The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907, December 18, 1875, Image 7

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the Captain, Queenie and I —watched him nntil the boat had cleared the intervening space and reached the island. Then we saw him spring out, draw the boat upon the sand, and stooping down, begin to gather the beautiful shells one by one. Then for a moment I had forgotten to watch him—my eyes were fixed upon Queenie, with whom I was engaged in conversation, when a quick, sudden exclamation of the Captain caused us to glance up quickly. Following the direction of liis gaze, I saw his cause of alarm. Harry, in his eagerness to gather the shells, had forgotten the Captain's caution. The tide was coming in rapidly, a stiff, sudden breeze having arisen. The water was steadily creeping upon the island. Already the boat, unnoticed by Harry, had drifted out to sea. We tried to shout to him, to warn him of his danger, but in vain, so great was the distance. I knew that my brother was by no means a skillful swimmer, yet perhaps, if warned in time and divested of part of his clothing, he might reach the land in safety. But now a new cause of alarm presented itself. That little cloud had meant mischief more mis chief, perhaps, than even the Captain anticipa ted. Suddenly, with scarcely a moment’s warn ing, the storm in all its fury burst upon us. The sand upon the beach flew in thick clouds of dust, blinding our eyes. The water leaped and dashed as if possessed of a thousand demons. Huge, foam-crested breakers came dashing and roaring toward us, striking upon the beach at our feet, causing us to retreat in alarm. With the bursting of the storm, Harry had been aroused to his danger. By this time the island was entirely covered with water, and now we saw Harry struggling for life amid the angry breakers. Few better swimmers than my brother could have breasted the mad waves safely, and with a thrill of horror I recognized how feeble and almost unavailing W’ere his efforts, and how slow the progress he was making toward the shore. With a wild cry for help, I had just started to run in the direction of the fisherman’s hut, when a piercing scream of agony smote upon my ear, ami I turned just in time to see Queenie dash past me and leap into the water. “Harry! Harry!” she cried, the sweet, ago nized voice ringing out clear and distinct over the waste of waters. Even then I could note the deathless devotion the deep and mighty love with which it was freighted a love which “many waters could not quench nor the floods drown.” “Queenie! Queenie, don’t!” the Captain cried in anguish, as he stretched out his arms as if to detain her. “Come back, my lass, come back !” His face w'as pitiful to see as he knelt there upon the strand, the tears streaming down his cheeks, the weak, afflicted arms stretched out imploringly as if to drag the beauteous form back from out the angry, foaming waves—his husky voice falling heedlessly upon the ears of the girl whose hearing was dead alike to all else, whose heart was forgetful of everything else ex cept the mighty, deathless love which filled it— a love which -was making superhuman efforts, straining every nerve to reach the object of its devotion. She was a magnificent swimmer the Captain’s praiso had not been undeserved. She had almost reached the spot—was within a dozen yards of where Harry still struggled manfully amid the breakers, when I saw him throw out his arms suddenly and then sink from view. Exhausted with his struggles, he had fainted from fatigue. With a wild scream, I sprang forward and did what I ought to have done long ago, only I had stopped to watch Queenie with a strange kind of fascination,—I ran toward the fishermen’s huts, crying for help. But already the alarm had been raised. A boat with two occupants shot out from the shore and sped rapidly out of the waters; and in the fore part, pale and determined, with every nerve bent to his oars, sat Burton Delorme. It seemed as if a boat could scarcely live in those seething, angry waves, yet through it all Delorme kept steadily on his course. I saw Harry as he rose from the waves—saw Queenie stretch forth her hand and grasp him by the clothing, and then turn to fight her way, with her burden, back to shore. The girl struggled heroically, but it was plainly evident that her frail strength must soon give way; yet nearer, coming ever nearer, was the boat, with its pale, determined occupants dashing on to the rescue. A wild cheer broke from the crowd upon the beach as the spot was reached and Delorme’s strong arm drew the half- fainting girl and her unconscious burden within the boat. Then a blinding mist came before my eyes—just for a few moments I think I must have lost consciousness. When I came to my self, the boat had reached the shore. Burton Delorme, his face still pale and set, was the first to spring out, then turned to assist Queenie. Every vestige of color had fled from her face; the girl was as white as death; her eyes had a dim, vacant expression as she tried to grasp De lorme’s outstretched hand; a deathly faintness seemed upon her; she staggered forward with uncertain step, reeled as if she had received a sudden blow, and before Delorme could stretch out his arm to prevent her, fell fainting upon the sands at his feet. He raised her tenderly. As he did so, her sleeve, which was long and loose, became unfastened at the wrist, and tailing back, displayed a round and beautifully moulded arm; but strangest of all, there, just above the elbow, and distinctly visible, was a small, blood red mark in the shape of a heart. Delorme’s eyes rested upon it. “My God !” he cried, staggering backward as if some one had struck him a heavy blow. “Tell me quickly!” he cried, turning almost fiercely upon the Captain, who stood pale and trembling at his side, "is she your child?” “No!” The Captain rather gasped out this monosylla ble than spoke it. “Tell me again,” Delorme said, laying his white, nervous hand upon the Captain’s shoul der; “ where did you get her?” The Captain’s face was as deadly in its pallor as that of the man beside him as he said; “I saved her from the wreck of a drowning vessel more than thirteen years ago.” “And that vessel ?” Delorme asked, in a husky voice, coming nearer and looking at the Captain with eyes that were terrible in their unnatural brightness. “The Queen of the Sea.” "I thought so! My God, I thank thee !” De lorme murmured, as he turned and rained kisses upon the brow and lips of the unconscious girl within his arms, hot tears falling thick and fast itpon the beautiful, pale face all the while. “My long-lost child—my darling — my little Wini fred !” Kind hands had raised Harry from the boat also, and in a little while had restored him to consciousness. But not so Queenie. Her faint ing fit was of a far more serious nature. The in tense mental excitement, the great physical ex- j ertion had been too much for the girl’s delicate j organization. For days she lay at the point of death; but, through tenderest care and unceas ing devotion, she came back to life again. There was not the least doubt as to her iden tity. The cloth-s she had worn when the Cap tain had saved her from the wreck, the little locket which he had found clasped about her neck, all wre identified by Delorme. The poor old Captain and his wife were wild with grief at j the loss of their darling, but Delorme promised to bring her often to see them, and with this their fond and loving hearts were forced to be content. The return to consciousness must have been doublv sweet to Queenie—the awakening to a father’s tender love and cherishing care, but . above all, the awakening to the knowledge of a for which her he,..; .1 hitherto longed; hopelessly*, but which was all her own at last. For in those days when Queenie had lain almost at “death’s door,” when it seemed as if the young life must go out forever, I had told Harry the story of her love and devotion. Perhaps it was wrong - perhaps I ought not to have heen so hasty, but I did not think so; for during her ill ness, I had seen that in Harry’s eyes which con vinced me that it needed only this from me to open his eyes to the true state of his heart. Nor was I mistaken. At last, Queenie’s pure and un selfish love had met with its due appreciation and reward—she was beloved in return. The mad, wild passion he had felt for Miriam Hayes was but a restless, fleeting infatuation; his love for Queenie was the one pure and strong devo tion of his manhood. And all this he told Queenie as sitting beside her the first afternoon we had carried her out on the piazza and left them a moment together — her little, wasted hand clasped tenderly in his strong cool palm as he told her how much he loved her and asked her to be his wife. That Queenie was happy it needed no words from her to tell me, as going out upon the piazza I found them still together. The beautiful light that glowed in her eyes and the faint rich color that had swept up into her cheeks showed that plainly enough. “Oh, Ruthie!” she cried, “I want to tell you “Hush, darling,” I said, as I stooped and kissed her. “You need not tell me; I know it already, my dear, dear little sister!” “And my r own sweet mother !” she said, as she pressed my hand to her lips; and then by the twinkle in her eye, I knew that Harry had told her all. Delorme was pleased with the betrothal, but he would not hear to a speedy marriage. “She is entirely too young,”he said to Harry’. “ You must wait. She must travel—go abroad. Let three years provp your constancy.” And with this they were forced to content themselves. What need I tell you more? In all the broad land you will not find a happier home than ours. Happiness has been mine continually - blessings have crowned my lot ever since the day I became Burton Delorme's wife. Harry and Queenie are with us. The three years of waiting had but proven constant the two loving, devoted hearts, now bv the alchemy of love transformed into one. She is the light of our household, the idol of our fond and loving hearts, the object of our tenderest solicitude, and daily we pray God’s kindest care, his choicest blessings for our bright and beautiful darling, our own loved Queenie. TEMPERANCE. OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE I. O. G. T. [For The Sunny South.] ONLY A MAN. BY HOPE DE VERE. Only a man, shivering with cold,— Looking so feeble, broken and old— Asking for alms With trembling palm; Once he was noble and bold; Only a man, forsaken—just think— Asking a penny to buy him a drink! Only a man, broken in heart,— Hardly a man, but a battered part,— In the mud lying, Groaning, half-dying. Ah! see him start,— Hear him mutter, “God! has it come That I’ve lost my soul for the sake of rum?” Only a man! Can none pity him now, While the white snow falls on his upturned brow ? Only a man With ice-cold hand; Only a man fallen low,— A man fallen low—rum was the cause,— Drunkard, a moment I pray you to pause. An Instance in which Hahnemann’s Principle, Allopathically Applied, would not Work. Mrs. Sniffles lias had more trouble with Lycur- i gus, aud has been strengthened in the belief j that he is totally unlike other men, in fact, tee- ! totally unlike many of them. He had been on a ; long sober stretch up to a couple of weeks ago. About that time he learned that his only aunt, a rich old lady in St. Louis, had died and left him an immense fortune—to get. if he could. This was a sore disappointment to our friend, for he had expected to be made a rich man by the death I of this (once respected) relative. Never was the j news of an aunt’s death read with more poignant | grief by surviving kin. A postscript to the letter : conveying the sad intelligence stated that the j good old soul had bequeathed her entire wealth | to a benevolent institution. This was the rusty | rod of iron that pierced his soul and made murky the fountain of hope. He tore the letter to pieces, and bent his faltering steps toward the j nearest saloon. He drunk; he fell. EDUCATIONAL. Forty drinks [For Tbe Suuuy South.] EPIZOOTIC NOTES. BY KITTY SOUTH. “Why, how is it, Silvy,” said I to my cook this morning, “that you sent in neither hominy nor buckwheat cakes for breakfast?” “Lor, Miss Kitty, ma’am, it’s all owin’ to this ’zooty the bosses’ got. Peter, you know, what fotches the artikles, bin here to say how their boss can’t take another step; and so, I reckon, yer order what I took to that grocer man he’s boldin’ in his two hands yit.” Of course, the sable Silvy thus successfully parried the blasting words of condemnation which were all ready to be hurled for the neglect of a positive order. I go into the study, thinking to comfort my self for the disappointment in my breakfast by basking in the light and warmth of the cheery wood and pine fire, which country-luxury papa has ever held in high esteem, and which is one of the distinctive attractions of his sanctum sanc torum. Pity my despair, when in place of ejaculating, “ The crackling fagot flies,” which I had prom ised myself to do upon entering the room, the words, “Ah me! miserable !” alone could express my wretchedness at beholding neither fire nor preliminaries thereto. I rang the bell with be coming fury, and experienced an inspired ac quisition of withering words wherewith to de molish the delinquent servant when she appears upon the scene, and taking in at a glance the outraged state of my feelings, she enunciated quickly: “Yes’m, I knows you ’spected fire in here in the Doctor’s study, and I ’spected to have it my self, till Mr. Dent’s man cum and say how his whole team is got that ’zooty, an’ he can’t tell, if his life 'pended on it, when he can haul agin.” For the second time I become powerless to re dress my wrongs. I migrate into the sitting-room, which is ordi narily the cheerful part of the house. Here I find papa, looking quite like a fish out of water; he misses his study, its books, periodicals, pa pers and general atmosphere; and I was struck by the ominous clouds resting upon Lilly’s face and her words just uttered as I opened the door: “ Oh, it’s too bad—too bad !” “What, Lil,” I said, “is too bad?” “ This abominable epizootic,” she replied. “But how, dearie?” I rejoined. “Is it affect ing you? No symptoms of the malady, I hope?” This was hard for the already vexed damsel to bear, at least with respect to her elder sister, and she makes no effort at all in that direction, but replies with pardonable sauciness: “I seriously fear from the weakness of that re mark that you yourself must be quite ill of the epidemic—a fatal case, I should say!” and her great black eyes flash with indignant sarcasm. I at once make the amende honorable, and learn that the trouble is this: The concert to-night is to be quite a recherche affair, and Withelm Le Fabre, so lately back from Heidleberg, who dis tinguishes people just now by his attentions, was to be her escort. The state of the weather for bids all passengers on foot, and Wilhelm had called to say no horse can be procured for love or money. So, of course, Miss Lilly must be victimized. I was seated in my own little rocking-chair, before the glowing anthracite, trying to become philosophical over these various epizootic trials of the day, and had almost reached the state of “ A calm and thankful heart, From every murmur free,” when a rap at the hack door drew me out of this commendable frame of mind. Sallie, the child of our laundress, was in waiting. “Mar say, ma’am, the week’s wash ain’t tetched yit, and you all can’t git the clothes till next i week, ’cause the man what owes her the wood ! say his boss most dead with the ’zooty, an’ mar ! say as how she can’t git a stick o’ wood to bile ! the clothes, nor to i'on ’em neither.” “Very well, Sallie,”! hopelessly and helplessly Why Do They Ever Begin! “Mama,” said my little Harry, looking out of the window as a drunken man went reeling by, “ why do men stagger through the streets ?” “Because they are drunk,” I said. “ But, mama, why do they pot stop drinking?” “Because they cannot, or think they cannot.” “Well, then, mama,” said Harry, lifting his little earnest face to mine, “why do they ever begin ?” It was a very busy morning, and my work was not half done. But I knew what I ought to do just thon; so I sat down, took Harry on my knee, and we talked it all over. I tried to show him, as well as I could, how, little by little, the result came about. Only the day before a neighbor, at whose house we were calling, wanted to treat us to cider that was “only a trifle sharp—just enough to be good.” I said “no” for myself, and, finding Harry was taking the glass, said “no” for him also; and Harry had thought it very hard, and pleaded that he might have “just a little.” “But, mama,” said Harry, “that little drink of cider wouldn’t have made me drunk.” “But it might have led, little by little, to a liking for such things; and if we cannot do without cider, with a little alcohol in it, w r hen it is handed to us, how shall we do when the wine is offered? Where shall be the stopping point? A little cider, a little wine, a little rum; a great deal of cider, a great deal of wine, a j become so fond, he said, in tones that would [Those stars represent drinks, j to the star.] Mrs. Sniffles was in despair. She had thought I his reformation was complete, and now “the old ! man was drunk again, ” with no signs of ever j letting up. Finally she bethought her of the sys- I tern in vogue at certain inebriate asylums—that i of mixing liquor with every article of food until j the patient acquires a lasting distaste for alcohol, j She determined to try that plan on Lycurgus. ! She procured a gallon of the worst whisky to he had, and put some of it in the old man’s coffee to begin with. It has been his unvarying cus tom to drink but one cup at a meal. That night he passed his cup back to be re-filled, saying, as he smacked his lips: “Better coffee ’n usual, ole gal. ” Next morning she increased the dose. He drank three cups, and fell from his chair as he was reaching for a fourth. He slept until noon and went out to dinner. There was beef soup and whisky —half and half. Sniffles ate it all, and said, as he wiped his mouth: “You’re git’n to be a better cook’n anybody, m’ dear. But yer didn’ make soup ’null'. ” At supper everything was saturated with whis ky, and Sniffles ate until he became helpless, and his wife had to drag him to bed. The gallon of whisky was soon gone, and the only change that Mrs. Sniffles noticed in her hus band was that while it lasted he came to his meals with greater regularity than usual. She was not a woman to give up anything with out a fair trial. She got another gallon, and came near starving herself to death while she fed it to Sniffles in everything that he ate and drank. His appetite increased at a fearful rate, and he complimented her every day on her newly- acquired skill in cooking. The second gallon soon went the way of the first, and after two or three meals had passed without the seasoning of which Sniffles had great deal of rum. We cannot know. It may be all down, down, down to the wretched, wretched state we saw just now.” “Oh!” said Harry, with a little shudder, “I wouldn’t for anything grow to be like that man; and, if that is the way the thing begins, don’t let me have any more cider, mama; keep it all away .’’—Scottish Temperance Leatjue Journal. Buxton on Intemperance. Mr. Burt recently said in England: “I think that some of the most terrible things that I have read against intoxicating drinks have been writ ten by Mr. Buxton, the eminent brewer. He, about twenty years ago, wrote a pamphlet, and in that pamphlet he said that if we add together all the evils generated in our tim.e by war, pes tilence and famine—the three great scourges of mankind —they would fall far short of those that arise from this one of intemperance. He not only said that it was the greatest positive evil, but he said—and we all know as social reformers that this is perfectly true—that of all the obsta cles that clog the progress of good, this is the greatest that stands in the way. He said that the struggle of the school, the library and the church all united against the traffic in drink, is one de velopment of the war between heaven and hell. Well, now, what is the remedy for this evil state of things? Some people say, ‘Education;’ some say, ‘Give people better homes;’ some say, ‘Pro vide healthy and pure substitutes for the public houses.’ Well, we say we agree with that, so far as it goes, hut what is the great enemy of educa- cation? Look at the children whose education is neglected, and you will find that, almost inva riably they are the children of drunken parents. What tends more to make home miserable for working people than the traffic in drink? Mr. Buxton again says: -It will not be any exaggera tion to say that half a million of homes are ren dered miserable, year after year, by excess in in toxicating drinks, ’ so that we entirely agree with all these remedies that may be suggested, but we still say that, after all has been done, if the traffic in drink is to be continued in the present shape, it will stand in the way of social reforms of every kind; and the only cure for the evil is have touched the heart of a tax-collector, “Mar- ander. dear, the victuals don’t taste as good as they used to. Seems to be somethin’ or nurther missing.” Is there any wonder that the poor woman gave it up in despair?—Brunswick (Me.) News. The Curse of Drink. The appetite for strong drink in man has spoiled the life of more women—ruined more hopes for them, scattered more fortunes for them, brought them to more sorrow, shame and hardship than any other evil that lives. The country numbers tens—nay, hundreds of thousands—of women who are widows to-day, and sit in hopeless weeds, because their husbands have been slain by strong drink. There are hundreds of thousands of homes scattered over the land, in which women live lives of torture, going through all the chan ges of suffering that lie between the extremes of fear and despair, because those whom they love, love wine better than the women they have sworn to love. There are women by thousands who dread to hear the step that once thrilled them with pleasure, because that step has learned to reel under the influence of the seductive poison. There are women groaning with pain while we write these words, from bruises and brutalities inflicted by husbands made mad by drink. There can be no exaggeration in any statement in regard to this matter, because no human’s imag ination can create anything worse than the truth. The sorrows and horrors of a wife with a drunken husband, or a mother with a drunken son, are as near the realization of hell as can be reached in this world at least. The shame, the indigna tion, the sorrow, and the sense of disgrace for herself and children, the poverty, and not un- frequently the beggary—the fear and the fact of violence, the lingering, life-long struggle and despair of countless women, with drunken hus bands, are enough to make all women curse wine, and engage unitedly to oppose it everywhere as the worst enemy of their sex. The Seven Lamps of Teaching. 1. There is the Lamp of Knowledge. The teacher should have a thorough knowledge of that in which he undertakes to give instruction. He should be a positive character, competent to do his own thinking in lependently, and not a tame enclitic in the syntax of society. He should scorn to be in bondage to a text-book. 2. There is the Lamp of Law and Order. There must be fidelity in the observance of all necessary regulations. Nor is it to be forgotten that in a school, as in a State, “ that govern ment is the best which governs the least” A teacher whose heart is in his work, will make his own life an inspiring example of loyalty to law. 3. There is the Law of Patience. The duties of the teacher ought never to be discharged in a hurried, careless, or petulant manner. He should feel that he presides over vital processes, that call for the utmost watchfulness and pa tience. A. There is the Lamp of History. This throws its light backward, and reveals sources of strength and comfort and guiding inspiration in the lives of great, good teachers gone before; in the kindly, searching severity of Socrates, to whom the hearts of his pupils were like the leaves of an open book; in the fair humanities of the poet Avchias, with a Cicero by his side to twine his brow with grateful laurels; in the vast learning of John Milton, whose outward blind ness only sharpened and purified his inner vis ion; in the moral and intellectual nobleness of Thomas Arnold, who was a great schoolmaster because he was a great man, whose pupils loved him with all the joy of like-minded brothers, chastened by the reverence of obedient chil dren. 5. There is the Lamp of Prophecy. This throws its light forward, and helps the teacher to forecast a good career for his pupils. It helps him to shape the future success and char acter of the man. When John Trebonius, one of Martin Luther's teachers, was rebuked for treating his pupils with such marked courtesy, his reply told of an honest pride in his work, and faith in its good results: “ When I lift my cap to my boys, I give my salutation to those who will one day be men of power.” 6. There is the Lamp of Enthusiasm. One has no business to be a teacher unless his heart is in his work, so that he will do it lovingly, and with his best faculties fully enlisted. If a teacher goes to his work as a criminal would go to the pillory; if his daily routine of duty is a weary tread-mill, and never ennobled by flashes of hearty enthusiasm; if there is always a feel ing of distance and dislike between himself and his pupils; if in moments of confidence when they would come near to him, and speak to him of their griefs and pleasures and plans, an in visible wall of ice suddenly repels them; if he is so irritated and exasperated by outbursts of innocent frolic that he has a bull-dog’s chronic hunger for fight, it is safe to say that his proper place would be in a regular army with a rifle on his shoulder. 7. Finally, there is the blessed Lamp of Christ’s Example to guide the meek in judgment, to illuminate what is dark in the ways of Provi dence. No failure need be feared for the well- trained, well-furnished and patient intellect, that looks for help to the Supreme Teacher; that lovingly and prayerfully leads the way to that highest wisdom, whose beginning is the fear of the (Lord, whose paths are pleasantness and peace, whose end is life eternal.—Edward North, in National ( Ohio) Teacher. The Drunkard’s Path. One fine summer evening as the sun was personal abstinence on the one hand, and the | drooping into the west, a man was seen tryin suppression of the traffic in drink on the other.” Temperance Items. The Good Templars of London recently cele brated their seventh anniversary in that city. Rhode Island has 28 subordinate lodges, with a membership of 1,448, and $900 in the treasury, j In the jurisdiction of Ontario, Canada, 11 new j lodges were formed during October, and 189 ! during the past year. Maine has 175 subordinate lodges, with 13,463 | members in good standing. The largest, No. 81 j of Yinal Haven, contained 330, and there are one j thousand dollars in the treasury. Prof. M. H. B. Burkett, at one time General j Superintendent U. O. T. R. of Tennessee, and j a State Deputy of the Grand Lodge 1. O. G. T., died at his home near Cleveland, Tenn., Nov. i 12 th. j A New York boy, only 16 years of age, has been put under guardianship on the verdict of a jury, that he is incapable of taking care of his property, lately left him, on account of drunken ness. The fact is, a person who is a slave to rum is as incapable of managing his own or other people's property as a child that don’t know his own name. The Missouri penitentiary contains 1,270 pris oners, and they are coming in at the rate of 100 per year. The penitentiary is already crowded; and a great many of the convicts are idle because Homes, which are the nurseries of children who grow up into men and women, will be good reply, and go back to my chair, feeling that I am i there is not room to put them to work. By the or bad according to the power that governs a much wronged woman, and wofully cowed, or ! time the “crooked whisky ” trials are over, the ! them. Where the spirit of ‘ horsed—which is it? i Missourians will be compelled to build an addi- ’ ” ’ ’ ’ to make his way through the lanes and cross roads which led to his village home. I say “ trying, ” because although he knew the way perfect!}', and had traveled it, man and boy, for the past thirty years, yet that night he was con fused and bewildered. Do you ask “by what? ” His flushed face and unsteady gait told the sad tale—Drink. Utterly puzzled, he called out with an oath to a passer by, “I’ve lost my way; where am I going ? ” “To hell?” was the answer, sadly and quietly given. A savage glare instantly sparkled in the drunk ard’s eyes; but after a moment or two, with a groan, he murmered, “I think I am. ” “Come with me, ” said the other, kindly; “I’ll take you home. ” The next day came; the fumes of the liquor had passed away; but the two words by which his friend had answered were striving in his heart. The arrow of conviction, launched by the Spirit's power, had struck home. “ To hell! Y’es 'tis true; I’m going straight to hell, and I know it. O, God, save me. ” That man faced about; he was going straight to hell, as he said. But he truly repented of his sin, sought pardon and peace through Christ, and set himself on the way towards life. Nine Good Rules. 1. Make the school-room duties pleasant; con duct them with animation and cheerfulness. 2. Take an interest in them, and treat every thing connected with the school with dignified importance. 3. The class exercises should not be kept up longer than interest is maintained. 4. Idleness should be sedulously avoided. A programme of recitations and studies, furnish ing uninterrupted employment during each ses sion, is indispensable to a well-regulated school. 5. Great care should be given to assigning lessons; if too long, they discourage the learner, if too short, they encourage idleness. 6. Emulation is a valuable aid if judiciously employed, and may be used in a great variety of ways. 7. Patient, persistent effort will accomplish your object, remembering always that education is a process of growth, and time an essential el ement. 8. Cheerfulness and confidence are lights that blaze, giving a glow of animation and activity, while a fretful spirit begets uneasiness and im patience in others. 9. Frequent threats of punishment and habits of fault-finding are seldom attended with good results.—Quebec Journal of Education. Public Schools. Public schools should be maintained in every State, county and district throughout the land. A good system of education fosters virtue, truth, enterprise, thrift, and promotes national pros perity. On the other hand, ignorance tends to laziness, poverty, vice, crime and national weak ness. The State, for its own protection and progress, should see that public schools are established in which at least the rudiments of an education may be acquired by every boy and girl. Individuals, societies, and churches are al lowed the largest liberty and assured of the most sacred protection of the laws. Special schools for special cases are often provided; for example, Normal Schools for training teachers; High Schools for advanced instruction, etc. Universities and colleges are essential to the welfare of the land, and are everywhere protected and encouraged by favorable laws and charters. Home Influence. I realize, in this constant frustration of our es- 1 ti° n to their prison, or send those fellows to the j penitentiaries of the neighboring States. Rev. Dr. Chickering recently said, in an ad dress before the Oread Institute, Worcester, Mas- | sachusetts, that of the two thousand convicts to whom he had preached the two preceding Sab- | baths, in the State prisons at Jackson, Michigan, \ and Auburn, New York, at least fifteen hundred | were estimated by the officers to have come to that position, directly or indirectly, through ! strong drink. How patient we tax-payers are !— i The Watchword. ... j Whisky straight has ruined thousands, but the I “crooked” article is what is now playing the mischief in various localities. tablished domestic arrangements, and these de privations of pleasure to the young folk, that ••Now is the winter of discontent;” but I have spirit enough yet left to cry with the royal Rich ard: “A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse !”—that is (pray understand me clearly on this point) a horse innocent of all epizootic ten dency. A young man who had spent a little of his time and a good deal of his father's money in fitting himself for the bar, was asked after his examination how he got on. “Oh, well,” said he, “I answered one question right.” “Ah, in deed !” said the old man, with a look cf satisfac tion; “ and what was that?” “They asked me what a qui tarn action was.” “That was a hard one. And you answered it correctly, did you?” “Yes; I told them I did not know.” Abstinence removes one great stumbling-block to the reception into the heart of the gospel of Jesns Christ. love and duty per- vrdes the home—where head and heart bear rule wisely there—where the daily life is honest and virtuous—where the government is sensible, kind, loving,—then may we expect from such a home an issue of healthy, useful and happy be ings, capable, as they gain the requisite strength, of following the footsteps of their parents, of walking uprightly, governing themselves wisely, and contributing to the welfare of those about them. On the other hand, if surrounded by ig norance, coarseness and selfishness, they will unconsciously assume the same character, and grow up to adult years rude, uncultivated, and all the more dangerous to society if placed amid the manifold temptations of what is called civ ilized life. “ Give your child to be educated by a slave,” said an ancient Greek, “and, instead of one slave, you will have two.” What to Teach.—Rev. Chas. Brooks, father of the State Normal Schools in America, was asked by a teacher this question: “What shall I teach my pupils?” He answered: “Teach them very thoroughly these five things: “1. To live religiously. “ 2. To think comprehensively. “3. To reckon mathematically. “4. To converse fluently; and “5. To write grammatically. “If you successfully teach them these five things, you will nobly have done your duty to your pupils, to their parents, to your country, and to yourself.” Major C. D. Melton, of Columbia, S. C., died on the fourth instant. He was Professor of Law in the University of South Carolina, and Allied the position with ability and perfect sat isfaction. He was an eminent lawyer and scholar, had filled several prominent places in Sonth Car olina, and his death is a cause of much sorrow to the people of Columbia. A new definition for an old maid is: A woman who has been made a long time. A newspaper and Bible in every house, and a good school in every district, are the principal supporters of virtue, morality and civil liberty. —Franklin. What is the first part of politics ? Education. The second? Education. And the third ? Ed ucation. —Mich elet. How long should education last