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“BSIUHEire INDEPENDENT,"
PUBLISHED EVERY SATUUDAY AT
tUJITMAN, GA.,
BY-
J. C. GALLAHER,
TEUHS OK WIMCBIMIONI
DOLLARS per Annum in Adntmce.
MY FIRST MYSTERY.
BY H. IX.
I *m going to nU on occurrence
which sumo people will think very insig
hiftaMt. In tlio oven tenor of my homely
life, however, it was what is termed an
1 ‘event. ’' It turned oat for the best, as
many bitter things do in this life of strug
gle, Many, lam told, are scourged by
the affltetion under which I unconsciously
suffered. I relate my there
forts by the earnest advice of my friend
the vicar, for the benefit of all whom they
♦nay concern.
I lived on the borders of Eppiug For
est, in a small house, wliich looked like a
tall sqfaarc tower of brick; it was old, and
covered over at one side, and part of an
other, with ivy. I’hcre was a pretty little
flower garden, with the finest stock-gilli
flowere in that part of the world in frost,
and hollyhocks of various colors, and
rosea nodded over the wooden paling. A
VCry good fruit garden, though the trees
were a little old, containing^,apples and
pears, together with gooseberries and rasp
berries, and other “small fruit,” was in the
tear.
I was always a staid, quiet follow, who
liked homo and a punctual, comfortable
life, but being a bachelor, I began, at the
age of nine-and thirty, to feel a littli
lonely, aud my income being nearly five
hundred a year, and my house and appur
tenances being quite enough for a mo lest
family, I very secretly, aud wire much
precaution began to lookout for a Wife.
I don’t think any one suspected me of
matrimonial tendencies, with so much cir
cumspection did I conduct matters.
I chose Miss Martha l’eudles. She was
tall and silent, had commanding lilack eyes,
and was full of prudenoo. I knew I had
Only to speak. I did. She looked sur
prised. Her magnified,t black ey< s were
fixed steadily upon me for nearly half a
minute, while she meditated, and then she
accepted me.
Sho was, I may suv, much admired.
She was majestically handsome. 1 felt
that I was fortunate. 1 had secured the
most devoted and economical of women.
She came home. I assured her of my
tmdyiug affection, and tulkcd of culinary
and household affairs. I asked her, among
other things how much Wine—it was a
subject I was sensitive upon —she thought
would quite suffice licr every week. She
told me she never drank wine, boor, or
any other exciting fluid; ipxl at dinner,
luncheon and supper, her glass always
wtood emp.y, except when there was water
in it. I loved her more and moro every
day.
I must now relate a painful occurrence;
h mysterious state of things; a discovery;
and an affliction which occurred during
the first years of our married life, and
wbioh I remember still with constoma
tion.
My wife was attacked with an extraor
dinary sort of fit. How long she had been
Buffering from that kind of seizure, I
could not tell—he could not toll. 1 will
• relate how I first discovered her alarming
Infirmity.
Bear Martha had retired to rest, per
fectly well, at toll o’clock. 1 had some
letters to wribjLwhich detained me, for
some hours hWr in the drawing-room.
While writing them, 1 had occasion twice
to consult aocounts, which were fit din a
little press in our bedroom.
My first visit was at about a quarter to
eleven. I found lier in bed, but wide
awake, and apparently perfectly well, ex
cept that her fnco was unusually flushed,
and her eyes unnaturally brilliant, Min
said she fell wry nervous, and complained
of my stealing about the house, disturbing
her.
I entreated her to compose herself to
sleep. She answered that if I were good
enough either to stay in the room, or to
stay out of it, it would compose her more
than anything she could do.
Shtvliud such a pointed way of putting
things !
I was obliged to go np a second time on
h similar errand, about an hour later. 1
put off my shoes lest 1 should disturb her,
and I listened at the door. >She was i
breathing stentorously; or, in less technical
language, snoring.
Dear Martha never admitted that she
snored. It made her very angry that I
Should insinuate or believe any such thing.
And yet undoubtedly she did, and so loud
end long, as not unfrequently to keep me i
awake for hours.
On this occasion the sounds were wel
come to me because I could enter the room
without fear of disturbing her, and doing!
so, I found her still very much flushed,
but in a profound sleep.
When I finally returned, she was still mi or- j
jpg; but to my horror, I found her lying j
on the floor. 'My terror increased, for, on j
endeavoring to get her up, I could not i
waken her. With the assistance of the i
housemaid I got her into bed. But she |
continued insensible till live o'clock in the i
morning, when I found that on raising
her head, by an additional pillow, she
mumbled a little, and showed some signs of
returning consciousness, and shortly after,
to my great relief, I did succeed in wak
ing her. After talking for a few minutes
quite like herself, she fell into a natural and
healthy sleep, and next morning was just;
as usual. !
I became, in consequence of what I had 1
Witnessed, extremely uneasy about dear
Martha’s state of health.
1 began to watch her more closely, and I
found, to my consternation, that tnese al
arming seizures were of frequent occur
rence* and always at the same time. She
would go to bed perfectly well; we would
both fall asleep; I would then, perhaps an
hour or two later, be wakened by her per
sistent snoring, and find her in the state I
have described.
It was horrifying; for I could not tell
how it might end. I represented to dear
Martha that she ought to consult a physi
cian. She would not hoar of it. J. then
advised her to live a little less abstemiously.
I implored of her to take some stimulant,
if it were only a glass of sherry at dinner
and lunceon. But on this point she was
Inexorable also, and when I pressed it, she
became quite impatient.
I write with my diary beside me, and in
it I find tho following entry: ‘dear Martha
makes me ashamed of myself. How Quix
otically abstinent she is ! While I sip my
- tumbler of brandy and water, and dr nk
my pint of ball and half daily. My apoth
ecary, to whom I have described her for
midable seizure, persists in his opinion
that the nervous system is prostrate, ancl
cannot recover its tone without the use of
a moderate stimulant. How is it that wo
men, are so prone to enthusiasm, and so
jeady in a good cause to rush iafo frarti-
VOL. I.
pal extreme ? She has laid down a rule of
life for herself, and the menace of death
it elf is powerless to induce her to relax its
self imposed austerity.”
I fell in l -,' a habit of waking at about
one o’clock every morning, and I found
that thin state ,pf coma had aotuully be
come of nightly recurrence.
I booiuno too 'Uixious to nllow an affec
tion of so formidable a kind to become in
curably established without taking active
measures for the restoration of my excel
lent wife.
Without a hint of my intention to her,
I mado up ipy mind to consult Doctor
I’clliam, in viiom I had implicit confi
dence, upot UtU case.
I was lucV.y, YVchar.ee would bring him
by my lira ■, on his way back to town, at
about one o’clock the very next morning.
He would t non make mo a quiet visit, and
!ho would,. ■ the patient, aud consider the
case carefully.
We wore early people. and usually re
tired to bed st precisely ten o’clock. This
! night, however, I was obliged to take my
place at the annual dinner of the Mutual
i Sustcntati. n and Benefit Brotherhood, n
i sort of mutual iasirunce union of which 1
I was a niv>..'.. ; ')-, ; m l ait. on the commit, Cos. |
I diu lea reaou U>>me till twelve o’ClAch. ;
My wife, the servant told me, lmd gone I
j to bed at her usual hour, and was quietly !
I asleep. She knew nothing of my arrange- j
incut with Doctor Pelham.
I had been able to tbink of nothing else
during our animal dinner. 1 could m t
j say what mortal derangement of brain or
heart the diagnosis of tin' doctor might
] disclose. 1 was now looking from the
front sitting-room window across our little
! garden, now lighted brightly by the moon,
| to the road, eagerly watching for the ar
rival of the physician's carriage.
X grew nietv nervous as the moment ap
proached. Tho clock struck one, and not
; very long after, Doctor Pelham’s brougham
j glided up to the little garden gate, and,
leaving the hall-door open, I ran out to
| meet him at his carriage door, and to eon
‘ duct him into tho house.
Quietly we canro in, he asking mo a
few questions la) we did so. The hall-door
. was softly shut, aud, at his request, 1 led
him at once up to the patient’s room.
There she lay, just as usual, in tlm same
profound coma.
lie felt her pulse. He stood by tho
: Hide of tho bed, candle in band, and ex
amined her face. He made me turn her
’ in the bed, first on one side, and then on
■ the other; then lm mode mo shake her
1 gently, then more briskly. Then he made
j me call her gently, then loudly, and finally
j 1. satisfied him that she was in a state of
| coma. He raised her eyelid, and looked
j at her eye, and stooped, as lie did so, very
I dose to her face. Then lie stood again at
1 the side of the bed, looking down on her,
; with his lips compressed and <4awu down
at the corners, and a hard frown, and he
: nodded ouec or twice an he was thinking,
j “That will do,” said he. “Dot us go
i down.”
1 was very much alarmed; his face
j frightened me. I led him again to the
i front room.
■‘ls it anything very serious, doctor ?” I
I neked, very much afraid of the answer
that, was coming.
“Serious enough,” said ho.
j “But cau’t you do something for it V I
j said.
“Nothing," ho answer, and.
“Good heaven ! sir, wliat is it ?” I ex
claimed.
“You and your vicar may do her more'
I good than leonld,” said Doctor Pelham.
“But wh.it is it ?” T exclaimed, in some
j thing bordering on distraction.
It had occurred to me that he thought
it attributable to some malign spiritual
; agency, and lie looked quite mysterious
j enough to mean anything.
Ho smiled faintly, and nodded, and
i looked out through tho window for a mii
| mont, and. then turning to mo with a little
; shrug, hi' said:
I “I see there are moro things jin heaven
j and earth than are dreamed of ,iu your
j plilosopby. Have you read your Arabian
Nights ?”
“Genii ?” I asked, thinking he meant
I thereby to indicate supernatural agency.
“You remember, then,” bo continued,
j “a story of a lady who had certain unac
i countable peculiarities which puzzled her
| husband. lie lay awake one night, pre
! tending to be asleep, art usual; he watched
Jier, saw her rise, aud leave the room. He
followed, keeping her in view, and tracked
j her to the tombs, where he saw her at her
| infernal repast, and discovered her to boa
ghoul?”
“A ghoul !” I exclaimed.
! “Now, in tiiiscose," he continued, “you
must practice a similar stratagem. You
! must have nerve to follow it up."
“And what shall 1 see. ?” I said.
“Wonders,” lie replied.
“But what?” Insisted.
“Huy nothing to put her on her guard,
| and your eyes will tell you that. 1 shun t
l say a word more on tho subject. Good
j night,” ho said, and went quickly to the
hull door.
I followed him, and tried to Blip his foe j
into liia handaa he passed me. But he |
peromtorily declined it and repeating
“Good-night.” ran down the steps,
through the garden, jumped into his car
riage and had driven away before I half
recovered the stun of what lie had said.
I took a long walk next day. I kept as
much as possible out of my wife’s way.
The doctor’s mysterious conduct had given
me vague and secret misgivings about, her;
and a sense of the espionage I meditated,
a duplicity imjiosed upon me as a matter
of coniceuce, and such a had never prac
tice before in all my life, combined to em
barrass me in her presence.
I don’t know whether it was fancy, hut
I thought her fine black eyes followed me
about with a steady but stealthy suspicion,
all that evening, as if she were intuitively
informed of the altered state of my
thoughts, and knew, with a fearful antic
ipation, that light was about to break in
upon me.
I did my best to appear unconcerned
and easy. We played onr short game of
eaarte as usual after tea. I read aloud a
a chapter of Miss Burney’s charming
novel of Cecilia, and then our portion of
the Pilgrim’s Progress and lastly, out ac
customed chapter in the Bible ;
I saw her look at me as I did so, in a
marked and suspicicious way, and and be
fore wefwent up stairs she asked a little
abruptly:
“Are you quite well this evening, Jerry t
I laughed (what a, hypocrite I was be
coming) as well as I was able, and assurred
her that nothing was amiss with me, that
I never felt better, and only wished taut
she were half as well.
She scorned- safcded, and wo went to
rest.
QUITMAN, GA., SATURDAY, APRIL 11, 1874.
It was my habit, ever since I had dis
covered her liability to tho seizures which
1 have described, and which appeared to
me since my secret interview with Doctor
Pelham, the night before, unspeakably
more awful tlmu ever, to keop a light
burniug in the room all night. I was
therefore furnished, without any departure
from ordinary habits, with means and op
portunity of observing all that should
pass.
I affected to fall into a sound sleep; my
wife appeared to me rosily to do so.
I eon tinned to lie perfectly still, and to
brent)in long aud deep as before. I be
gan to feel unaccountably nervous.
At about a quarter to twelve my wife sat
up iu tlm bed, and looked at me. I had
closed my eyes, except tho least bit iu life.
Him sal as still as a wax linage, looking at
me. Then she leaned over me and lis
tened. Then softly aud lightly she slid
out of bed at the far sjiju, without a sound,
unlocked a press iu the wall, aud applied
a black bottle to her lips.
1 had risen, follow oil her round tho bet!
with a noise! ct:o tread on the thick-carpet,
and before tie laid mado throe great gulps
from its contents, stretched my hand over
|sl.v :Uer, Mid seized th e bottle by the
, Deck. - i
I wish she had screamed; I almost wish
! .-.lie had fainted; I don’t know why, but
; tier silence and stillness' shocked me.
; There slm stood, looking up in my face,
| for she had cowered down a little, with a
I horrid deprecatory smile, and her face
and lips ns white, us death.
I tliink 1 was as much horrified as she
was, 1 felt positively freezing with hor
ror.
' “Give me that,” I said, gently but
firmly withdrawing the bottle from her
luiud. The smell told me what it was be
fore I raised it, and read “best cognac
brandy” on its scarlet and green label.
i peeped into the press, or rather closet
round which broad shelves ran. Whole
regiments of empty bottles, similarly la
belled, stood there beside some half-dozen
next the door, with their seals unbroken.
This 1 saw at a glance. My wife attempted
a little swagger, and affected indignation,
but it broke down. The ease was too
strong for her. Sho sat down on the side
of tho bed and cried, f cried also.
She said at last:
“I’ll boa better wife in future to you,
Jerry.”
I kissed he., and wo cried together a
great deal.
Poor thing I She made a noblo offort.
Sho was very much changed after that. 1
used to soo her looking ut me when she
thought I was not minding, and her fine
eyes till up with tears. I never alluded to
the occurrence. There was good in her;
and I think my forbearance touched her.
Our good old vicar was often with her.
She resisfeft bravely; nnd, thank Heaven,
quite mastered her fault.
She was very affectionate, am l seemed
to wish to make amends, as if she owed
mo a great reparation. 1 told her never
to think of it more. I reminded her that
it was only to herself nlic had been unkind,
aud did my best to choir and make her
happy.
I saw her looking at mo as I have
described; and nometijues she would turn
away from me suddenly, and 1 knew she
was iu teal's. She had quite lost horgaiety,
and seen dto have some, great euro always
upon aer mind.
I took her away for change of scene to
lthyll. But she began to grow more mel
ancholy, and talked as if she had no hope
of Heaven. Tho dejection of her mind
afflicted mo.
About six months after she was attacked
with inflammation of the lungs. It was an
unspeakable comfort to mo that our good
old vicar happened to he a visitor at lthyll
at that time. Before she died, for it was
her last illness, she became comparatively
serene and hopeful.
My married life was of less than time
years’ duration, and I have never thought
of marrying again. Thirty years have
passed since the occurrence of the seono
j have described, aud thero cannot remain
to me many years more of my solitary so
journ on earth.— Wood's Household Mat/-
azlne.
The following is said to be a correct
transition of a letter written by Publius
licntulus, President of Judea, and sent by
him to the Beiiate of ltome, in regard to
the personal appearance of Jesus Christ,
when the fame of Jesus began to spread
abroad in the world. Those aro lire
words:
There lives at this time in Judea a man
of singular virtue, whose name is Jesus
Christ, whom the hnrharious esteem a
prophet lmt his own followers adore him
os the offspring of thei mortal God. Heealls
buck the dead from their graves, anil heals
all sorts of diseases with a word or touch.
He is tail and well shaped; of an amiable,
reverend aspect. His hair is a color Unit
can hardly ho matched, fall into graceful
curls below his ears, and very agreeably
touching on liis shoulders, parted on the
crown of the head like theNazarite.
“His forehead is smooth and large; his
cheeks without a spot, save that of a lovely
red; his nose and mouth formed with ex
quisite syinim try: his beard thick, and of
a color suitable to the hair of his head,
reaching an inch below his chin and purl
ing in tho middle like a fork; his eves
bright, clear and serene. He rebukes
with majesty, counsels with mildness; his
whole address, whether in word or deed,
being elegant and grave. No man lias
seen him laugh, but lie has wept frequent
ly. He is very temperate, modest and
wise; a man for his excellent beauty and
divine perfection, surpassing the children
of men.”
♦— ■
It is telegraphed about the country, by
parties in Washington, that tho Secretary
of the Treasury, Biolierdson, may feel it
proper to si rid in his resignation soon.
But the telegraph takes care tolinsiat upon
it that this act will be wholly "voluntary,”
and against the wishes of the President.
However, the plain truth is that Richard
son will only re ?gn, if ever, to escape im
peacliment. I" is danger now begins to
stare him in the face. And how about l! e
gentleman who appears so lovely as his
“Assistant Secretary”—Sawyer, who,when
he was in the Senate, year before last,
connived with Buttler to frame this
“moiety” and plunder bill, and to get it
passed into law)? Both Btltlerand Richard
son have joined Jayne and Sanborn in the
vehement cry that “the only way to purify
the party is to reform it from tho inside. ’
Connecticut, however, is going to give it a
penetrating and elevating kick in the rear.
Let us see what that will do.
-♦**—
Fifty veterans' of the Mexican war re
side in Los Angeles.
[From tfio N. Y. Express. ]
OUR SATURDAY DAY SER
MON.
ova veiith, ovammss asdouu
iioi'ica. %
“Tho soul of that non-ant wan innvuJ with eotu
paasina, and 1005,4 him and forgave him tho
debt." Matt, xvui, 37. * * * “Hut tho sumo
servant, when lita fcUnw-**rrant full down at Ids
font and bosmight him, saying, Have patlonon
with mo, amt 1 will j>ay tins., all. And ho would
not, hut went and oast him into prison until ho
should pay Thu debt," Ma xvlll, 28, 29.
AVo arc all debtors oaq to another, and
all dependent ono upon another. Debt is
equivalent to a promise :o pay, and in law,
equity and justice the lebt must bo paid.
Injury tea neighbor , trespass, by fraud
or by criminal act or ii, out required satis
faction, just ns sin agai ret God requires re
pentance from the u.Luder; and happily
m tho ease the Croat: i wo are promised
forgiveness when wo u. ike the only com
pensation within our power—-sorrow for
the offence and an ho'.est and earnest ef
fort to sin no more. ,'jtiut in tho world
there are many kinds cf debts and obliga
tions. .fit. Paul -,as i&Jcbtor only in the
sense that I':' by . T the example of
God to mail, tffiu he fwvon to others w hat
ever of knowledge ho could impart to those
who wero without knowledge. Iu this
sense we aro all debtors—debtors to do
good to all men as wo have the opportu
nity—to some by material relief, and to
some by advice aud sympathy of good
words, which may become good deeds iu
lifting men from the slough of despond
into the purer atmosphere of faith in God
and hope for man. To nil that wo can
tench we owe instruction -if not direct in
struction, example, or both in ono. If
knowledge is power, it is power over ig
norance, ns strength is power over weak
ness. Owe no man anything, then, but to
love one another, for love is both tho ful
filling of the law and the greatest good on
earth or in heaven.
There are a great many debts in the
world besides money debts. ’These wo are
to pay as obligations of credit, honor and
justice, and must never fail, if wo can help
it, to meet our promises to pay. The
good names of millions of men are found
in their written business notes, and the
failure of one often loads to tho failure of
many. “Pay me what thou owest, is the
fashion of the world, and, hard as tho de
mand sometimes is, the world would not
move an in any order if tho payment was
not prompt ; lmt there is no need, as in tho
parable, of taking the debtor by the throat ;
nor, when patience mid time are asked, of
casting tho debtor, a a aforetime, into
prison. Indeed, this is the vory worst use
to put him to. There may be a time, too,
when it is ns necessary to forgive debts as
to forgive injuries. The lord who forgave
the large debt of ten thousand talents to
the unjust servant, who immediately re
fused to forgive his fcllow-sorvaiit udebt of
100 pence, is bet a fair illustration of hu
man life and practice ns we daily see it.
Who, alas! so hard ns the poor upon the
poor ? Who so cruel ns the overseer and
tank-master chosen from tho same tribe
class or body ? Who so cruel and careless
as work people who forbid others, suffer
ing for broad, to work except upon their
j own limited and bften ’ impossible eortdi
| tions ? If ignorant people act according to
| the darkness around them, and which is
! ttie excuse for their rule of life at homo
and their bad combinations elsewhere, how
great, is that darkness I And even when
tlm light sliineth in darkness tho darkness
eotnprchondoth it not.
Tho debt or obligations which men owe
to each other comprehend tho fulfilling of
the law, for the lesser love to man, in the
sense that man is less than the Creator,
includes the greater love to God. Tho un
just steward who gave to every ono of his
lord’s debtors a receipt for one-half or two
thirds of their debts, that lie might, when
he lost the stewardship, bo received into
their houses, forcibly illustrates u large
class of people always ready to give away
other peoplo’s property. In public lifo,
aias, how very many, trustees, senators nnd
others, fool at liberty to do unto others
wlmt they would not have others do unto
them 1 This is what is called making to
yourselves friend of the mammon of un
righteousness. Tho unjust judge, coun
sel, clerk, workman, oach and all aro faith
ful to the unrighteous mammon of riches.
Legislators often indulge in a bountiful
private charity to compromise for a great
public wrong. Ho do men who support by
their votes and voices private) interests at
tlm expense of the State anil people. Hel
lish legislation is one of tho great, wrongs
and burdens of the commonwealth and a
tqtal departure from nil the lawful pur
poses of a truo government.
It is not alone when thero is a cry of fire
on board ship or in the dwelling, nor alone
when tho pestilence is in pursuit of us, or
wrecks and storms with attending danger
meet us on every hand, that wo see “every
man is for himself,” and act tho part of
“tho devil take tlm hindmost;” lmt our
selfishness is ever more of greed of power
than of love and good to onr fellow-men,
anil in ail such cases we but add anew evil
or anew debt to those already unpaid.
Among our debts are sins, offences and
transgressions of every kind. In law and
custom, obligations of money, goods and
service, or a bond with condition and pen
alty, are sacred. In the latter relation it is
fur more pleasant to say with l’ope,
“There (Uettmy fattier, no man’s debtor."
as it to say with Chaucer, “In honor debt
legs.” Debt in law means, oswe have said,
compulsion as well as agreement and obli
gation. Wise men will be aware of the
entanglement of such promises, for they
often follow one iu sorrow to tlm very
threshold of the grave, and stopping not
there, but rather leaving an entanglement
of misery to others. Ho who dies pays
not all debts, as is sometimes said, but
only the single debt of nature. Otherwise
material death is, indeed, tho end of all
human things. All promises, nlao, are
debts, and, if founded in equity or mercy,
if possible, must be met on demand.
From the Almighty we expect this to the
very letter, in all that is agreeable to us;
and why not, then, in all things that are
not according to our liking ? The promise
of tho dissolution of life on earth is no
more true than the promise of “tho com
ing of the day of God wherein the heavens
being on fire shall be dissolved and the
elements shall melt with fervent heat. "
But. then, according to tho same promise,
we are permitted to look beyond, “to the
now heavens and a now earth wherein
dwelleth righteousness.”
Mon should bo alike careful in making
obligations and faithful in maintaining
them. Tile very essence of Holy Writ is
the recorded promises of future life. In
the Old Testament, it was the promise to
Abraham nnd tho Patriarchs that foreshad
owed the Messiah. The Land of Promise
was tho iinsurance of tho Passover, the. safe
dry land made through the Red Hon, and
of tho laud flowing with milk and honey,
all allowing the covenant of God with his
people, and the supremo goodness of the
Giver of all good; hut those promises were
no less true than that tho subtlo Oiheo
nites, for their falsehood, should become,
hewers of wood and drawers of water.
The wisdom of Bolomon Came by prom
ise of the Lord, and his thanks were thut
the Lord gave rest unto his people, Israel,
according to nil that Ho had promised.
“There Iniih not failed one word of all Ilis
good promise, which he premised by the
hand of Moses, llis servant.”
A promise upon tlio one side implies
performance upon (he other, mid in the
conduct of life, it is not enough that men
mean well; fur more it becomes them to
do well. Even tho good intention is no
excuse for tho had action, though ire to
our intentions, it is to ho hoped that we
shall be judged leniently, where there is
an earnest effort to follow good impulses
by good conduct. Roth our intentions
and our promises must needs often be bet
ter than wliat wo do, nnd fortunately God
looks to the heart and tho effort, while He
pardons the impulsive act.
“They also Serve who only stand anil wait."
if waiting is onr purpose to help our fel
low-men, and net the waiting of tho idle,
the sluggard, or the man of despair. That
little poem of Leigh Hunt’s is both a text
and a sermon:
“Aliou Ben Adhem (may Ids tribe Inerease)
Awoke one night from a (loop dream of peaoo,
Amt saw, within the moonlight in toe room.
Making it rich and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a hunk of geld:
Exceeding goiter had mado lieu Adhem hold,
And to the presence in the room he said:
‘What writest thbu?’ The vision raised its head,
And, with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered: ‘The mimes of those who love the
Lord.’
‘And is mine one?’ said Alum. ‘Kay, not so,’
Replied tho angel. Alien spoke more low,
But cheerily stlli, and said: ‘I pray thee, then,
me us one Hull /ores hixtiUoir- nn’ii .’
The angel wrote and vanished. The next night
It came again with it great wakening light,
Ami showed the names whom love of God had
blessed,
Andie! iieo Adhem’s name led all tlio rest.”
This love of our fellow-men is from on
high, and this love is to be tested by
moans within our reach. It may bo the
slimiest gift of the poor, or all the treas
ures of tho rich. It is written in the
Decalogue. It is recorded in almost every
sentence of the sermon on tlio Mount. It
is tho debt paid, tho promise performed
the bread cast upon the waters and re
turned fourfold. It is justice and mercy
sitting upon tho same throne —subject and
ruler bound together and blended, ns it
were, into one harmonious whole. The
sweet charities of life horn in the best
affections of men, growing in their hearts
and expanding in their minds and lives
culminate ill both the glow and solace of a
well-spent life. “Forgive us our debts,”
is our prayer to Him who both gives and
forgives who owos no debt to us, and W’bo
is more ready to forgive than we to ask
forgiveness; but then comes tlio Divine
order, “If wo forgive not men their tres
passes, neither will our Heavenly I‘atlior
forgive ns our trespasses.”
"Wo do pray for mercy, and that same
prayer doth tench us to render deeds of
mercy. ” From Heaven it comes truly, as
pictured try the grout poet of nature un
qualified, unstrained and
“Dropping nr tho gcntlo rain from Heaven
Upon the place bom :itli."
But this mercy must be, ns the anno
gifted writer again says, "to minister to
the mind diseased and to pluck from the
memory its rooted sorrow. ” It is the
medicine nliko for body, mind and soul,
for tlio poor in spirit, for tho pure in
heart, for tho poiice-makers -but not more
for those than for those who are athirst or
are hungry'. God’s gifts on earth aro for
all, and all alike need them. They aro for
Dives ilk well as Lazarus, and the rich
often need them more than tlio poor; and
for tho ignorant anil debased, as well as
the learned and the proud. God’s sun
shine readies all lands, nil people, all
conditions. Uiw gifts underlie tho earth
in all the buried wealth placed there for
man’s use, and they rest upon the face
of the oarth in all the abnndanoo of the
never failing harvest. Above, below, and
upon the level; in tlm air wo breathe, in
light and shade, by day and night-—nil
that we hoc and feel is a part ol that never
failing bounty from the Giver of all good.
That these sometimes do fail is tlio result
of our own mistake, folly or crime. God
never fails in ono jot or tittle of Ilis
promises to mankind.
Finally, there are debts in nature be
sides death, and these constitute some
of the most beautiful and sublime works
of the Creator. Whut do wo not owe to
the God who nu*lo us; to tho heavens
above us, the work of Ilis hands, anil
which daily declare His glory ? Wliat, as
human beings, do wc not owe to the light
and warmth of tho sun V How its beams
penetrate the cold earth, warming it into
ttie means of life, giving bounty to every
flower use to every blade of grass, health to
life and limb, transforming nature from
tlio dark, dreary clouds to sunlight, and
tho cold damp earth to tlio light amt
beauty of the eternal sun, with the oarth
so formed and ho moved that day by (lay
every part of it is made to fool its benig
nant beams.
Thorn’s not of grass a single blade,
Or loaf of lm cheat groon,
Where Heavenly skill is not displayed.
And Heavenly wisdom seen.
There's not a star whose twinkling light
Shines oil ttie distant earth,
Amt clioors tlio silent gloom of night,
But Heaven gave it birth.
But it is riot in immensity of space
alone that wo seo tho benevolence of our
God. While His everlasting arms embrace
tlio earth anil hold the water as in the
hollow of His hand, His power and good
ness enter the humblest place, on oarth.
It is not alone the blue sky, the green
oarth, forest, foliage, tho nir filled with
songs, hut the heart, the homo, and life
within that most needs and feels the ever
lasting gifts without. The Kingdom of
God is indeed within, ns well as far as the
eye can range beyond this kingdom of
love and light, of truth and hope.. Happy
are they who on earth can so direct aud
govern what in within as to enjoy wliat is
without, and still happier they who on
earth see in tho distance their homo in the
house not made with hands, eternal in tlio
heavens.
Gail Hamilton says a child is a mosaic of
his ancestors, getting, for instance, “bright
ness from his mother, deception from his
father, n furious temper from bis uncle, i
and self restrain from his aunt.” That
last clause in often particularly true.
NO. 49.
Decay and Hope of Nations:
Tho old despotisms being dead, never
to revive, over their corpses wo should
stop on to what should bo an easy victory
-but yot what might boa shameful ruiu.
Canon Kingsley looks upon tlio |roponsi
bilitios of tho free nations of modem times
not boastfully, but in four and trembling.
(led so help us, on whom Ho lias laid so
heavy u burden, ns to make us free 1 For
if wo fall, wo fall bo know not whither, be
dared not think. The old despotisms—
corrupt, luxurious, effeminate fell be
onsnso they wore oaten out by universal
selfishness nnd mutual fear; they hud at
last no organic coherence. Homo braver
mid abler, and Usually moro virtu, iis peo
ple, struck one bravo blow at tho huge in
flated Wind-bag, nne behold 1 it collapsed
upon the spot. And then tho victors
took the place of the conquered, and be
came iu their turn uu nristooiHoy, and
then a despotism, and in their turn rotted
down and perished. And so, adds the
writer, tho vicious circle repeated itself ,
ago after ago, from Egypt and Assyria to
Mexico and Torn. And therefore wo free
people have need to watch, and sternly
wutcli, ourselves. Equality, of some kind
or other, is onr natural and saomiugly in
evitable goal. But there are two equali
ties the true.and false, tho noble and
lmso, the healthful and **■ shr tie; tlio
equality founded on mutual generosity,
and the equality founded on mutual envy;
tho equality which longed to raise all alike,
and the equality which desires to pull down
all alike. Hide by Side iu tlio heart of ev
ery free man, and every free people, are
(wo instincts struggling for the meatery,
called by' tho same name, lmt tho same
relation to each other as the satyr to the
god. In proportion as to that noble idea
conquers, and men unite in tlio equality
of mutual respect and mutual service, they
move one step further toward realizing on
north the kingdom of god. And in pro
portion as the base idea conquers, and
selfishness, not self-sacrifice, is tho ruling
spirit of the State, men move on ono atop
forward toward realizing the kingdom ol
the devil upon earth.
Not. a very plcasont picture, this, but
one has but to look back to seo its truth,
and to Greece and Romo, of to-day not loss
than to Hpuin and all Spanish America,
and partia ly to Fiano>‘ and the far J a !.
Hero is a true picture of tlio past and tho
real cause of decay; but unless wo watch
and work, prosperity may give us another
Tacitus, to find, not our rise, lmt, ns with
Romo, our fall, since like causes every
where produce like effects.
The three oldest peoples known on this
planet wero Egypt, Chinn aud Hindostin.
As it was 400 years ago in America, so it
was iii North Africa, in Asia, 4,000 years
ago, or perhaps 4,000,000. We lmd
proofs as yet. There loomed out of dark
ness of legend into tho as yot dim dawn of
history, colossal monarchies with aristocra
cies, priesthoods, seemingly always of a
superior, conquering race, with a mass of
common folks composed of older conquered
races; of imported slaves, too, and their
docondants. The conquering races came
wiser, stronger, fairer than tlio conquered;
at first, probably, civilizers, not conquers.
Ho aristocracies, in the truo sense, wore
formed. But the higher calling was for
gotten, the purer light darkened in pride
and selfishness, in luxury and lust; as in
(fonisia tho sons of God saw the daughters
of men, that they were fair, and took them
wives of all that they choose. Anil
so a mixed race sprang up and increased,
without detriment at first to the common
wealth. But it did not last. Selfiisliness,
luxury, ferocity, spread from above ns
well as from below. Tlio just aristocracy
of virtue and wisdom became an unjust
one of more power and privilege; that
again, ono of mere wealth, corrupting and
corrupt, and was destroyed, not by tho
people from below, but by the, monarch
from above. And so arose those truly
monstrous Eastern despotisms. But such
has boon tho last stage of every civilization,
even that of Rome, until this very day, ex
cept among the men who like us spoak
Teutonic tongues; nnd who have preserved,
through all temptations, and re-assorted,
through nil temptations, tho free ideus
which liavo been our sacred heritage ever
since Tacitus beheld ns with respect and
awe among our Gorman forests and saw
in us the future masters of tho Roman em
pire.
[From tlio New York iinUutiii.]
Effect of the Currency Legislation on
Trade.
As the prevailing stagnancy of tlio city
trade has been in a large measure utlrib
btitcd to the mispoiiso caused by tlio late
inaction of Congress upon the pending
currency questions it was to be expected
that, the definite expression of the pispo
t.ion of both Houses of these issues, du
ring tlio past week, would in some measure
affect ttie tone of the markets. Of course
as neither tlio House nor tho Semite have
yet declared their yiews on the banking
question, there is ranch uncertainty still
as to what may be tho complexion of the
financial measures of Congress as a whole.
The fact, however, that both-branehos of
the national legislature have decided in
favor of milking 8100,000,000 till) pornni
ueiit limit of the legal tender circulation
carries with it a fair implication that tire
final result will bo the authorization of n
permanent increase in the circulation: and
this is sufficiently understood among the
merchants to have at least a partial influ
ence upon their anticipation as to the
future course of trade, and therefore upon
their present disposition to buy or sell.
Although the full effects are not to be ex
pected to appear thus early, we have been
at some paints to ascertain the earliest
symptoms, and find that ns a rule, the
larger markets have been much firmer,
especially on “future” contracts, and that
transactions have been decidedly more
active.
IN THE COTTON TRADE
tho currency measures wliich caused n
marked advance in ttie cotton market on
Friday had less influence on Saturday,
and prices receded nearly buck to flic
figures current before the advance, but
the business for future delivery during
tlm two days has been unusually large,
The opinion prevalent to-day (Heturday)
war, that caution niftier than decided
action was the policy best to be pursued.
All as yet was uncertainty, and tho better
plan would be to await further develop
ments.
the dry noons tba&
Tho pri v dent fooling in the dry goods
t ade in legal and to tho increase of im
reney is one of satisfaction that some
decision has been arrived at and a limit
fixed to its circulation by Congress. Busi
ness had become almost paralyzed by
uncertainty; aud although there is a di
versity of opinion as to the wisdom of
expansion, nil agree in accepting the sit
untion in preference to the reign of doubt
wliich has Gristed so long. The spring
trade Ims so far advanced that it is not
thought values will bo materially affected
by tlm increase 6f currency; btlt the down
ward tendency of tho market it Is thought
may be arrested.
Tho jobbers report n little fiibte dispo-'
sition to bpornto on tho part of their
customers, Which can be meaaiirably
traded to tho prospect fit plentiful and
cheap money; but buyers froiu tho interior
are still proceeding cautiously, nnd ihdi
vidtinl purchases lack tho liberality of or
dinary seasons; although many doßcri; •
tions of goods are at present cheaper thru
they have boon for yours, and the paying
little or no profit to tho manufacturers,
Tho importers generally deprecate the
contemplated increase of tho currency)
as they tnfeo the view that a eoiisidenili'le
incronso in the gold premium will follow
the currency legislation, which Will have
tho effect of restricting importations for
tho fall trade nnd enhancing valnes.
fk THU miUAOHTTIFFH TRADE
there wire no perceptible effect until thsi
close of the week, when Boilers, under it
vaguo and general expectation that valih .1
must bo affected favorably, asked higher
prices for their goods, without getting
them.
Titn Provision trade,
however, lias been decidedly excited and
the market unsettled from these causes,
and the values of speculative articles have
advanced rapidly, while other articles i:i
which there does not happen to he a spec
ulutivo (that } “short”) interest have licet!
much less affected, nhd then chiefly in
sympathy with tho speculative advance
rather than from any increase inlegitiiiiaiS
demand.
IN TUB miOCERY TRACE
there was also noticeable to 'at. cteled state
of opinion in regard to the futn.e. This
was the Carte in most branches bf the trade,
hut sugar ruled quite; stroilg iff value. The
sugar refiners, anticipating tlm changes
that have occurred, have within a short
time mado mtufiiinlly bilge purchases, be
lieving in tho present lbW prices for thtf
raw product, and also operating in untici
pation of a lip-gor business as the result of
expansion. In the other grocery markets)
however, tlrnro was a disposition to await
events.
AT Till) WES'?; •
The Chicago papers report the trade in
provisions and breadstuff's more active,
with an upward tendency in prices nnd
more buying on speculation, in nnticipa- 1
tion of a more active course of business.
At Cincinnati an improved tonb in the pro
vision trado is reported and a heal-tlieir
tone in the merchandise markets genefalli.
-■
Ex-Governor Vance in Atlanta.
Tho Atlanta Ifernld says this srentlemah
lectured on Wednesday night in that city
to an nudisneo of four hundred persons oil
“Tho Scattered Nation,” and gives tlm
following synoposis of his address:
That tin- Jews wero the greatest com
mercial people in tlio world; there isariver
in tlm ocean (the Gulf Stream) of large ex
panse, whose waters ebb and flow nil un
affected by tho turbulent billows and furi
ous waves surrounding it; and so there is a
river among mankind Which refuses to'
mingle with surrounding waters, and
whose own characteristics can bo distin
guished Ire the naked eye. This river is
the Jewish peoplo. For thousands of years
they have preserved the saino customs, tho
same forms, and cherished the same ideas
and institutions. With all the persecution
the Jewish people nnd church arc still
standing, though the stones of their tem
ple have fallen. Every Christian olmreli
to-day is a graft upon tip) stock of tho
Jewish church, nnd each Christian perpet
uates the Jew, Tho beautiesand riches of
Palestine nnd the condition of the Jews in
ancient time, wero each told of with glow
ing language and thoughtful expression of
the lecturer. Jerusalem, he said, still sits
solitary grandeur on Judea’s hills, and tlm
stonen of its temple, though crumbled, nre
reverenced, and just ns thought is more
lasting than gratitude, will remain revered
to the cud. Tho pyramids may fado nuu
full away, and no deep-seatedremembrance
will remain, but Jerusalem shall always
stand a brighter and more glorious mtinfi
ment than towering spire of any church in
Christendom. The wanderings and suffer
ings of these people during eighteen hun
dred years is not to be pursued, nor would
ho, as a Christian man, wish to do it, for it
staggers human credulity to beliete it a!L
And what docs their rengioir cbnvey in
this particular ? That the wrath of a reli
gious bigot is worse than tho crudest tor
tures of hoik Mr. Vanco hero described
the peculiarities of the various classcß of
Jews iu different countries, putting those
in Europe and America among the mbst in
telligent and progressive. Their great
longevity, freedom from malarious diseasfts,
nnd peculiarities of form, were also spoken
of and described. Mr. Vance said that ns
n mini who had given the subject the
greatest study and utmost attention, lie
would assort that the Jows to-day are tire
soberest, most industrious nnd moral peo
ple on the gloho. He said he never knew
yet of a Jew heingimprisoimd foranything
above a misdemeanor. They contribute
much in charity to the Gentle, but never
asked them for charity in return. Tlm
most they liavo ever askod has been to bo
let alone. If a Jew brenks down iu busi
ness they set him up again, and he never
saw a Jew that ‘ could not read, write and’
compute at figures. The lecturer said tho
Jews had faults as citizens, and believed
there were Jew swindlers, but not enough
of them to compare with Christian swin
dlers. lie had found that a Jew could not
make a living in Ntuv England, for Jona
than, with a knifo and sliinglo, could whil
tie Isaac out of liis door-stops before'he
was aware of it.
Mr. Morehouse was on the New York
Central with a ticket which read “Oflld
for'this day only,” and unfortunately for
Mr. M orehouse it was dated the day before.
He was therefore an ilYfpostOr, and refus
ing to buy another ticket, he was put off
the train. But the management of the
road felt very sorry for the poor fellow af
terward, and handed him a check for islo, J
600. This they did, however, nut until the
idea was suggested to them by a dozen or
so of gentlemen to whom the circumstances
were related and who thought that s'omc
thiug ought to be paid Mr. Morehouse for
the shocking manner in which lie was
forced to soil his hoots by walking through
the mud.
A publisher in Yeddo, Japan, has just
issued a life of Washington in forty-four
volumes, printed in Japanese characters,
and illustrated with numerous engravings.
On the frontispiece is the portrait of the
first President of the United States, in the
costume of the present day, wearing a
heavy moustache, carrying a oano in his
liaud, and escorted by a terrier dog.
Tho following sweet dispatch passed
over tho wires to a Maine girl, the other day.-
“To : Your life is a rich bouquet of
happiness, yourself the sweetest flower.
If nothem winds wnisper southern wishes,
how happy you must. be. (food night.
Happy die mis, sweet love. Prank.”