room newly-furnished they give an order to an upholsterer, and that is the end of it. No, Paul, the arrangement of this room has been a labor of love, but no wom an's hand was concerned in it. I selected all these things myself: the carpet, the couch— everything. You will find that couch not out of place some time when you are weary after a hard day’s work.” “You expect me, then, to have a large prac tice,” said Paul, smiling. “Certainly I do ! AA’hv shouldn’t you? You are young, energetic, good-looking, with a kind, gentle—oh ! you are laughing at me, are you? AA’ell, you will find that to be good-looking and gentle, will carry you a long ways in your pro fession. I have succeeded in pleasing you— that is well. I am going back home. ’Will you ■ come ?” “Not now: I wish to make a few purchases.” “Dinner at three, Paul;” and they shook hands again—a true Southern habit. But what would you have ?—they were both Southerners. Paul Le Roy locked his door, and turning into Twelfth street, walked slowly to Chestnut. Here he made a few purchases, then went into a fash ionable restaurant, where he procured a cup of coffee, and after this amused himself walking the busy streets. Suddenly remembering his engagement, and knowing that Air. Kendrick was the very soul of punctuality, he turned his steps homeward; ran up to his room with the light-hearted activity of a boy, and had barely time to prepare himself for dinner when the tinkle of a silver bell rang in his ear. Dui’ing the dinner-hour, Paul’s eyes were oftener on the face of Beatrice than on his plate, and when she made a motion to rise, was instantly at her side. Air. and Airs. Kendrick glanced at each other as the young couple left the room—it was clearly a case of “love (fancy) at first sight,” and they would have been blind indeed had they not noted his admiration: but while a smile rippled over the pretty face of Airs. Kendrick, a troubled frown contracted her husband’s brow. “That would be an excellent match,” she said. “I am no match-maker,” growled Air. Ken drick, rather unamiably. “But don’t you think it would be?” persisted his wife. “For her, yes; for him—I am not so sure about that.” “You forget that you are speaking about my niece,” said Airs. Kendrick, with a little pout. “Pardon me, Lizzie; but you know Beatrice is no favorite of mine, and you fashionable women are enough to break a man’s heart.” “Yours seems to have stood the trial,” said Airs. Kendrick, with a little flush. “Oh! /know how to manage,” said Air. Ken drick, shrewdly; “and beside that, Paul’s feel ings are not like mine. I am afraid that he is going to fall in love with that girl’s beauty. ” “Going to!” echoed Airs. Kendrick, with a merry laugh; “why, he has done it already.” “And I suppose she will flirt and coquet as usual, and then open her blue eyes in perfect amazement when he tells her that he loves her,” said Air. Kendrick, savagely. “I don't know about that,” said Airs. Ken drick. “ Isn’t he wealthy ?” “ I believe so. AA’hat has that got to do with it ?” “AA T hy, it has everything to do with it,” said the fair lady, emphatically. “How much has he?” “ Oh ! I don’t know. Shall I ask him?” “About three hundred thousand?” “I don't know, I tell you,” repeated Air. Ken drick, rising impatiently; “but he is worth far more than any paltry three hundred thousand dollars !” How was that shallow-hearted woman to know that her husband was speaking of the real value of Paul himself—of the brave, pure heart that was indeed above value? Her next question proved that she had taken his words literally: “AA’hy then does he practice?” “For the love of it,” said her husband, grumly. “AA’ell, I don’t think Beatrice can do any bet ter,” mused Airs. Kendrick; and slowly rising, she went, not to the drawing-room, as usual, but to her own room. “Beatrice needs no assistance from me,” she said to herself; “she is fully com petent to fight her own battles.” AATien Dr. Le Roy led Aliss AVarner to the drawing-room, he dispatched a servant to his room for the small package he had purchased in the morning. “Ah!” said Beatrice, smiling; “my gloves?” “Yes, I think I guessed your number; six and a quarter.” “Y’ou are right; and my favorite color—did you guess that, too?” she asked, in a soft, sweet voice. “Look !” he replied, taking the package from the hand of the servant, removing the paper, and disclosing a rich, satin ease containing a dozen pair of pale, pearl-colored kid-gloves. “Oh! Dr. Le Roy, you were to give me one pair; I cannot take these!” exclaimed Beatrice. He drew back, a flush of wounded feeling crossed his face. “I thought I was to be ‘one of you’—to feel at home !” he said, in a low tone. In an instant she was at his side, and drawing the glove-case from his hand, looked up with a soft, beseeching smile as she said: “I will keep them ! Thank you.” Yon may think it was rather rude for Paul to kiss the soft hand that touched his so gently, for he had known her but a short time, yet he did not mean it to be so, nor was Beatrice offended, for she smiled upon him again. “You will go with me to the theatre?” he asked, timidly, after an hour’s conversation. “AA’ith pleasure.” she replied; “and now as we are to spend the evening together, you will excuse me, will you not? I think auntie is waiting for me up-stairs.” She laid her hand on his arm, and looked up with eyes innocent as a dove’s. That was her charm. She could not attract by the brilliancy of her mental gifts; she could not win by the true, unselfish warmth of a loving heart, so she captivated by her child-like grace. If Paul Le Roy had been an older man, or one more worldly- wise. he might have discovered that it was not an expression of innocence that he saw in those bright, blue eyes, but merely beautiful shape and color without any expression at all. Again he gently touched his lips to her hand, and as she left him, fell into a bewildered dream of delight. Airs. Kendrick had gone to her niece's room, and was waiting for her impatiently. “AA’ell,” she said, as Beatrice entered. “ AA ell. what auntie?" asked Beatrice, laughing. “Nonsense. Beatrice! Y’ou know very well what I mean ! AA’hat did he say ?” exclaimed Airs. Kendrick, impatiently. “Heavens, aunt! you surely did not expect him to say anything particular, did you ?” said Beatrice, throwing herself lazily upon a couch. “Don’t be saucy! AA’hat have you there?” “I gave Dr. Le Roy a flower for a pair of gloves,” replied Beatrice, indifferently, “and this case is what he calls a pair of gloves. AA’e called it a wager at first." “Betting!” said Mrs. Kendrick, curling her lips. “Oh ! dear, no, auntie: only exchanging gifts,” replied Aliss AA'amer, meaningly. Airs. Kendrick opened the ease, and she, too, reckoned the value of Paul’s gift. “Fifty dollars at the least. AA’ell. he wont miss it." “Is he wealthy?” asked Beatrice, in a low, eager whisper. “He is worth over three hundred thousand dollars; Air. Kendrick told me so,” answered Airs. Kendrick, in the same low tone. The eyes of the two women met—they under stood each other. “ He will do !” breathed the aunt. “You will help me?” whispered Beatrice. “I don’t think you need much help.” “Ah ! you know that I have no money, and to go about with him I must have costly dresses. Look at his clothes ! He must not know that I am poor,” she added, bitterly. “No! he must not,” assented Airs. Kendrick, emphatically; “ it would never, never do !” “I will help you,” said Airs. Kendrick, after musing a few moments. “I will do all I possi bly can. You know that I have not an unlim ited command of money, but you shall wear all my dresses, and I won’t wear them. I am de termined to help you in this business. I sup pose you won’t be able to manage it before fall ?” questioned the aunt, after another pause. “Certainly not,” responded Beatrice, impa tiently. “He is as sensitive as he can be, and I will have to be very careful, but I think I know how to manage him. Three hundred thousand dollars ! AA’ell, it is worth working for. I will be obliged to return to New York in April, if not before, and I mean to wear a ring on this finger before I go, if possible. ” “Y’ou can do it,” said Airs, Kendrick, approv ingly.’ “Have you any engagement for this evening ?” “Yes; I am going to the theatre with him.” “So? AA’ell, you shall have my pearl-colored silk that came home yesterday, and wear a pair of his gloves. Don’t forget the little attentions, Beatrice; it is such things that captivate men like him.” And so, while Paul mused over the fire, won dering by what vast sacrifice he could make this child-like beauty his own, the cruel woman was spreading a net for his unwary feet. (TO BE CONTINUED.) [For The Sunny South.] The Influence of Abstract Beliefs. BY J. N. Alankind, as they stand to-day, may be divided into five sects or sets of believers:—First, those who believe in the Divine origin of the Bible and the Christian religion; second, tho;-.e who believe in the Divine Origin of the Old Testa ment and reject the New Testament; third, those who reject both the Old and the New Testament, but believe in a Supreme Being; fourth, the athe ists, who believe all men are a smart and cunning species of animals, and nothing more; fifth, the atomists, or believers in a doctrine which sprung into existence some two thousand two hundred years ago, under the leadership of a man named Democritus, but who are called, in our day, “natural selection and evolutionists,” or Dar winians. Now, let us take up these sets of believers, one by one, in retrograde order, and note what influence each has had, and is likely to have, on human society and civilization; and—- First, the “natural selection and evolution ists,” whose doctrine I understand to be this: Away back some two or three hundred millions of years, atoms of matter happened by chance to come together in such a way as to form an animal, one will say, of the masculine gender. Then, again, some other atoms happened by chance, to come together, and formed another animal, of the feminine gender. And next, by chance, the two animals came together and com menced to procreate; and from these, by natural selection and evolution, sprung all the animals— the birds, the fishes, and creeping things, inclu ding man and woman. And right here the ex pounders, as I understand the theory, were a little puzzled to account for the passions, the appetites, the sentiments and prejudices of men, as well as the thinking faculties in general, and which, as I also understand, has been left to the present generation of philosophers to solve; and no doubt they will soon be on hand with the facts and figures as plain and conclusive as those which demonstrated the earth riding on the back of a big turtle. As to the bearing, then, of this doctrine upon human society, it seems to amount to this: the strongest or most lucky will always occupy the most happy position, or the top of the crowd, be what or who they may. If, then, this natural selection and evolution happens to fall to the lot of the tiger, the elephant, or the rhinoceros, to be the master, it is all right, and no one else has any reason to complain. So much for the influence of this belief. Next, the atheist. He considers himself and everybody else as mere animals. He does not worry himself as to where all or any come from, or where all or any are going. All he knows or cares to know is, that he finds himself an animal requiring something to eat, something to wear, and something to shelter him from the weather; and consequently he has no aspirations as to the past, the future, or as to political or social rela tions of men, except so far as these may assist him in getting food, clothing, shelter, and the means of gratifying his animal passions. This, then, is the length and the breadth, the height and the depth of an atheist, as a political econ- mlst or a social being. Next comes the Deist, or one who simply be lieves in an over-ruling power, either material or spiritual, but rejects the Bible in toto. Nor does .he know or care whether his God rules by visible or invisible means. All he believes or cares to believe is, that the world and the universe could not have been made and set in motion without a maker; he, therefore, believes in an author of all things, whom he is willing to call God. His belief, then, rises one step higher than that of the atheist or the atomist, because he believes that each and evev intelligent creature, and each and every community of human beings, is in some way, either here or hereafter, responsible to a higher power. But he does not claim that his belief ever has or ever can possess any great influence over the political or social relations of society, for he knows that the lowest savages en tertain a like belief with himself; nor does he claim that such a belief affords any sanction to or foundation for moral principles and precepts for private life. He is, therefore, as a political and social economist, like a ship at sea without chart, compass, or quadrant; he knows which is north, which is south, and which is east and west, but is still at a loss as to which course to steer to reach a port of safety. His influence is negative. AA’e next come to the man or men who believe in one true God, and the Old Testanflent as the word of truth, regulating all other authority. These believers rise a step higher than any of the foregoing, in their political and social influ ences. They believe in the sanctity and binding efficacy of an oath and the value of moral truths and precepts, and are able to show, from the records of history, that under the influence of such a belief, high civilization has been main tained and nationalities have been held intact through many centuries, and that man’s pas sions, appetites and ambition have been held in check and caused to labor for the benefit of all. Y’et those of this exclusive belief are obliged to acknowledge that it never has possessed the power of expansion, or the power to extend its precepts beyond the civil power wherein it was professed. Hence, as a principle of political and social relations, it has been found a slight degree stronger and far-reaching than the same or simi lar beliefs among pagan and idolatrous nations. Lastly, we come back to the belief in the truth of the whole Bible, and especially in Christ—his works, his words and his doctrines. And here let us premise, that the influence upon society of an abstract belief is to be estimated by its moral soundness and its tendency to promote justice and equity among men. There are some beliefs, very attractive and fascinating, which operate to the reverse of this rule: there are oth ers which beam with truth, virtue and peace from every stand-point, like a well-designed and well-executed statue of some great and good man. The ancient Greeks believed in a number of licentious and ambitious gods, and this belief made infidels of their great thinkers, and tinallv worked ruin to all. Nevertheless, the Greeks believed in many virtuous and noble heroes, and their fine attainments and brilliant achievements unquestionably grew out of the influence of these, rather than from the influence of their gods. The Israelites divided their beliefs be tween the heathen gods and the true God as por trayed by Abraham and Aloses: and it is now universally confessed that all their virtues, their attainments and their splendid achievements spruhg from the teachings of Abraham and Aloses, while their reverses and misfortunes were due to beliefs in strange gods and unsound doctrines. The Chinese appear to date their rise and progress in civilization from their belief in the teachings and doctrines of Confucius, which, judging from what remains of them, were thor oughly impregnated with truth, virtue and just ice. The Greeks became at last to believe in Alex ander, famous only for military achievements, and this belief soon wrought their utter ruin. The Romans, from being virtuous republicans, came to believe in the Caesars, noted chiefly for success in war. which soon accomplished their destruction. The English believed in the civic virtues ot Allred the Great, and from that time forward they have increased in political power and greatness. The people of the United States believe in the moral and political virtues of AVashington, and thus far this belief has done much to guide them in the paths of true pro gress. “Alan”—or rather we may say society— “shall not live by bread alone, but by every word which proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” A word or two now as to the foundation of Christian belief. This belief is founded on the advent of Christ, or the words, the works and the doctrines of this obscure Nazarene, who came upon the earth in the midst of the most completely organized and established religious hierarchy that the world ever contained, and at the same time the most intolerant and bigoted that could be conceived. Nor was this all. He came in the midst and under the sway of the most despotic and powerful government that had ever existed, containing many religious- sects, all of which were utterly hostile to the doc trines of the poor Nazarene, because his teach ings declared war upon them all. And here, too, let it be mentioned, the doctrines of this Nazarene were all delivered in the colloquial style—gushing forth on all occasions with the freshness and pathos peculiar to youthful ardor, and one might almost say with the apparent in discretion peculiar to the young and inexperi enced. Accompanying his precepts were the most withering rebukes and reproofs that lan guage can convey, upon the sectaries and rulers of the people. This obscure Nazarene seems to have been engaged in his mission only three years, and during that time in traveling from place to place on foot, and before he was thirty years old was cut off by death upon the cross—■ then the most ignominious death inflicted under the Roman government. Yet, notwithstanding all this and the persecutions that followed his believers, in less time than has elapsed since the discovery of the American Continent by Colum bus, this belief had driven out every other reli gious belief and every opposing moral principle under the Roman Empire, and had installed itself in the graces of the Roman government and the confidence of the whole world. AA’e are sometimes told that crimes, wars and commotions are as common under the Christian as other beliefs. This, evidently, is not true. A mission of love, peace and good-will to all men cannot be the cause of crime or war, although many engage in both, despite the most potent influences to the contrary. The question before us is as to the influence of this belief upon the political and social relations of society where it is held, and not as to whether it can cure all the evils of men. Nearly all other religious beliefs have gone down and gone out of existence when the political organizations with which they were allied have fallen. Not so with the Christian belief. AA’hen the Roman Empire went down amid the crash of states and nations, and when paganism began again to raise its baleful shade over society, Christianity stood firm and formed for many centuries the only bonds and the only moral light which men and society could find. It stood independent of nations, states and poten tates; and the singular fact, that the Church of Rome, though corrupt it may have been, was able to use this belief as the sole band of broth erhood among men for centuries, is astonishing proof of its own strength and truthfulness. It still passes from nation to nation, and from coun try to country, with undiminished lustre and power. In the opinion of some, it suffered an eclipse under the rule of Alahomet. But this is a mistake. There is hardly a thought or an idea in the Alohammedan teachings not found in the Old or the New Testament, or hardly a precept therein found not recognized and practiced by that sect. The Old and New Testament are sacredly regarded by all learned Alahometans, and their zeal in the defense of their Divine origin is hardly less ardent than that of the Christians. The entire object of this article is to show the comparative influence of the abstract beliefs of the times upon the moral, social, political and material interests of society. I have tried to indicate that of Darwinism, Atheism, Deism and Judaism, and now leave the Christian belief to be applied as each may elect. I say nothing about the chief mission of the wonderful and glorious author. A Hindoo Clock.—A strange clock is said to have once belonged to a Hindoo prince. In front of the clock’s disk was a gong swung upon poles, and near it was a pile of artificial human limbs. The pile was made up of the same number of parts necessary to constitute twelve perfect bod ies; but all lay heaped together in apparent con fusion. AA’hen the hands of the clock indicated the hour of one, out from the pile crawled just the number of parts needed to form the frame of one man, part coming to part with quick click: and when completed, the figure sprang up, seized a mallet, and walking up to the gong, strnck one blow. This done, he returned to the ! pile and fell to pieces again. AA’hen two o’clock i came, two men arose and did likewise; and at the hour of noon and midnight the entire heap sprang up, and, marching to the gong, struck one after the other his blow—making twelve in all; then returning, fell to pieces as before. w/V