Newspaper Page Text
hrH ) HH t" 1 < 3 Ph O
C. H. MEDLOCK, Editor and Publisher.
VOL. I.
The Old Year and the New.
'ihe good-old year hath run his race.
And the latest hour draws near;
l lie cold dew shines on his hoary lace,
And he hobbles along with a listless pace,
i’o his lonely and snow-covored resting place
In the northern hemisphere.
See how big still' joints faint and shrink
As the cold breeze whistles by;
He hath a bitter eup to drink
As ho watches the sand in his hour-glass sink,
Standing ’
alone on the icy brink
Ol the gull of eternity.
His scanty robe is wrapped more tight
As the dim sun dwindles down;
8 ar ® ansu t° c , eer the , night
( Wht when crimson , ^° S roses Cnll and 8 ! 1 ? lilies y O " C0 white ,,,ade blight,
Halt hid his golden crown.
Ho reels—he slips—no power at hand
To check him from tumbling o’er;
The hour-glass clicks with its latest sand,
And each movement falls like the stroke ol a !
brand |
On one already took weak to stand—
He falls—ho is I
sueu no more. j
And, lo! in the east a star ascends,
And a burst oi music comes—
A young lord, followed by troops ol iriends,
Down to the broad equator wends,
I\ bile tile starthat travels above him bends
O’er a sea ol floating plumes.
—Miles O’Reilly.
THE AGATE RING
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
I.
Evening's shadows were closing in
over a greai and populous Western me
tropolis. Without, the storm-king
reigned supreme; the wind blew its lit”
fui, violent gusts; the snow-flakes fell
thick and fast, and the air was sharp
and chilling. To an interior scene,
where none of the accessories to comfort
and eouient existed save warmth and
light, we would conduct the reader this
cheerless wintry night, the fourth evc-n
ing preceding that most joyous of ail
merry seasons in the year, Christmas
Diglit.
While without, despite the falling
snow and general inclemency of the
weather, a thousand merry sleigh-hells
keen, tune pi - i...^
cheerful hearts and intensify the smiles
of hopeful anticipation on joyous faces,
within the walls of the city prison co m
parative silence and gloom alone exist.
Here, with no hope of participation in
the gay festivities of the season, moody
or sullen under restraint, or reckless and
phlegm it,ic under long usuage to incar
cerations, the hundred and mwe prison
ers behind the iron-barred doors either
converse in a low, dreary undertone, or
stand gazing at the few late visitors in
the corridors importuning them for pe
cuniary or other favors. To one of the
cells, where its two occupants are seated
on the iron bed engaged in earnest dis
course, lot turn our attention.
The elder of the occupants of the cell
is a young man not more than thirty
years of age, and whose manner, words
and dress bet >ken the gentleman. The
prison register tells us that this man is
held on a charge of forgery. His com
panion is a mere boy, whose pale, sad
features tell a story of suffering and
want more than of vice or crime. It is
he who is speaking.
“Yes, Mr. Vane, they tell me I can
leave here to-night, a free man. After
keeping me here for nearly a month,
until the weather is too cold to tramp it
far without freezing to death, they say
that, as the only charge against me is
vagrancy, I am free to leave here, pro
vided I leave the city within twenty-four
hours. A dreary lookout, indeed. I
have no home, no friends. Except your
own, I cannot remember a kind voice for
years. I shall leave when the turnkey
goes the evening rounds. Is there any
thing I can do for you outside?”
A look of thought-ful meditation crosses
the other’s brow at the query. Then a
quick flush comes across Iiis face, suc
ceeded by one of intense pallor.
“It i s hopeless to try it!” he mur
murs, “ and yet—. Yes, my friend, you
can do me a favor. I am held in this
prison on a false charge of forgery.
Since 1 have been here systematic
bribery and influence have rendered my
incarceration a complete isolation from
all my friends. I have sent letter after
letter from here to the woman whom
I have loved—to the woman who pledged
herself to become my bride. Guilty in
the eyes of the world, condemned by the
silence of my own lips, I must atone for
the crime of another, unless she gives
me permission to speak. Oh, but to
see her for one brief hour! Then, with
her avowed sanction to the sacrifice,
knowing her to be still true to me (for
if she knew all she could not but love
me the stronger), I could suffer in the
blessed belief that when my period of
punishment was ended she would be
mine!”
The tramp gazed upon his companion
with genuine sympathy in his eyes.
“ What can I do for you?” he asked,
impetuously. “ I do not know your
story beyond the few words you have
just told me, but I know you are an in
nocent man, and your friendship for a
SYLVAN I A, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JANUARY (>, 1880.
poor vagrant has won my heart to you.
Command me in anything in my power,
I will do it for you!”
“Thank you, my friend,” said the
! other in a subdued tone of voice. “ My
j story I will not tire you with. Suffice
j it that it is in the interest of a certain
man to procure my conviction speedily,
and to prevent me communicating with
the woman I love. I am satisfied that
i not on[ have letters to Inez Saltore
y m y
! been detained, but that his misrepresen
j tations to her have prevented her com
ing to me. See here,” he said, produc
ing a letter, sealed, addressed and
stamped. “ When you leave here will
y^u place it in the most eonvenient let
tHI ,hox? And here,” taking from his
hngPr ?. nn * P la, « Circ! f t ™nt*'Bing ...
a peculiar agate setting, “is a slight re
membranee from me. No. Take it. It
was her ring, but it is all I have left of
value, and it may save you from starva
tion.”
The tramp took the missive, hut de
ciined the ring.
“ You must,” persisted the prisoner.
“You will need what you may obtain
from its sale to keep you from freezing
and hunger.”
He pressed-it upon the tramp as he
and started with an exclamation
of alarm as a form quickly passed the
door of his cell.
“Can he have been listening?” he
murmured. “ What, going?” as the
turnkey opened the door. “Good-bye!
The tramp left him with moistened
eyes and a choked utterance. Through
: Iiis tear-dimmed eyes he did not notice
the form which followed him steadily;
kept him in view and watched him as
he dropped the letter given him by his
fellow-prisoner into a letter box.
“It must not reach its destination!”
muttered the man, who was none otlic r
than the enemy referred to by the pris
oner in his conversation witli the tramp.
“ I have played my cards to skillfully to
be trumped now. If Inez Saltore ever
sees Edward Vane my plan3 will end in j
their reconciliation and his liberty.”
He consulted his watch as he spoke,
it was seven o’clock. The last mail had
been collected for the night, and as an
idea Seemed to strike him forcibly lie
eft the spot, walking hurried— tay.
licft I!yias fully ien o’clock in—
|< .,A -A*. ^ tsMwPffy V* 1 ' -
serted, yet he looked '.round
as he lifted the cover of the slot in the
end of the letter box into which the
tramp had dropped Edward Vane’s let
ter. Into the hoie used for the admis
sion of letters he slipped a small, com
pact package, narrow and long, first,
however, touching a fuse which pro
truded from the end of it to mouth? the lighted
end of a cigar lie had in his when
lie withdrew a few yards—waited till lie
heard the report of a sharp explosion in
the letter box. He had succeeded. Ed
ward Vane’s letter would never reach
its intended destination. A charred
mass with the other letters in the box
its mission ended where the tramp had
left it.
And sad and disappointed the poor
prisoner waited in his lonely prison cell
for the reply.
H.
Christmas Eve! The suppressed ex
citement of the preceding few days, the
busy preparations crowded into their
happy and swiftly-flying hours, had cul
minated in decorated parlors, ablaze
with light of lamp and minor candela
bra on festooned and present-loaded
evil’green trees Happy, light-hearted
children made their homes ring witli
laughter and mirth, passed and re
passed the windows, revealing the
bright background of light and beauty
and opening a veritable vista of para
dise in the eyes of a miserably-clad,
half-starved man who had wandered
along the streets of the most aristocratic
portion of the city in the hope of receiv
ing a pittance from the passers-by. But
all were too thoroughly engrossed with
their own enjoyments to heed poor,
homeless, starving John Alden, the
tramp!
“If they would only arrest me again!”
he murmured, bitterly, as lie walked
wearily along, “ The person with
something to eat and warmth is better
than this aimle-s wandering. The ring!”
he continued, as he gazed at the circlet
on his linger. “ Oh, no! not yet. The
only pledge of friendship I ever pos
sessed shall not go until I amabsolutely
starving.”
lie little knew how near he was to it
as ho stumbled tremulousy down an
area steps. And then he had a dim re
membrance of ringing a door-bell, and
of a strange sensation in his head Then,
when he again realized what breathing
existence was, he was lying on a sofa in
the comfortable dining-room of the
mansion at the door of which lie had
fainted away.
A young lady, petite and pretty, stood
regarding him witli a sympathetic, anx
ious expression, as.he opened his eyes.,
“ Boor man!” she said to the house
keeper. “ He must be very hungry and
cold!”
“1 will attend to his wants, Miss
Inez,” replied the woman.
In his sense of dreamy languor, induced
“ONWARD AND UPWARD.”
by the wandering reason gradually re
turning to full consciousness, the tramp
murmured, almost involuntarily:
“ Inez?—yes, that was the name—Inez
Saltore. Poor Mr. Vane. Is the ring
safe?”
“ Mercy on as! what is the man say
ing?” ejaculated the housekeeper as
Alden half arose and raised his hand to
see If the ring was still on his finger.
“Hisring!” cried Inez Saltore, for it
was the young lady in question at whose
doorstep the jtramp had so strangely
fallen; “ where did you get it?”
" Pardon me, I was wandering in my
mind. Hunger and cold—”
“Something for the poor man to eat,
Mrs. Rousby!” peremptorily ordered
Miss Saltore. “Now, tell me all about
it. You knew Edward Vane? I am
Inez Saltore.”
And ho told her all—of his incarcera
tion with Edward JVanc; of the mailed
letter which she had never received;
after which, acting under a wayward
impulse and tilled with a now idea, she
hurried on her wraps and was soon
whirling away in a carriage to the city
prison.
III.
There were two guests at the Saltore
mansion on Christmas day who were
little expected there the day previous,
They were Edward Vane and John Al
den, but the latter, arrayed in a neat
suit of clothes and fresh from the hands
of the ’’arbor, but little resembled John
Alden, the tramp.
For Inez Saltore had gone straight to
the prison, and then the true story came
out. It seemed that about three weeks
before $1,000 had been abstracted frtyn
John Saltore’s money-drawer, and a
forged check on a well-known business
man substituted. Edward Vane, Arnold
Peters and Mr. Saltore’s son were clerks
in the place, and suspicion, augmented
by Arnold Peters’ covert insinuations,
at once attached itself to young Vane,
who was arrested. Peters, by bribery
and other cunning schemes, had inter
cepted all Vane’s letters, and by false
stories and insinuations had almost pu-
suaded her of her lover’s guilt and lack
of love for herself. Then Vane told Iter
the entire story. It was her brotllwr
who had CouMcHed the forgery, bol
other’s crime. 1
John Saltore was not long in proc-ul
ing bail for his wronged clerk, arm
under promises of reformation, which h,
well kept, young Saltore was not prose
cuted. lle confessed his crime and
evinced sincere contrition, but had not
courage enough to free his fellow-clerk
from the crime. The matter was hushed
up, and Ardold Peters discharged.
A pleasant Christmas dinner led to
better acquaintance with the fellow
prisoner of Edward Vane, and when the
latter became old John Saltore’s partner
and son-in-law, the ex-tramp became an
employee of the firm, and all through
the influence of the Agate ring.
Advice on Winter.
What this country is yearning for
just now is a sleighing that will come
on along in November when it should
and stay. We’ve cutters, horses and
good-looking gil ls enougli in this coun
try, and for the government not to fur
nish a better article oi sleighing is an
oversight that blocks the wheel of com
merce and interferes with the blight
dream of love. Some winters we have
a little sleighing that melts right off, and
other winters it gets all covered up
withsiiowso as to he of no use. We
would throw out the suggestion that
Congress abolish the present snow used
for sleighing, and construct a more
permanent sleighing by making the road
beds of plate glass, and have them
greased with lard oil daily from a
sprinkler. Of course the oil would be a
trifle costly, but the savins in time to
the public, and the corps of officers who
would officiate on the sprinklers would
for the expense.
Then another need of the season is a
different kind of ice. The style of ice
now in fashion may be good enough to
give body to creams in the summer season,
but it is entirely too fragile and brittle
to be safe for the use of skaters. We
want a kind of ice made without any
air holes in it, and akind that is just as
thick in one place as it is anywhere.
Then could the gay skater and skatess
go bounding over the frozen surface of
the deep mjll pond without fear of a
premature bath. Then too, if a plan
could be devised to raise the temperature
of the ice a little, it would be better for
awkward and timid skaters like our
selves. We frequently sit down when
we are skating, and the amount of cold
hid in a few square feet of ice offers too
much encouragement to the latent rheu
matism. If tnis ic* could be taken in by
the fire, or heated by the Holly system
we should want to skate oftener than
now.— Ed. L. Adams, in Marathon In
dependent
At a recent concert it was the subject ol re
mark that in what fine “voice” the singers
were; in commending his good judgment the
leader will pardon us for whispering that he
always recommends Dr. Bull's Cough Syrup foi
clearing and strengthening the voice.
A Humorist Tells How Wire Is Made.
Burdette, the Burlington Hawkey e
funny man, is traveling about the coun
try, lecturing and writing letters to his
paper. While in Johnstown, Pa., lie
was taken through the Cambria iron
works. His description of the manner
in which wire is made there is anamus
ing combination of fact and fun :
Did you ever see them make wire?
Tt is simple enough. I can make it now.
You start in with a great ingot of steel
that will weigh as much as the new
court-house, and you come out with a
tiny thread of wire, line as a boy’s mus
taehe. And it is done quickly. The
work runs on like the days on a thirty
d:ty note. After the wire comes from
the roughing rolls—you know what they
are,'of course; I do-you just take a
kind of an iron heavy and
strong, hut very similar in shape to the
one made of shingle, upon the broad
end of which you used to sit, while your
gentle mother held the small end in her
active hand. The iron paddle of the
Gautier iron works is perforated with
holes, very large at one end and very
small at the other. You beat and file
down the rough, large wire until you
get it pushed through one of these holes,
thon the reel takes hold of it, and you
wouldn’t believe me if I told you how
vapidly that wire was reeled up, sent
through another and another process
until it was ready for the market. All
tlie 8tee l for tl ie Brooklyn bridge is made
l lere > every pound of it. I went in to see
them galvanizing the wire for this
bridge. Formerly, this wire was all
coBed lls soon as it came through the
Datli. Coiled hot, it cooled in the coil,
am1 its tendency was to remain coiled.
^ ou l |ave often noticed that when you
were swearing at a bit of wire you
wanted to straighten out. They used
1° l laV ® sixteen machines at the Brook
lyn bridge, just for straightening this
wire. But now they do tilings better
than that at the Gautier company’s
works. They trot the wire along about
one hundred and fifty feet between the
bath and the reels; it cools while it is
straight, and its tendency is to keep
straight and to spring from the coil. If
you go to the Brooklyn bridge now you
will find these sixteen machines for
straightening ist4i wire as fSntkjpa^om. idle as a colony of
®?g?a o VhBiipF }
didn’t.
The Bath in Cold Weather.
Dr. Arthur W. Edis, writing to the
British Medical Journal on the subject,
says: “Now that the weather is be
coming very cold in the morning, the
question of giving up the cold sponge
bath, or converting it into the tepid
bath, forces itself upon the attention of
many who, without being invalids, are
not in such robust health as to enable
them to establish a reaction after even
temporary immersion in cold water.
The French method of providinga small
tub of warm water to stand in whilst
dressing, on returning from a bath in
the sea, is a luxury few will forget who
have experienced it. This method of
standing in warm water is one that
might, with advantage, he more fre
quently followed during the winter
months by all who indulge in cold bath
ing. In place of sitting in an ordinary
sponge bath of tepid water, a far more
invigorating plan is to fill the hand basin
with cold water, pour-a small canful of
warm water into the bath placed c.ose
to the wash-stand, then stand in
this, and sponge with cold water from
the basin. Where the full-length bath
is employed, a momentary immersion
in water at fifty degrees Fahrenheit, and
then getting out into a foot hath in
which’ a little warm water has been
placed, when soap or a flesh brush may
be used and another immersion in cold
water resorted to, enables one to enjoy
the invigorating eff'°ets even in the
coldest weather. Thinking it possible
there may be many who will be glad to
avail themselves of the hint, I venture
to draw attenticn to the subject.
lu Pursuit of Vast Estales.
The New York World has an article
giving a history of some large estates in
AmericaandEngland that various fami
lies are striving to recover. The article
closes with the following tabulated
summary, whioh gives the names of the
various estates, the number of heirs to
each, and the amounts which the claim
ants seek to recover:
Hei s. Estate.
Anneke Jans......... 1,000 * o’oflo’onn
Baker................ 87 25
Carpenter ............ 200 , 000,0 0
Chadwick............ 5 37,000,000
Edwards............. 160 90,000,00 l
Hyde, N. S........... 200 12,500,000
Hyde, Ann........... 150 360,000,0 0
Hyde, Bklyn......... 1 5,000,000
Jennings............. 1,835 t to,001,000
Kern................ - 2 ^ 0 , 000,1100
Leake................ - 100 , 000,000
Mackey............. 1 10,to 7)00
Merritt............... 10,0 0,000
Shepherd ............. 15 175,000,000
Trotter.............. 200 200 , 000 , 0(10
Towneley............. - l,800,000,00n
Lawrence-Townley 50 500,000,0-0
Van Horn............ 4,000,0 >J
Webber.......... 6) 50,000,0 .0
Weiss................ 4 2”,Of 0,0(0
Grand total—20 estates; 3,868 hr-irs; value
of estates, $4,740,500,000.
TIMELY TOPICS.
I)r. Oliver Wendell Holmes occupies
1 a house m Beacon loosing out
j u .> Kin a '-harming view of the Charles
I H" built the house himself and
i hlled it full of books. Many of these are
: theological books, for, inheriting his
father's theological tastes, the doctor
ia fond of wading commentaries and an
n °hiting them. In the attic Dr. Holmes
keeps his bench and tools, for he is
mfi, ’ ,lanic as well as professor, doctor
and writer. A correspondent of the
k'^Melphm Press says that Holmes he
" an to write poetry in his fifteenth
year, and when he penned a line which
had in it the sentence:
“The raging billows murmured into calm,”
his mother who belonged to the Jackson
family of Boston, said to her son : “ You
ar(! a poet.”
Dr. Finseli, in his just published trav
I els to western Siberia, tells us that the
great road from Nijni-Novgorod to
men in Siberia, is bordered with a few
gaps, by an alley of birches, which are
sometimes in double rows. This, as Dr.
Finseli ventures to conjecture, must lie
the longest avenue in the world. It was
planted by order of Catherine II., and
was to have been continued to Irkutsk.
It was forbidden under the severest
penalties —banishment to Siberia or
death—to fell the smallest of these trees,
a precaution without which this unique
avenue would never have been finished.
Many of these trees are now shattered
by age, and those planted in their stead
are no longer protected against damages
or destruction by laws so severe as
formerly.
The will of ex-Governor McArthur,
now before the United States circuit
court at Washington, is a rather queer
document. More than fifty years ago
the testator, who lived at Chillicothe,
Ohio, will. died, and left an extraordinar^
He was a man of great wealth,
but very peculiar. His estate amounted
to some millions of dollars, but by iiis
will it was not to be divided until the
youngest grandchild should reach the age
of twenty-one years, and then be appor
tioned equally among the entire family.
The will was i»\th«?i(£te in an 'important
whether ’ he living grand
say meant
children or included those yet un
born. The executors declined to act
under these unusual conditions, andjlie
county court appointed a trustee to take
charge of the property. Fifty years
passed away after the old man’s death
and grandchildrer continued to be born.
Finally some of the heirs thought it
about time an understanding was arrived
at, and went into court, and the ease
is before the couvts yet and the grand
children continue to be born.
Fifteen-ton loads ot lumber, piled on
immense eight-wheeled wagons and j
drawn by teams of six or ten horses or
mules, are to be seen on the mountain
roads in California. The driver sits on
a very high seat, with one foot on a
powerful brake, and usually handles the
reins and long whip with seeming care
lessness. The San Francisco Argus,
however, pictures him at a more excit
ing juncture: “Let a scare take place;
let a herd of runaway cattle appear at
a bend and set the horses wiki, and
then see what will happen. The day
dreamer w ill become a giant of strength;
he is up in a flash; he shortens his hold
upon the reins, and feeling his wagon
start up beneath him, places a foot of
iron on the brake. The horses snort
and rear and surge; the harness rattle,
the dust arises, the load shrieks again,
and the huge wheels turn fatally faster
and faster. An instant may hurl the
wagon down into the valley with its
struggling train- a mad rush to the
other side of the way may end all in one
horrible plunge. Muscle, eye, brain,
skill are then brought to work so splen
didly together that the peril is averted,
and the looker-on, who knows not the
way of the land, regards the teamster
with profound respect thereafter.”
An Ill-Fated House.
The house built by Commodore Rog
ers with his prize money long years
since in Washington, has brought bad
luck to many inmates. Philip Barton
Key, after being shot by Sickles, died
there, it being the headquarters of his
club. Mr. Seward and his son Freder
ick, just resigned, were living there
when nearly assassinated by Paine.
Two members of Tyler’s cabinet, Palmer
and Gilmer, killed by the explosion of a
gun on the Princeton, had lived there.
The secretary of war, John C. Spencer,
was living there in 1822, when his son
was hung at the yard-arm of the brig
Somers for mutiny. Secretary Belknap
lived there when lie became involved in
disgrace. Superstitious people believe
there is always a curse attached to
houses built with prize money .—Detroit
Free Press.
The small boy who asked for “ more
stuffin’ ” right out befoi e all the company
got all the “ dressing” he wanted after
dinner was over .—Merrill-
TERMS—$ l 50 pick Year.
NO. 24.
On Christmas Morning.
Heaven is nearer,
The skies are clearer,
The snn shines blighter.
Our hearts are lighter,
On Christmas morning.
Heaven is nearer,
Our triends are dearer,
The air is rarer,
The earth is tailor,
On Christinas morning.
Joy-bells ring praises;
The soul it raises,
On music’s pinions,
From sell’s dominions,
On Christmas morning.
The shadows'dritted,
Ol sin, seem lilted;
And cure and grieving
Find sweet relieving
On Christmas morning.
Mankind seem purer;
Our hope seems surer,
Oar doubting ceases:
We hail Christ Jeans
On Christmas morning!
— George Birdseye.
! ITEMS OF INTEREST.
!
A novel scheme—A proposition to
write a romance.
Out on a fly—A canary escaped from
its cage.— New York Herald.
Missouri girls are sweet enough to lie
called Mo-lasses — New York News.
“ ’Tis rather neat upon your feet
A pair ol skates to And;
’Tis rather drear upon your ear
When skates slip up behind.”
—Free Pns$.
Mr. Gough says he found tilings
g reatly , clla . “S® d m England. There are
ancI l , tere the cwo f^eration Podges the P led total f abstinence and th
’ «' e
are T® ab8tamerS than wlien ho
' w
^ s Chicago s boast that site counts
more within her borders than any
other city in the Union |To the corn
positor : Be careful in setting up the
word “ border ” not to insert an“ a.”]—
ktochester Express.
“Mamma,” said a live-year old, the
other day, “ T wish Von wouldn’t
baa that i nmi to feaf a*.-Wesj–iige e-ii '
and two jars of rasberry jam to amuse
him .—ban Francisco Post.
“ How far,” asks an exchange, “ will
bees go for honey?” The answer to this
conundrum is unknown to us, bur it is
a well-known fact that a bee. will go
miles out of its way for the purpose of
stinging a barefooted boy on the heel.
Norristown Herald.
“ I want to sell you an encyclopedia,’
said a book agent to one of our foremost
pork men, the other day, who, by the
way, is better posted on pork than he is
on books “ What do I want with your
encyclopedia?” snarled the p^rk man;
“I couldn’t ride one if 1 had it.” He
thought it was a new variety ot veloci
pede.— Cincinnati Saturday Night.
PROBABLY IT WILL HOLLOS.
Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
Through pathless realms ol’ .“pace,
Roll on!
What though I’m in a sorry case
What though 1 cannot moot my bills ?
What though I suiter toothache's ills ?
What though I swallow countless pills ?
Never you mind!
Roll on!
Roll on, thou ball, roll on'
Through seas ol inky air,
Rol Ion!
It’s true I Vo got no shills to wear;
It’s trne my butcher’s hill is due;
It’s true my prospects all look blue;
But don’t let that unsettle you!
Never you mind!
Roll on!
—.Yew England Homestead.
Gloomy Thonglitsaud Gloomy Weather.
Dull, depressing, dingy days produce
dispiriting reflections and gloomy
thoughts, and small wonder when we
remember that the mind is not only a
motive, but a receptive organ, and that
all the impressions it receives from with,
out reach it through the media of senses
which are directly dependent on the con
ditions of light and atmosphere for their
action, and therefore immediately in
fluenced by the surrounding conditions.
It is a common-sense inference that if
the impressions from without reach the
mind through imperfectly-acting organs
of sense, and thise impressions are in
themselvijj set in a minor lesthethic key
of color, sound, and general qualities,
the mind must be what is called
“ moody.” It is not the habit of even
sensible people to make sufficient allow
ance for this rationale of dullness and
subjective weakness. Some persons are
more dependent on external circum
stances and conditions for (heir energy
—or the stimulus that converts poten
tial kinetic force—than others; but all
feel the influence of the world without,
and to this influence the sick and the
weak are especially responsive. Hence
the varying temperaments of minds
changing with the weather, the outlook,
and the wind .--London Lancet.