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> T‘ k T^fT^ S r TMNtV T
9
A Dream.
... Cn n n V SOH^ •!
For T ! ° I-. hnpn reading v/hat Jesus said
one night 1 fo n 0 wers whom he had led,
To the iw-avv and saddened at heart,
Who now "* . t. ,,r/Miiri snnn denartt
pecan
• , i ' Jacter would soon depart:
Because tlu ii - ( his precious words,
I’.l been rf 1 the Bible affords,.
The g |,il !" , .Lfioee those words contain:
This is the » ■ n come again,”
-I, if f leav ! ": it h the thoughts of the wonder.
And. absorbed
^ met.
best that day,
•To-tuei’i' « picnared to receive .”
Their 'h'‘t'' ( . lu 1 in .| 1 :i watch was set,
And in ew i> j ]a b( . by his people
That the uoo ; re robe( ] in their best *..«.» -
All the !>i t i.j'eat made a grand display.
And the lit"; h volvet cushioned pews,
And Chun”?. u , for the Lord to use.
Were opt “j, beiN f ro m their brazen throats,
And1 1 ,,'' tlu> clang of their wildest notes.
Sent f,,ltn 1 i irpandest tones rose high,
And lhe 'w‘(.;c-t anthems to the sky,
IW-arn^tt J"' tuin .hes people went,
As >n t0 ' . iM lowest reverence bent,
in terians rose to pray,
rri D «/the'l.'iril wi 1Mirst unto us appear.
Who have followed him through the water
Tlie'K'piscopalians. as they read
r -ir beautiful prayers, would raise the heads,
JKnK m hear the Master’s tread.
Vi, le the Romish priest, in las deepest tone.
, --This is the church of the Master’s own;
uvirc his slicc|>—and we alone.
•' | 1( ,i,l the keys to the pearly gates,
Mi.l wc guard the Lord’s mundane estates.”
uvu they waited thus, these churches,'all,
' m he earlv morn till the twilight’s fall—
Waited and watched for the Master’s call.
\ml a- they waited and watched and prayed,
They said -He will come with grand parade,
I n his royal robes and with crown of gold,
\nd covered with glories manifold.”
into one church there walked that day
\ withered old man with locks of gray,
So poor, and in tattered garments clad,
Tottering with age and of visage sad.
Into another, with trembling feet,
\n outcast walked from the city’s street;
To another, from the poor-lions • came,
\ worn out. wearied, tottering dame;
To still another, a little child,
Kag' r ed and soiled—and much defiled;
But to none of these was a hand stretched forth;
They were but cumberers of the earth.
To none of these did a churchman say,
>-Be seated! the Master comes to-day;
Enter my pew, wait here and see
The Savior who died for you and me.”
Not even a welcoming smile or word
By any of these was seen or heard.
Biit some with haughtiest looks of pride,
Their costly garments pulled aside,
best a touch from the lowly ones should smirch
These pillars of the Christian church.
So forth from the churches of Christian name
Sadly tliey went—as sadly they came;
lint on each church, in letters of fire.
There glowed, as daylight began to expire,
The words, which never could be forgot :
“1 came. 1 came, ye received me not!
I came to you in the poor and distressed;
1 came to you—outcast, oppressed;
lint ye knew me not; ye watched in vain.
Will you know me when I come again?”
H. A. Beach.
HYPNOTISM.
Wonderful Facts in Soul Study.
In the December number of that
great magazine of progress, the Arena,
Stinson Jarvis has a luminous article
from which we take the following fas
cinating extract:
In June, 1891,1 was rather anxious
about a friend who, at that time, was
living in one of the most remote of the
l nited States. The distance was, I
think, betw en two and three thou
sand miles. But distance makes no
ilirtereime for these experiments. _
was sitting talking to a clever woman
one evening, and, as the conversation
swung around to some point that sug
gested the idea, I asked her if she
would tell me how my friend was. I
explained, and she consented readily.
I did not think she would prove a sat
isfactory patient, because she possessed
so much personal force and individu
ality; hut she contributed, by her own
will, towards submission. It was the
first and only time 1 ever mesmerized
her, and the results were astonishing—
even to me.
It took her a long time after passing
into the sleep, t > find the friend; and
then the same certainty, as before de
scribed, reigned. S£he seemed to first
approach the house over the town, be
cause the locality struck her as being
an unpleasant place to live in, and she
described it. Then her account of
what she saw was like this :
“She is sitting at a table writing a
letter. It’s to you, I think. Wait!—
yes!—it’s to you! I can see over her
shoulder. It is addressed to you. She
has her back to me. I am at the win
dow. Such a wind blowing through
the room! Oh, my, such a wind! It
fs blowing her dress and making the
light almost go out. Xow she hears
her sister coming in. Oh, what a
bright, clever face that sister has! So
bright and full of fun. She is telling
ft joke—wait!” Here the patient
stopped and laughed quite heartily,
^be had never seen the sister, but de
scribed her most accurately. At the
time no recollection of tne sister was
" *th me, and in any case my mind was
merely receptive. I simply sat and
listened—not having to ask any ques
tions, lor the patient’s usual eloquence
ftnd curiosity were with her as much
fts ever, and she missed nothing, ap
parently.
* Oh, i do like that sister!” she con
tinued. “Very tall, isn’t she? Not
pretty— a t j^ast not very 7 so—but a
good, humorous face—so clever!
?p' th *y are both laughing together.”
anri tt pati «tt described it all fully 7 ,
aehn i l 1 S re w weary and said her head
» iffd. Other patients have al-o spoken
of their “heads growing tired,” when
the trance is prolonged. I always woke
them and ended the trial when they
said this. I did not know what this
headache might mean, and I wished to
be on the safe side. I was working, at
these times in a trackless region—
feeling confident of myself and of the
patients as long as they did everything
happily; but when their pleasure in
witnessing the strange scenes began
to end, I always woke them up. I told
this patient to remember all she saw,
because unless this is done they forget
when they awake what they have seen.
She was in the deepest of sleeps, and
as I did not hurry her waking, it
took her sometime to do so. At first
she had no remembrance of what she
had seen; but gradually I suggested
parts of her vision to her, and then she
recalled the whole of it distinctly
This experiment is not put forward
because it contains proof, because it
does not. It is mentioned in this place
because it leads up in some ways to
the final and conclusive proofs. The
reader will understand th»t, beyond
writing one letter in this case ask
ing questions to verify, 1 really
cared very little for verification,
because at that time I knew
from the proved experiments and from
the demeanor of the patient that she
could be making no mistake. When a
patient is not to be Relied on, her own
doubt,, as shown in her answers, will
be apparent. But when she is in the
deepest sleep, and finds the person
searched for, there is an intense vivid
ness and lucidity about all she de
scribes which I think could leave no
doubt in the mind of any observer.
I have thrown the explanations of
methods used and appearances pro
duced, etc., into previous experiments,
so as to leave the conclusive proofs
short and unsurrounded by the verbi
age which may distract attention from
the ma'n point. I give only two of
these. They were very simple, but
they left me without any desire for
further proof.
Tt may be that both the experiments
I now relate were on the same day. I
remember that they were both on the
afternoon of Sunday, which day was
usually chosen because I was at leisure.
preferred the daytime for these ex
periments. In the first of them I asked
a patient as to what a certain friend
of mine was doing who lived with an
other friend. These two usually took
a walk on Sunday afternoon, and I ex
pected to have them both described as
passing along some country road. But
the patient said, when she found him :
“He is reclining on a so'a, smoking
a pipe, in a room, and talking to .”
I knew by her accurate mention of
all the furniture that she was describ
ing their private sitting-room. These
two men were great friends, and the
patient was evidently amused at the
expression of their faces, or what they
said.
As in other cases, the conversation
was not repeated fully, though evi
dently heard. On such occasions the
amusement of the patients indicated
this: though in their desire to tell
things in their own way, they did not
usually repeat: the phrases which for
the momeii- provoked a smile. At such
times the patients did not realize the
importance of repeating the words
heard. It was exactly the same as if
they looked through the window and
did not think the talk worth repeating.
A silence sometimes ensued while the
patients listened. The reader may
imagine how strange it seemed to me
to watch the patients, in all such cases
as thi*, listening to conversations that
were being held, sometimes two miles,
sometimes several thousand miles
away.
On the evening of the same day I
called on one of these men, and found
that they had not taken their walk,
but hnd remained in the sitting-room
as mentioned. They had also worn the
coats described. Their positions in
the room were al*o as depicted—one of
my friends in an armchair, and the
other reclining on the sofa, smoking a
pipe. The interior of the apartment
had never been seen by the patient.
The single experiment which I shall
now give is as conclusive as if I gave
many. They could be easily multiplied
so as to produce weariness. On that
day I had dined with my parents. At
dinner, after church, I heard my father
say that a certain banker would call
for him at three o’clock to take a walk;
so that, later in the afternoon, perhaps
about four o’clock, I felt sure that he
would be described in the experiment
as walking with this banker along some
street or country road. However, this
was not so. When the patient found
him there was no doubt in her tone
“He is sitting in a large armohair,
asleep. The chair is a reddish one.”
“Can you see anything more to
describe ?” ’ ...
“No, nothing”, except that there is a
newspaper lying across his knee.
This seemed to be all there was to
ask so I inquired about my mother.
When she wa* found the pat*ent said :
“She is standing at a long window
which reaches almost to the floor. Out
ride there is a veranda and trees
g r wing. She is looking through the
trees ^ •
“And of what is she thinking ?”
It took some time to force an answer
to this, for the patient ’•sserted that
she could not tell. But finally she is
sued the answer with haste:
“She is thinking of Harry.”
Now, Harry was a young ur cle of
mine whom the patient had never seen.
Very likely I had mentioned him be
fore, but beyond that she knew nothing
of him. He had died within two
months of that, time, and ti e mention
of his name almost startled me, for he
had been a lifelong friend. I ceased
the experiment, and inquired as soon
as possible of my mother.
I discovered that Mr. Y , the
banker, had not called, and that my
father had slept all the afternoon in a
large crimson armchair, which was
his favorite. In answer to my further
question, my mother said :
“Yes, he was reading a newspaper as
he fell asleep, and I remember that it
rested on his knee during the time he
slept.”
She also remembered standing, a* out
the time mentioned, at one of the front
French windows (in which case she
would be facing trees) and thinking
over the lawsuit which at that time
was causing trouble in reference to her
brother’s will.
It was no slight matter with me to
find that I had proved beyond the
possibility of doubt the existence of a
soul.
Since about that time there have
been no more experiments—except the
one in New York in 1891. I have not
since thought of any methods wh ch
could be more conclusive or more en
tirely scientific. There could be none.
Perhaps I cannot expect that all
strangers will believe. If any are in
credulous it is to their lo«s. To all
such I say, “Go and do as I have done,
and ihen disbelief will he impo-sible.”
Nature has, happily, given no man a
monopoly. Every one who possesses
earnestness of purpose and self-con
trol can prove these thing* for himself,
with a suitable patient. Yet I am
far from suggesting that every one
should try. There are times when fright
or lo s of self-control in the actuator
might (as I imagine) have disastrous
results on the patient, whose soul,
whose whole existence is delivered
into his keeping. This is the opinion
of the French school, and it is proba
bly correct. Unless a man be confident
in his own interior calm, even in the
presence of shock and surprise, I think
he should not try. Still futber am I
from suggesting that any should con
sent to be patients, unless the intui
tions tell them that the actuator will
prove sufficient and be honorable. It
must be remembered that the patient
when tinder full qpntrol, has no will
but that of the ac; uator.
The next question which arises is
this: Is the soul, when acquiring
knowledge at a distance, projected
through space by the will of the actu
ator? Or is it faculty unexplained, for
“knowing simply because it knows,”
similar to that which we were taught
to regard as the omniscience possessed
by the Deity? In other words : Does
the faculty travel, or is it continu
ously resident in the patient? Some
results of my experiments seem to an
swer affirmatively to the first question,
and others to the latter. The abilities
suggested in the second question,
would, if present, dispense with
those' referred to in the first.
There were several peculiarities
which suggested that the seeing qual
ity traveled. For instance, when
great distances were required to be
overcome there was always a delay of
one, two, three, or perhaps more,
minutes, during which the patient
would be apparently making effort of
her own. During these times she
would converse in a contemplative
sort of way: “No, I don’t see him (or
her). I can only see faces, strange
faces, many of them—strange shapes
intermingling.” At this period of
search the patient often expressed her
doubt and inability. Then, suddenly,
she would say, “Oh, yes, now I see
her.” And from that moment all doubt
ended, and the person searched for was
described with certainty, rapidity, and
precision.
This seemed to indicate a period of
flight, whereas in telling the date of
the unknown coin which was close at
hand, the answer was instantaneous.
Again, in the New York experiment,
the seeing quality of patient appar
ently passed over the town in the
distant State before entering the
house where the person searched for
resided. She paused, evidently curious,
and remarked in the most matter-of-
fact way as to the streets and their
general desolation. Her explanations
as to her own position in the room
were the same during her vision as
they were after I waked her, when we
talked it over. The patients always
spoke as if they were actually present
in the body at the distant scene.
The New York patient made this
clear. She explained,during the vision,
and also afterwards to thi* effect: “I
was at the window, standing behind
her [the fierson searched for], I did not
see her face—at least only a part of it—
though of course I knew her by her
figure and her voice when she spoke to
the sister. 1 could see the address on
the letter over her shoulder, or around
her arm,”
Th* patient considered that she was
present in her own person and that
she occupied a certain spot in the
room while she watched. This oppose*
the idea that the seeing quality is a
resident one, which might be expected
to view all sides of the person searched
for. The fact that she always said, “I
stood there,” and “I see the sister,”
etc., suggests that the individuality,
that is to say the soul-ego, of the
patient did the work. There was no
exception as to this in any experi
ments.
As to the ability of a customary
patient to resist the influence : this, I
fancy, depends on many things—on
the varying will strength of the actu
ator, on the extent of patient’s suscep
tibility and habit of submission, etc.
In one case a patient came as far as
the door of the room where l was, and
then laughingly defied me to make her
c«me in. I stood against the opposite
wall and did iny best. Sbe derided
my efforts and vowed antagonism.
The combat lasted a long time, cer
tainly for half an hour, and just when
I was thoroughly exhausted, 1 saw her
fac- lose expression, and she turned
and went away. I thought she had
won the struggle, but I walked after
her and found her, three rooms off,
lying on a sofa, in the heaviest mes
meric sleep. It was like the trance of
the East Indian fakirs, and, while not
hurrying, it took perhaps five minutes
to effect the awakening. It was to
this patient that I succeeded in
conveying my commands from
a distance. When she did not
know I was in the house I have brought
her into my presence by will power.
Then I would ask her why she came.
She has replied, “I was at my sewing
(or other occupation), and suddenly I
felt that you were here and wished me
to come.” This occurred two or three
times. On other occasions, t hough, the
attempt failed. ‘ Unless the patient
was at some occupation like sewing,
which leaves the mind almost a blank
and readily susceptible to impression,
the effort did not succeed.
A Buried Treasure.
There is a fortune buried near the
town of La Plat*, in the Argentine
Republic, and the people down there
are going crazy over it. The money
is all in Bank of England notes, and
there is three hundred and fifty thou
sand pounds for the man who is fortu
nate enough to fil'd it.
When the civil war broke out in
Chili, President Balmaceda, realizing
the importance of a navy in such a
conflict, commissioned Col. Pinto, one
of his most trusted friends, to proceed
to England and purchase or build a
couple of fast cruisers, which were to
be manned by picked crews and sent
out to Valparaiso as fast as sream could
carry them. Pinto was also given bills
of exchange on several London banks
to pay for the cruisers, and he lost no
time in starting on his mission.
The only possible way he could get
to England was by taking passage on
one of the steamers running between
Valparaiso and Liverpool; and, as she
had to go via Magellan’s Straits and
up the Atlantic, the voyage took con
siderable time,especially as the steamer
had to call at Montevideo, Buenos
Ayres and Rio de Janeiro.
Before Col. Pinto could reach En
gland and secure the cruisers he need
ed, Balmaceda saw how things were
going, and realizing that lots of ready
cash would a good thing to assist
him out of the country in cise he was
forced to leave, he telegraphed Pinto
to let the cruisers go and hurry back
to Valparaiso with the money as fast
as he couldf*
Pinto took the precaution of chang
ing the bills of exchange into Bank of
England notes, and with the 360,000
pounds safely stowed away in a steel
box in his big trunk, he started on his
trip back.
When the steamer reached Monte
video the news of Balmaceda’s down
fall reached him, and he concluded
that the Argentine Republic would be
a more pleasant place to reside in, for
a while at least, as he was known to be
a personal friend of the dethroned
dictator. Pinto took up his residence
at La Plata, and during his residence
there formed the acquaintance of a
gentleman named Parry.
After the excitement caused by the
war had died down Pinto concluded to
revisit Chili, but he d*d not want the
money to fall into the hands of his
enemies. He was afraid to place it in
any of the banks for fear the victorious
insurgents would put in a claim for it,
so one night when everything was
quiet he took the precious box out and
buried it.
This- done he went back to Chili
with a light heart, but no sooner had
he set foot on shore in Valparaiso than
he was arrested and thrown into a
dungeon, and told that when he got
ready to hand the money over to tne
Government he would be re>ea-ed, and
not before. Some of Pinto’s friends,
however, told him that so long as he
kept the money out of the hands of his
enemies he was safe, but as soon as he
turned it over to the Government he
would b u taken out and shot as a tra*tor.
Pinto is a native of Buenos Ayres,
and he concluded to use part of the
money in effecting his release if possi
ble. With this object in v ew he wrote
to Mr. Parry telling him how matters
stood, and offering him one-fourth of
the money if he would induce the
Argentine government to take up his
given in the letter,but would be sent to
Mr. Parry If he concluded to accept
the proposition.
Mr Parry by accident lost the letter,
and the finder soon inade known the
fact that the big fortune in Bank of
England notes was buried somewhere
near the town, and the result is that
about every man that can secure a
spade is now ont digging for the treas
ure, and leaving everything else to
take care of itself.—San Francisco
Chronicle.
ROB WHITE. By Marion F Ham,
36mo.; pp. 4; cards and silk cord,
Chattanooga, Tenn.: The author.
This is a charming little poem, with
the light of the summer dawn, and the
rustle of waving wheat-fields, and the
merry whistle of birds all through it.
Mr. Ham has proved himself a thor
ough sympathizer with nature in this
bit of verse, and a master of strong,
picturesque and melodious language.
The poem is handsomely gotten up
with appropriately illustrated pages,
and if it meets with its deserts, it will
have a wide sale as a Christmas card.—
Nelson Ayres, in N. 0. Pvayune.
One of the first moves of D. G. Ed
wards after being appointed general pas
senger agent of the Cincinnati, Hamilton
and Dayton road was to introduce both
the American and European plans on
the company’s dining cars, and it has
proved a success, the operating of the
cars in this manner paying better than
the old method of $1.00 a meal. Mr.
Edwards assigns as a reason for so
changing the methods to a little incident
which came under bis observation; “I
was sitting at a table in a dining car
when in came a lady and her son, a great
big young fellow. ‘All I want,’ said the
lady, ‘is a cup of tea and a bit of toast.
‘It will cost you a dollar, madam/ said
the waiter, who naturally enough felt in
duty bound to warn her. ‘Well/ she
replied, ‘I don’t care, I must have them.’
And when the waiter asked the boy
what he would have, he said he did not
care about anything. I thought they
coaj^ not afford two dollars, but that
the woman, who looked ill, felt she
must have the tea and toast, and then it
seemed to me that a system that made
you pay for a dollar meal whether you
ate it or not might be changed to advan
tage. And I think we will be the gain
ers by the change. In the first place,
people who cannot afford a dollar for a
meal, and who never entered the dining
car, will now come in and get some
thing.”—Cincinnati Enquirer.
“A Splendid Paper.”
The Christmas number of The
Sunny South is just out and is one of
the handsomest and most attractive
periodicals ever issued in the £outh.
Its illustrations, typography and mat
ter will compare favorably with any
Northern publication. The poem*,
stories and sketches, specially written
for this number, are bright and spark
ling specimens of holiday literature,
and the serials are of thrilling inheres’.
Mr. Henry Clay Fairman, the editor,
is making a splendid paper, and it
should go into every Southern family.
The Christmas number is an indication
of what the managers of this superb
literary weeldy propose to do, and few
will see it witlWit at once sending in
their names for a year’s subscription.
Tt is the great story weekly of the
South, and in addition to Mrs. Mary E.
Bryan’s brilliant serials it contains
the best work of our favorite Southern
writ ers.—Atlanta Constitution.
“I have used Salvation Oil for frosted
feet ana backache and found it to be the
best remedy on earth.” Mrs. Maggie
Nieder, Mt. Pleasant, Westmoreland
Co , Pa.
Can spiders prognosticate weather
changes ? is answered by Dr. McCook
in the negative, It is usually believed
that spiders fairly well indicate the
weather by ceasing to spin before foul
wea’ her, and weaving freely before
fair weather. From observations made
for s x years past, he finds that many
species of orb weavers, which were
colonized and kept under clo*e obser
vation, make snares freely before rains
and storms, frequently even in the in
tervals between heavy rains. Thus a
popular fallacy is destroyed.
Why weary your throat and patience
with that wretched cough when a bottle
of Dr. Bull’s Cough Syrup will cui^ you
promptly.
Electricity, where unretarded by at
mospheric influences, travels at the
rate of 288,000 miles a second. Along
a wire it is, of course, vastly slower; a
perceptible period of lime is occupied
by the electric current in sending tele
grams over long distances.
By the recent discovery of a fossil
hemipterous lusect in the upper beds
of tne Lower Silurian formation of
Scania in Sweden, the horizon of in
sect life is lowered very considerably.
Heretofore rhe honor of being the most
ancient of insects has been ascribed
to the cockroach one having occurred
in the Upper Silurian of France,