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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.”