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THREE DOLLARS FEE ANNUM.
VOL. XXXIII. NO. 27.
ConirMims.
Our Similar Schools.
Tlio present period of Sunday-school his
tory in this country, may be justly styled,
the era of Sunday-school revival. Within a
few years past, there has been a wonderful
awakening all through the land, on the
Sunday-school question. Conventions have
been called, institutes have been organized,
celebrations and festivals havo been held,
addresses have beon delivered, articles have
been written, until very many of the people
have not only beon appealed to, bnt aroused
—old schools have beeu re organized and
re-juvenatcd, and new schools havo been
formed, along the “highways,” and in tho
“byways.” Nor is there np to this timo,
any diminution of interest, or decrease of
effort. All classes, all ages, and denomina
tions througliont the land vie with each
other in the glori ons race for Sunday-school
precedence. So momentous did the subject
appear to our last General Conference, that,
that body of wise and faithful ministers and
laymen liestowed no small amount of
thonght, and labor, and as wo Itelieve not
a little prayer, on this single item, and final
ly inaugurated anew state of things which
we heartily pray may give a tremendous im
petus to the interest. All this is good, very
good, and wo are justified in looking for an
increase of power and inflncnco in the ma
chinery of this glorious enterprise of the
Church.
Permit mo, just here, to propound a ques
tion, for the serious consideration of all
Hunday-school votaries every whero. Is the
Sunday-school realty as profitable as see think
it is ? With all onr increased facilities, and
brightening prospects, is tho Hunday-school
doiug tho work it is designed to do, and to
the extent we think ? The object of tho
Bunday-sohool is to bring tho children nnder
the influence of the gospel, and to bring
them into tho Church. Now w r e ask is the
Hunday-school doing this ? Is it not mani
fest that in many places the children are be
ginning to look on the Sunday-school as
something ontirely separate from the church,
and in its organization, and maintenance,
designed for their recreation, rather than as
a part of the chnrcb, and instituted, and
kept up os a means of bringing them into
union therewith? Soe how many of our
Hunday-school children make it a regular
practice, especially, in the towns and cities,
to return homo just so soon as tho exercises
of the Hunday-school close. Instead of re
maining at tho chnrcli, to engago in the
worship of God with their parents, and the
church, which wo profess to bo fitting them
for in tho Hunday-school, they go homo to
spend tho remainder of tho day in plays
and games, utterly oblivious of the fact that
it is the Sabbath day, or, that they are the
children of the chnrcli. Is not this the
practice of a majority of tho Hunday-school
scholars in tho towns and cities, where the
Hunday-schools are held in the morning ?
How many sermons do sorno of our most
puuctual and faithful .Hunday-school chil
dren hear through the year? In truth, it.
is alarming to notice liow few of tho Sun
* day-school children attend the preaching
of the word; Yet they are Sunday-school
scholars —members of that institution which
we so proudly assert, is about to revolu
tionize society, and yield qnite a harvest of
faithful souls to the Church. Tho Sunday
school ought to bring the children under
the influence of the gospel, and influence
them to be religious. If it does not do this,
does it do any good whatever ?
Pv. W. D.
The Late Key. E. U. (iage.
When the heart is oppressed by a sudden
bereavement, and we look around in vain,
(or one on whom we fondly leaned for help
and comfort, in onr time of anguish, there
is some danger of over estimating the
treasure which lias been removed from ns,
or of saying more than prudence would war
rant. But we can scarcely- do so, in speak
ing of the loss which this community- has
sustained in the death of our late esteemed
pastor, Rev. £. G. Gage.
Instant in and out of season also, in the
Church, the Snnday-school, and the place at
large, daring the short time in which he
went in and ont among us, ho endeared
himself to all hearts, and when it became
known that God in his Providence had re
moved him from his earthly to his Heavenly
home, all denominational feeling appeared
to be absorbed in the keen senso of the
common loss whioh had befallen the com
munity; for in doing his Master’s will, he
knew no sect, but served readily and cheer
fully every one who asked for, or who need
ed his ministrations. How glorious Ito be
taken right out of the earthly field where
he was labouriug so diligently, up to the
Celestial country, Jerusalem the Golden, where
he reaps the reword of his faithfulness.
For him, there can be no regrets, bnt for
the desolate family, the bereaved churob,
what shall comfort them ?
To the God of all grace we commend
them, praying Him to sustain them by His
grace, and comfort them as He only can com
fort, and may this sad stroke be sanctified
to them and to the Church at large. ** *
GranUeviUe, S. C., June 20, 1870.
From the Baltimore Episcopal Methodist.
Letter from Dr. Bledsoe.
Dr. Poisaii —Dear Sir: Several things
have, of late, appeared in varions periodicals
in relation to The Southern Review and my
self, which have given, rise to no little mis
apprehension on the part of many persons,
and which, it seems to me, should be ex
plained and corrected. The best way to
correct the misapprehensions to,
and which tin set me at every turn, is, per
haps, to give a narrative of all the facts and
circumstances pot of a partial and imperfect
view of which they have arisen.
I have now conducted, as is well known
to a few persons, The Southern Review for
three years and a half, in the. ojty of Balti
more. The editorial department of the
Review, which alone belongs to an editor in
anything like favorable circumstances, has
not only been a labor of love to me, bnt one
of intense delight. Bat the business de
partment, with which no editor should be
troubled, and for which I have no taste, has
boeiLthe source of immense annoyance and
discomfort to me. The supervision of ar
ticßiWfe-they pass tipqpgh the press; the
correction of proofs wfUi eyes already over
tasked with the labor of reading and Writing;
the demands made upon my time by the
dishonesty, or negligence, or the-fail are, and
disappearance, of agents; these, and many
other things too tedious to mention, have
rendered the business department of the
Review an intolerable burden to mo. I re
joice in the literary department; I absolutely
abhor the business department. This has
seemed too much for a brain already suffi
ciently taxed with literary, scientific, and
editorial labors. The conviction has, indeed,
for some time, been forcing itself on my
mind, that I must eitheagetrid of the busi
nees department of the Review, with all its
vexations and troubles, or else abandon the
enterprise itself, as too much for me. But
to abandon the Southern Review would be
like the pang of death to me. Itis the child
of my affections. I have made so many sac
rifices for it; I have bestowed so many tears,
and anxieties, and labors upon it; that I
havo often said fio myselT, in the midst of
my greatest troubles, “No! it shall not be
abandoned! Como what will, the Southern
Smew shall lie sustained!” But, after all,
these “brave words” were only those of a
poor weak creature; and only showed how
great was the pressure of tho necessity on
the one side. Hence I have felt, in my
weakness, that the resolntion could hardly
be carried out, w hile the business department
of the Review continued to press on the
other side, and grind me as between two
mill-stones.
How, then, to get relief from this nether
mill-stone, from this hard and grinding ne
cessity of the business department of the
enterprise? The world lias, in fact, known
little or nothing about its existence. Oth
erwise, perhaps, the friends of the Booth, or
at least some of them, would have afforded
the desired relief by placing the business of
the Review in such hands, and on such a
basis, that tho editor, and other writers for
its pages, might receive at least half pay for
their labors. I have often thought of inukiug
the state of the case known, with an appeal
for such moderate relief; but although I
have found it easy to think of such an appeal,
I have found ibbnpossible to make it.
In making tho above remarks, I wish to
be distinctly understood. Money is not my
object. lam willing to work for the Bouth;
nay, I am willing to be the slavo of the
South, bnt lam not willing to bo worked
to death in sncli servitude, without some
thing liko a reasonable compensation for
my labor. lam not willing to bear all the
burdens of the Southern Review, which is
carried on not for my own benefit, but for
tho great cause of truth, and justice and
mercy. Will not 9ome friend or friends of
the South, then, come to its assistance, and
hold up my poor, feeble Lands, in a contest
with tho mignty? I havo had tho offer of
such assistance from tho far West. Long
have I looked, and longed, and prayed, for
sncli assistance; and, at last, it has seemed
to appear in the great West. But it has ap
peared, and lieen offered, on the condition,
that I would remove the 'Southern Review to
ono of her greatest and most beautiful cities;
and I have entertained serious thoughts in
favor of its acceptance. The chief obstacle
in the way has hitherto been my disinclina
tion to make another removal at my time of
life, and, above all, my extreme reluctance
to quit the city of Baltimore; which, to my
mind, is tho most delightful place of aliode
on the face of the globe.
In ordor to avoid tho necessity of sncli a
reipoval, I determined to try, in the first
place, what could be done for the Review in
Baltimore. With this desigu, I made known
my views to a friend whom I have known
intimately and valued highly for more than
twenty years; and that friond was yonrsclf.
I stated to yon that if I could only get the
whole bittiness department of the Review
taken off my hands, and heart, and brain, I
would devote my timo and energy to its edi
torial department for a small salary. (By
“a small salary,” I meant not more than
half the amount I lmd lieen offered in New
York for loss.than linlf the labor as an editor.)
Hnch, as yon aro aware, is tho proposition I
mado to you; with which you wero much
pleased.
_ Especially in view of the reasons I as
signed in favor of the proposition. In as
signing these reasons, I then said, “.that I
had, for some time, contemplated introduc
ing a thological element into the Southern
Review; and that this additional element
will, I am sure, be agreeable to the Metho
dist denomination. My Theodicy was pub
lished by “tho Methodist Book Concern”
in Now York; and has been read by all yofir
Bishops and Clergy with entire approba
tion; and that will be tho programme of the
theology of tlie Review.. The ney element,
theja, however varied or diversified in its ap
plication to the books and topics of the day,
will always be in accordance with my Theodicy
and the sentiments of the Methodists. Thoy
have already done far more for tho Review
than any other body of Christians, a fact of
which I am deeply sensible and for which I
am profoundly grateful; and this additional
feature will make it still more acceptable to
them.”
I promised, before wo separated, to re
duce this statement to writifcg, and place it
in your hands. Not having the. time to do
so, before your departure for the General
Conference at Memphis, I sent my written
statement to you in a letter directed to that
placo, to mnko such use of ns you might
deem proper. lam profoundly grateful for
the manner in which that letter was received
by the Bishops, and other members of the
General Conference; and also for tho high
opinions they were pleased to express in
favor of the letter, as well as in favor of my
Theodicy and tho Southern Review. It is
only of a piece with the generosity, which
they have always shown to me, and to tho
productions of my pen; ami I have no words
in which to express my gratitude to them,
for their uniform kindness and great gener
osity of sentiment.
I regret that I did not have an opportuni
ty to converse with you in relation to the
action of the General Conference, before
their resolutions in regard to tho Southern
Review were pul dished. 1 regret this, be
cause it would have beon more agreeable to
my feelings to talk the matter over in pri
vate, and come to an understanding as to
the resolutions, without the necessity of
coming before the public on the subject.
' The resolutions do not accept my propo
sition, or grant the relief I so much desired,
that is, they do not take the business de
partment of the Review off my hands. In
making the proposition, I was satisfied, that
with so many agencies for spreading the cir
culation of tho Review, it would have been
profitable to tho Methodist denomination.
As I learn from yon my friends in the Gen
eral Conference believed tho same thing,
and wishod mo to have all tho emoluments
of th a Review, while they promised to do all
in their power to push it into a wider circu
lation. While lam truly grateful for their
kind attentions, I cannot forget, that I
prayed for relief, and not for money; or that
the business department of the Review still
hangs over my head.
By tho first resolution, ono of the terms
proposed to me is, that all party, politics
shall be left out of the Southern Review. I
do not exactly know what this resolution
means. I was not aware, indeed, that there
ever had been, in the proper sense of the
word, any party politics in the Review. No
one, I suppose," has ever suspectod me of
being a radical; and as to the old ante
bellum parties—the Whigs and Democrats—
I do not belong to cither; and os long as I
do live, I hope to belong to the living, and
not to the dead. In the course of a long
life, I have studied political philosophy a
good deal, in all the great masters from Aris
totle down to, Montesquieu, and my own
views are very decided; especially in regard
to the political justice of the great struggle
between the North and the Sontb. If, by
party politics, is meant the sectional poli
tics of the country, I admit the Review is
alive with them; and I cannot consent to
remain silent, while I see, as IMi eve I
do, the cause of innocence, and justice, and
troth, trampled under foot by the mighty
and tiie unscrupulous, who still pnrsue their
vanquished foes with a mean and unmanly
vengeance. The asperity of feeling occa
sioned by the war has, it is true, been great
ly softened down, in my mind, by the mel
lowing influence of time, and by the kind
ness shown me by many of our late enemies;
bnt my prinmples are the same, as unchang
ed and as unchangeable as the son. Ido
not suppose, for a moment, that the authors
of the resolution in question, either expect
ed or wished that I should change” any of
my opinions in regard to the merits of the
late war; but if they did not mean that I
should, at least,, henceforth remain silent in
regard to them, I cannot soe any occasion
for the resolution itself. And .yet I can
hardly believe that this was their meaning,
so utterly inconsistent does it seem with
their well-known sentiments and practice.
Isuspect, indeed, that the object and de
sign of the resolution, is as yet, hnknown
to me. At all events, I cannot consent to
aeoept any terms, or to come under any ob
ligation, whioh may even seem, in the eyas
of the world, inconsistent with a free, full,
and perfect utteranee'nf soul in regard to
the late war. I had no desire to
speak, sneh a self-imposed or voluntary ob
ligation, would be irksome to me, not to say
intolerable; at least while the batteries of
the North are continually belching forth
their flames against the South. If, how
ever, it he the will of the Methodist Epis
copal Church, South, that all questions of
sectional Controversy should be dropped, I
am prepared to co-operate most heartily
with them in such desire, provided the
Methodist Episcopal Church, North, will do
the same. If they will agree to spike then
guns, or turn- them away from the South,
we should hail the event as the anspicous
dawn of a bettor era for “tho land we love.”
The second resolution stipulates, that the
Southern Review shall advocate the doctrines
of tho Methodist Episcopal Church, South.
This condition was, in fact, virtually the
basis of my preposition to the General Con
ference. For nearly thirty years, the doc
trines of tho Methodist Episcopal Clmrch
havo appeared to mo much nearer tho truth,
than those of any other denomination un
der the sun; an advantage which it pos
sesses, perhaps, because it was organized
two centuries later than the others. During
these centnries, tho Christian world had
outgrown many of its most serions errors,
and John Wcsloy profited by its advanced
and improved condition. Hence, tho very
Articles of tlio Church of England, and of
the Protestant Episcopal Church of this
country, which are no longer tenable, and
which most of its very ministers have long
sinoe ceased to believe, are not to be found
in the creed of his followers. That creed
is, in my opinion, a revised and corrected
edition of tho “XXXIX. Articles.” Indeed,
after long and careful study, I had rejected
from my own. mind the XVIL Article, and
oortain parts of the IX. Article, before I
knew that they formed no portion of the
creed of tho Methodists. Greatly did I re
joice, then, and do still rejoice, that there
is so large a body of Christian men in the
world as the Episcopal Methodists, with
whom I can, and do, so nearly agree in re
gard to the doctrines of the Christian reli
gion. Otherwise I could not possibly advo
cate them; for I can advocate nothing, ab
solutely nothing, unless it appears to me to
bo the truth.
Tho fourth resolntion, (the third requires
no further allusion,) stipulates so
acceptance by Dr. Bledsoe of an Editorial
Committee, to bo appointed by tho College
of Bishops, and to be associated with him
in conducting tho Theological Department."
I should most assuredly have rejected this
proposition, if I had not known who were
tho persons to servo on the Committee. Bat
tho gentlemen appointed aro Bishop Doggett,
Prof. F. H. Smith, of the University of Vir
ginia, and the Rev. A. W. Wilson. No gen
tlemen could be named, who would be more
perfectly agreeable to tho Editor of the
Southern Review. For more than twenty
years, I have known Bishop Doggett as a
high-toned gentleman, and nn accomplished
scholar, and as a most agreeable companion.
I should be proud to bo associated with
him in any relation of life. As for Professor
Hmith, so many years one of my colleagues
in the University of Virginia, I havo long
known him as a man of genius, as an able,
as a profound mathematician, and a fine
classical scholar. In every department of
physical science, ho is, indeed, the most
boautiful and instructive lecturer 1 have
over listened to, ns well as in social life one
of the most genial and delightful compan
ions I havo ever known. I havo not tho
honor of a personal acquaintance with Dr.
Wilson; but, from all accounts, he wonld be
equal to either of the former gentlemen as a
member of such a Committee. I do then
most cheerfully and cordially accept the co
operation of tho Committee composed of
such gentlemen; for although tho theological
department of tlio Review, as well as every
other, should, perhaps, bo nnder tlio super
vision and control of ono mind, yet it is bet
tor, it seems to mo, that it should be nnder
tho supervision and control of several snoh
minds acting as one... I have «.*> »prux\Ueu
sion, indeed, of tho least disturbance to the
unity or efficiency of the department in
qnostion, from the co-operation of such a
Committee. My only fear is, on tlie con
trary, that its inemtiers will have too little
to do with the management of this new,and
most important, department of the-iSou/Aei-a
Review, leaving its labors and responsibili
ties to rest too exclusively upon myself.
It was my earnestly expressed desire, as
yon will remember, that my intention to
make an addition to the programme of the
Review, should not be made public, till the
fact could be published, and fully explained
by myself; because I knew that false infer
ences would bo drawn from imperfect in
formation. I was not mistaken. Weak and
malignant persons have seen a hundred
things behind the scenes, which havo never
had tho least existence in reality, and have
indulged in a hundred assertions and dark
insinuations, which have never had the
shadow of a foundation in truth; and hence
tho disagreeable necessity of this long lette r.
It was ho part of my intention, as you
were perfectly aware, to make any change
iu tho features of the Southern Review before
the beginning of 1871. Any change, or
rather any addition, before that time would
have been-a fraud oh tho present subscribers
to tho Review, -whose rights and feelings are
entitled to my most profound consideration.
In the October number or tho Review, I will
stato, and fully oxplaiu, tho precise nature -
of the change, or rather the addition, to be
made therein, in order that ovety subscriber
may act with his eyes open. This, as you'
well know, was my intention from the first,
and without the least reference to the sup
port of the Review by tho Members of your
denomination, and it is my intention now.
I only beg my personal friends, and the
friends of the Southern Revieto, to wait and
see what I intend to do, before they make
np their minds or pronounce their judgments.
Allow me to say, in Conclusion, that I re
gret tlie publication of the resolutions of the
General Conference. If I had known that
you intended to publish them, I should have
protested against the step as bringing a mat
ter before the public winch, at present, does
not concern it, and which might as it seems
to mo, have been far better settled by pri
vate consultation. But while I regret this,
not one particle of ill-will, or hard feelings
has been engendered in my mind by any
part of the transactions. Though I have
failed to obtain tho relief sought for, and so
earnestly desired, I shall nevertheless adhere
to my original determination to introduce a
theological element into tho Southern Review.
I 'am precisely where I was before I applied
for relief, in thought, in feeling and iu will,
as well as in gratitude to my numerous
friends of the Methodist Church. Very
respectfully, yonr friend and hrotlier,
Baltimore, June 17. A. T.
From the Sunday Magazine.
Tlie Woman of Canaan.
As the record of tho devotion of a mother
to her daughter—a devotion quickening in
her a faith so rare and lovely as to delight
the very heart of Jesns with its bumble in
tensity—this is one of the mast beautiful of
all the stories of healing.
The woman was a Greek, and had not bad
the training of the Jew for a belief, in the
Messiah. Her misconceptions concerning
tbs healer of whom she had heard mast have
been full of fancies derived from the legends
of her race. But she had yet been trained
to believe, for her mighty love of her own
child was the best power for the development
of the child-like in herself.
No woman can understand the possible
depths of her own affection for her daughter.
Ijsay daughter not child, liecause, although
-love is the same everywhere, it is nowhere
the same. No two loves of individuals in
the same correlation are the same. Much
more the love of a woman for her daughter
differs from the love of a father for his son—
differs as the woman differs from the man.
There is in it a peculiar tenderness from a
sense of the same womanly consciousness in
both of undefended and self accountable
modesty—a modesty, in this case, how ter
ribly tortured in the mother by the wild be
havior, of the daughter under the impulses of
the unclean spirit! Suroly if ever there was
a misery to (hive the woman to the Healer
in an agony of rightful claim and prostrate
entreaty, it was the misery of amother whose
daughter was tints possessed. The divine
nature of her motherhood, of her woman
hood, drew her back to its source to find
kelp for one who shared in the same, bnt in
whom its waters were sorely troubled and
grievously defiled.
She came crying to him. About him stood
PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & CO., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH.
MACON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 8, 1870.
his disciples proud of being Jews. For their
Rakes this chosen Gentile must be pained a
little further, must bear with her Saviour
her part of suffering for the redemption even
of his chosen apostles. They counted them
selves the children, and such as she the dogs.
Ho must show them the divine nature dwell
ing in her. For the sake of this revelation
lie mnst try her sorely, bnt not for long.
“Havo mercy on me,” she cried, “O
Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is
grievously vexed with a devil.”
But not a word of reply came from the
lips of the healer. His disciples must speak
first. They must supplicate for their Gen
tile sister. ' Ho would arouse jn them the
disapproval of their own exclusiveness, by
putting it on for a moment that they might
see it apart from themselves.
Their hearts were moved fpr the woman.
“ Send her away,” they said, meaning,
“ Give her what she wants; bnt to move the
heart of love to grant the prayer, they—poor
intercessors —added a selfish reason to justify
the deed of goodness, either that they wonld
avoid being supposed to acknowledge her
claim on a level with that of a Jewess, and
would make of it what both Puritans and
priests would call ‘ ‘ an nneovenanted mercy, ”
or that they they actually thought it would
help to overcome tlio scruples of the Master.
Possibly it was both. “ She crieth after ns.”
they said, meaning, “ She is troublesome.”
They would have him give as the ungener
ous and tho unjust givo to tho importunate.
But no healing could be granted on such a
ground—not even to the prayer of an apostle.
The woman herself must givo a better. ~
“I am not sent,” ho said “bnt unto the
lost sheep of tho house of Israel.”
They understood tho words falsely. We
know that ho did not come for tho Gentiles,
and ho was training them to sco what they
were so slow to understand, that he had
other sheep which were not of this fold. He
had need to begin with them thus early.
Most of tlio troubles of his latest,. perhaps
greatest apostle, eame from the indignation
of Jewish Christians that ho preached the
good news to tho Gentiles as if it had been
originally meant for them. They wonld
havo had them enter into its privileges by
tho gates of Judaism.
Wliat they did at length understand by
these words is expressed hi the additional
word of our Lord given Ixy St. Mark: “Let
the children first bo filled.” Bnt even this
they could not understand until afterwards.
They could not see that it was for the sake
of tho Gentiles as muck as the Jews, as Jesus
camo to tlio Jews first. For whatever glo
rious. exceptions tkero wero amongst the
Gentiles, surpassing oven similar amongst
the Jews, and whatever tho widespread re
fusal of the Jewish nation, he could not have
been received amongst the Gentiles as among
the Jews. In Judea alone could the leaven
work; tlicro alone could tho mustard seed
take fitting root. Once rooted and up, it
would become a great tree, and tho birds of
the world would nestle in its branches. It
was not that God loved the Jews more than
the Gentiles that ho chose them first, bnt
that he must begin somewhere; why, God
himself knows, and perhaps has given ns
glimmerings.
Upheld by her God-given love, not yet
would the womorf-tum away. Even sncli
hard words as these could not repnlso he*.
She camo now and fell at his feet, - It is
as the Master would havo it: she presses
only tho nearer, sho insists only the more;
for the dovil has a hold of her daughter.
“ Lord, heljj me,” is lierciy; for the tron
blo of her daughter is her own. The “Help
me,” is far moro profound and patliotic than
the inost vivid blazon of tlio daughter’s suf
ferings.
But he answered and said, —
“It is not meet to take the children's
bj»«l, ami to east it to dogs.”
Terrible words! more dreadful far than
any lie ever spoke Resides! Surely now she
npT mean in .them to speakto lAtodcon
eerning the relation of a Jew and a Gentile;
for not only do tlio future of his church and
“he teachings of his Spirit Contradict it, bnt
if ho did mean what ho said, then he acted
.as was unmeet,for he did east a child’s bread
to a dog. No. He spoke as a Jew felt,that
the elect Jews about him might begin to
understand that in him is neither Jew nor
Gentile, but all ore brethren..
And ho has gained his point. Tho spirit
in the woman has been divinely goaded into
utterance, mid out come the glorions words
of her love and faith, casting aside even in
sult itself as it had never been—all for the
sake of a daughter. Now, indeed, it ia as ho
would have it.
‘ ‘ Yes, Lord; yet the - dogs under the table
e*t of tlie children’s erftmbs. ”
■as it; . *•
e dogs eat of the
leir master’s table. ”
a its readiness, its
But it was notrthe
-newer that pleased
s cheap, It is the
ran precious as rare,
m when it shall'bo
tho universe, but
fruits of « world
redeemed- -precious now as coming from the
lips of a human mother pleading for her
daughter-
O woman, great is thy faith; be it unto
thee even a»thou wilt.”
tNvks Bt. Marie gives it, for tire cannot
iiflbrd to lose a varying word, •
“For this saying, go thy way; the devil
is gone ont of thy daughter.”
The loving mother has conquered the tor
men tin# deviL She lias called in the mighty
aid of the original love. 'Through the chan
nel of licr love it fiows, new-creating, “and
her daughter was made whole from that
hour.”
Where, O. disciples, are your children and
your dogs now?. Is not the wall of parti
tion henceforth destroyed? No, yon too
have to be made whole of ti worse ‘devil, that
of a personal and national pride, before you
understand. But the day of the Lord is
coming for you, notwithstanding ye are so
incapablo of knowing the signs and signals
of its approach that, although its banners
are spread across the flaming sky, it must
come upon you as a thief in the night.
For tho woman, wo may well leave her to
the embraces pf her daughter. They are
enough for her now. But endless more wH
follow, for God is exhaustless in giving
where the human receiviug holds out. (sod
be praised that there are such embraces in
the world! that ‘there are mothers who are
tho salvation of their children!
*Ftir more precious than any show of the intel
lect, even in regard of the intellect itself. The
quickness of her answer was the scintillation of
her intellect under the glow of her affection. Love
is the quickening nurse of the whole nature. Faith
in God will do more fortlie intcllectat length Uian
all the training of the schools. It will make the
best that can be made of the whole man.
Talleyrand’s Death-Bed.
For nearly half a century, this veteran
diplomatist acted a prominent part in the
affairs of Europe. As the prime-minister or
ambassador of the Directory, the Consulate,
the_ Empire and the monarchy of Louis
Philippe, he negotiated the important trea
ties which determined the boundaries of
empires add the fate of kingdoms, and formed
plans which made Napoleon an emperor,
and the emperor an exile. Such a man’s
view of an eventful life of fonr-score years
furnishes instructive lessons to tnen who are
wasting the energies of being on political
ambition or worldly aggrandisement. Just
before bis death a paper was found on his
table on which be had written, by the light
of the lamp, such lines as these;
“ Behold, eighty-three years.passed away! ‘
What cares! What agitation! What anxie
ties! What ill-will! What sad complica
tions! And all withont results, except great
fatigue of mind and body, and.a profound
sentiment of discouragement with regard to
the future, and disgust with regard to the
past!”
Contrast with the exclamation of “ Paul
the Aged, ” as he was abontdosing his earthly
career:
“ I havo fought a good fight;-1 have kept
the faith; and henceforth there is laid np
for mo a crown of righteousness, which the
Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at
that day.” '
A death-bed is the triumphant-chariot of
the useful Christian, however hnmble; it is
the executioner’s cart of the worldly unbe
liever, however exalted.
Mala Talk el an Indian.
! For several weeks the press of Washing
ton city havo been giving statements of tho
the acts and words, of a delega
tion of Indians now on a mission of peace
to the United States Government. Red
Cloud, the Head Chief of the Sioux na
tions, is the chief of the delegation. The
last talk was on the 10th inst., when Red
Cloud presented a list of the grievances of
his people.. Other chiefs also recited cases
of oppressions of tjie Government, and the
impositions and frauds of its agents.
Red Cloud, Red Dog, Spotted Tail, Con
quering Bear, Bravo Bear, etc., are among
the euphoneous and expressive names of
these Indian bravos. They talk “with open
i louth,” using “great plainness of speech. ”
a imong the characteristic speeches of the
1 1st talk, that of Bravo Bear has a signifi
cance of simplicity and truthfulness that
spows ho has found the weak side of Auieri
qan character. It “points a moral;” and
i Jay serve to “adorn a tale."
; Brave Bear then came forward and sat
4°wn to speak, saying:
I am 75 years of ago. I am old. When the
flreat Father creatod us, the white and the red
men were all brethren, and we lived so; bnt now
a e are not. We are melting away; and the whites
Who are increasing so fust and are great, aro trying
to crash us and leave us no hope. The Great
Spirit is looking upon them, and may hereafter
make them give an account of tlioir misdeeds,
k'he Great Spirit told me when a chief, if yon get
strong and become rich, you cannot take your
riches with you when you die. He must have told
a different thing to tho white man, who is so grasp
ing, and who piles up money. He mnst have told
them when you die you can tako all into the next
world.
Bo it an Indian that speaks ; yet ho speaks
‘ ‘the words of truth and soberness. ’ ’ Civili
zed age, and Christian wisdom could not
speak 1 Hitter, or moro wisely. “One event
buppefleth alike to nil,” to the savago and
the saint. All go down into dust; and each
leaves all of life’s gains behind him. Death
is reckless of the distinctions and discrimi
nations of wealth. The savago to his hunt
ing grounds in tho spirit-world : tho saint
to his soul’s home in tlio heavenly land; the
sinner to his fancied rest in the next world,
carries no portion of his worldly wealth with
him. “Naked he came into this world: and
naked lie must go out of it.” Observation,
reflection, conscience— the voices of the
(•rent Spirit—teach tho painted savage and
the educated sinner, the same lesson that
the Word of Truth preaches “to them that
believe.” Whether in pretence or in ear
nestness there is a terrible and cutting sar
casm in the Indian’s words. Truth’and
common sense aro in what “the Great
Spirit” told Bravo Bear. “Ho mnst have
told a different thing to tlio white man, who
isrso grasping, nnd who piles np money.
Ho mnst have told them when you die yon
can tako all into tho next world. So it
seems to tho Indian, judging from “the
white man’s” inordinate grasping after
wealth. Money is tho white man’s god;
bis chief good, the one thing needfnl. Even
Christian men embrace the infatuation,
“bile up money” and crave riches as a fam
ishing jnau craves food. jDevoutly as ho
raay read the Bible, ho has no relish for and
does not regard its denunciations of tho
“love of money.” His gold will never rust:
his riches will never bo moth-eaten.” Mercy
will find cxonscs for him; and justice make
exceptions in his favor. What, though
widows weep and orphans hunger: what
though ministers suffer and churches lan-
Eh, and both labor in vain, and find no
t in playing, and no help in tho solemn
lay service; vfhat, if the heathen perish
a**'of knowledge, and all tho ways of
San mourn, her hands hang down, and her
ees 1)0 feeblo; Wliat bf all these things to
tile religious' Mammonist ? His eye does
not see : his heart does not pity : his hands
do hot give. If Ms fait ißu us voice, of mani
festation in Ws conduct, ‘“the Great Spirit
has told liinrwben ho dies ho shall carry all
h* riehoa toto the-mexti-worldi’’ Ho will so
much there that liar must be very
carful in hoarding it here! IDs believes living
in tlie next world to be very expensive, and
to meet its doinands he may need a pile of
money ! He certainly docs not believe wliat
God has told him concerning tho curse of
covetousness and the'erimo of selfishness.
In works ho denies the Great Spirit that, in
the Bible, snoaketh from heaven ! His creed
is brief, clear, emphatic : “I believe iu
money 1 I labor to make money ; live to
save money : gold, silver, greenbacks : soul!
these ate thy gods ; in them is all thy salva
tion, all thy delight! Blessed is tho man
whose pockets are full of them !”
“Thou fool, this uight thy soul shall be
required of thee : then whose shall those
things be, which thou hast provided ?”
RiciShond Christian Advocate.
IjgjambliHg in Churcla Fairs.
“Shore is no manner of question that tho
prayuco of taking chances for any costly
article is simply and purely illegal. That is
enough to condemn it, even if otherwise
innaocnt. Bnt this gambling is made illegal
because of the beat reasons, viz : that it is
immoral. It is often argued that people
who have small sums to give prefer to give
it in that way, because they exjiect to receive
nothing iu return. This is a specious argu
ment. They pay for a dollar or a half-dol
lar’s worth of gambling excitement, tho
worst thing they could purchase, and they
expect to get what they pay for. Now gam
bliug is like no other vice in its influence.
It is like arsenic eating, in that it maybe
indulged in up to a certain point without
apparent harm, and suddenly at once be
comes irresisistible and fatal. Men may bo
moderate gamblers, bnt they never can tell
when they will cease to be. Once let a man
win largely or lose more than ho can afford
and he is in a vortex. Now we know that
these fair lotteries, rallies, and the like, have
this consequence. They kindle the desire
for gambling. A young man wins once or
twice a costly article and begins to have a
superstition about his ‘luck.’ That will
tempt him to other ventures in other places.
And it makes the young feel that there is no
harm in such things.
“We say advisedly that there is no safety
in tampering in the slightest degree with
such hazards. Our people are but too in
dined to this evil, and far too much of busi
ness is carried on upon gambling principles
already. Again there is an inherent wrong
in the very essence of the thing. It i* get
ting an article, no matter what, which one
desires, for far less than its worth. No one
is the better and hardly-any man but is the
for this. It is demoralizing."—Church
man..' '
There is no possible answer to this reason
ing. Yet thousands of Christian women
and some ministers of the Gospel will pur
sue the vice without scrnple. It is one of
the strange inconsistencies of human nature,
inexplicable and lamentable.
Pulpit Prodigies.
There is much good sense in the following
remarks by Theodore Oayler: Now let me
say plainly that for one I grow more dis
trustful every day of these pulpit prodigies,
anil of Ibo spirit that lnsts after them. No
man can lie a “power” in the pulpit unless
he possesses a good brain, a godly heart, a
deep knowledge of the Biblo and the human
heart, and a glowing love of souls. And the
very qualities which a minister of Christ will
be most likely to aim at will be simplicity
of speech, and spiritual unction from the
Holy One, and a rigid conformity in his
every utterance to the inspired word of God.
He will endeavor to speak not in the words
which man’s Wisdom teacheth. When ho is
called to enconntier what Brother Balkley
calls a “ rationalistic and philosophic” audi
tor, he will be likely to rely on the tremen
' dous enginery of the truth of God as it is
Vevealeil in the inspired Word. Instead of
meeting the intellectual skeptic as a skeptic,
he will meet him as a guilty, perishing sin
ner; lie Will .present to him his own heart,
his own need of a Saviour, and the perfect
adaptation of the Divino Saviour to meet
his soul’s necessities. Nothing suits a ca
villing skeptic lietter than to entice an am
bassador of Christ off into the slippery
regions of human metaphysics; on that
ground the rationalist is at home. A minis
ter of Christ is only at home when his feet
are planted firmly on the Bock of Ages, and
ho is wielding vigorously the sword of the
Spirit which isihe Word of God.
Shut -thy Door.—l. —l feel all that I know
and all that I teach will do nothing for my
soul if I spend my time, as some people do,
in bnsiness or company. My sonl starves
to death in the best company, and God is
oiten lost in prayers and ordinances. “En
ter into thy closet,” said ho, and “ shut thy
door.” . Some words in scripture aro very
cmphaticaL “ Shut thy door,” means mnch:
it means, shut out, not only nonsense but
business; not only the company abroad but
tho company at home: it means, let thy
poor soul have a little rest and refreshment,
and God have opportunity to speak to thee
in a still small voice, or he will speak to thee
in thunder.— Cecil.
Christian Union.
The following froqi tlio Christian Union
is an outliue of a sermon from John xvii.
21—“ That they all may be one ;as thou,
Father, ai t in me, and lin thee, that they
also may be one in us; that tho world may
believo that thou hast sent me.”
1. Christian union does not consist in
unity of church organization. Such unity
is claimed by tho adherents of the Papacy;
but wo do not admit that they exhibit the
unity for which Christ prayed. Mere out
ward form of union does not make “union
of heart.”
2. Nor in moro union of doctrines and
mode of administering ordinances.
3. Nor in tho same methods of explain
ing oven fundamental truths. Persons who
ardently love the same Gospel truths may
adopt vory different ways of stating and il
lustrating them.
i. Christian union must not bo so regard
ed as to hinder Christians from thoroughly
comparing their viows on those themes on
which they differ. That union is not worth
anything which will not welcome a frank
avowal of difference of opinion.
5. Christian union should not bo so re
garded as to restrain ministers of the gospel
from discussing whatever themes they please,
and freely expressing themselves as they
think proper. That view of Christian union
would be a curse to tho world that should
embarrass tho scope of pulpit themes and
freedom of utterances.
The union of Christians embraces these
principles, namely:
1. Those who are near to Christ aro near
to one another.
2. We must reeeivo those whom Christ
receives.
3. Persons who love Christ aro therefore
members of His Church. Their reception
into any local church does not constitute
them members in the Church of Christ—the
truly Catholic Church. If ono alone, in the
silence of midnight, yields his heart to
Christ, at that moment he commences his
membership in Christ’s Church.
4. The manifestation of Christi an charac
ter, by the life, should b e lite test of Cliristian
fellowship.
5. We should not attempt to sustain a re
pulsive difference between Christian fel
lowship and Church fellowship.
G. Oneness of spirit in our efforts to ad
vance tho cause of Christ, must make known
to tho world onr Christian union.
Conclusion.—Wo rejoice in the glorious
result, “That tho world may believe thou
host sent me. ’’
The union which Christians now exhibit
makes a powerful appeal to the unconvert
ed Wo expect that that blessed union will
bo more and more apparent, and increas
ingly effective.
Two Voting Men’s Colloquy.
!‘Cqme, Sam, lot’s gq in and take a little.
Old Bob Bummer keeps tho best liquor in
town. Come, don’t hang back; let’s go in.”
“Jim, I have been thinking this matter
over since I sa,w yon last, and I can't do it.
To bo plain with you, Jim, I have given my
heart to the Lord Jesus, and you will never
see me drink again. Besides, I-have been
figuring on this matter some, and wßlttrdo
“Well, a dollar or two a week, I suppose,”
said Jim. <
Sain, taking a pencil aud a piece of paper
from his pOeket-book, handed them to Jim,
and said, “Lot ns look at it fully, and mnko
a fair calculation* You deposit—
“ Your money—and lose it.
“Your time—and lose it.
“Your character —and lose it.
“Y#ur health of body—and lose it.
“Yonr strength of mind—and lose it.
“Your manly independence— and lose it.
“Your self-respect—and lose it.
“Your senso of right and wrong—and
lose it.
“Your self-control—and lose it.
“Yonr home comfort—and lose it.
“Yonr wife’s happiness—and lose it.
“Your children’s rights—and lose them.
“Your country’s honor—and lose it.
“Your own so’nl—and lose it.”
“Sam, I’ll take the pledge for life on that.
Come, let’s go up to tho Young Men’s
Christian Association Rooms and sign the
pledge together.”
Is it not just as true of gambling as of
rum, that they destroy every thing before
them ? Are they >u>t twin crimes i~Ameri
<xm Messenger.
*-*r*->s
Clii'ysostoin’s Eloquence.
The following burst of eloquence .from
Chrysostom, when lie was sentenced to ban
ishment, is a good specimen of the style of
this “silver-tongued preacher;” “Wliat can
I fear ? Willit.be death? But you know
that Christ is my life, and that I shall gain
by death. Will it lie exilo ? Bnt the earth
and all its fullness is the Lord’s. Will it be
the loss of wealth ? Bnt wo brought noth
ing into the world, and can carry nothing
out. Thus all the terrors of tho world are
eontcniptible-iu my eyes, and I smile at all
its good things. Poverty Ido not shrink
from, and life I do not desire, save only for
the progress of your sonls. But yon know,
my friends, tho true cause of my fall. It is
that I have not lined my house with rich
tapestry. . It is that I have not clothed mo
in robes of silk. It is tliat I have not flat
tered the effeminacy and sensuality of cer
tain men, nor laid gold and silver at their
feet. But why need I say more ? Jezebel
is raising her persecution, and Elias must
fly. Herodias is taking' her pleasure, and
John must be bound in chains;'the Egyptian
wife tells her lie, and Joseph must lie thrust
into prison. And so if they banish me I
shall be like Elias; if they throw me into
the mire, like Jeremiah; if they plunge mo
into the sea, like the prophet Jonah;*if into
the pit, like Daniel; if they stone me, it is
Stephen that I shall resemble; John the fore
runner,: if they cut off my head; Paul, if they
beat mo with stripes; Isaiah, if they saw me
asunder.”
An Insane Man’s Stable. —Frederick May,
E|q., of Medford, Mass., a partially insane
man, wants to build a SIO,OOO stable for his
liorse, and through his counsel, asked per
mission to do so of the Probate Court. Tho
petition was opposed by the lieirs-at-law and
next of kin, as being a prodigal and unjus
tifiable expenditure, not called for by tho
necessities of the ward. On the other
hand, it was argued that the heirs were
outside parties to the case, and that the pe
titioner had a right to build the stablo if it
ministered to his happiness and wnnts. And
so the Court held.
The way they do it in Newfoundland.—
A correspondent of the Provincial Wesleyan,
speaking of missionary contributions, says :
“Many of our people give a dollar for every
child in the. family, and ‘a fresh wrival’ is a
sure indication of another dollar being given
at tho onsuing missionary meeting. Nay,
some of onr people have said that this is the
coprse they ever intend to pnrsno. Don’t
yon think that it would he well on the part
of tho other families of Methodists in
British North Amorica, nay in tho whole
world, to Go and do likewise. ”
M. Lamijnnais is reported to have uttered
the following weighty words just before his
death; “There is nothing frnitfnl bnt sacri
fice. Some will say this is a hard saying;
who can hear it? Yet tho fact remains that
for eighteen hundred years during which
Ghristains have professed to believe in the
oross, nothing' really elevated, lveautiful or
good, has been done upon the earth except
at the cost of suffering and self-abnegation.”
- .
The promises of God nefcdy fail when the
conditions on which thejSfre made to de
pend are perseveringly pap&rmed.— Watson.
Mlwtellaitj.
Printing in the Chinese Language.
Ono of the editors of tho IV. Y. Observer
is making the tour of the world. Here is a
brief sketch from Shanghai, which shows
some of the difficulties of book-making in
China:
One of the first places that I visited on
reaching Shanghai, was the Mission Press
of the Presbyterian Church of the United
States—a wisely founded institution, which
has been doing' a great work. It is the most
extensive printing establishment in China,
and has beon sending its light into Japan as
well. The groat work of Dr. Hepburn of
Yokolioma—his quarto Japanese Dictionary
—was printod at this Press; and during the
last year, tho third oditiou, 2, 400 copies, of
another Japanese Dictionary, the first two
editions of which was printed at Yoddo, lias
been printed. It is a typo foundry as well
as a printing house, anil, with judicious and
liberal management, it may be made an im
portant engine for good in time to como as
it has beeu in the past. During tho year
1808, 25,000,000 pages .were printed at this
Press, and in the present year tho whole of
tho New Testament and of Pilgrim’s Progress
lias been admirably electrotyped. I have
before mo a copy of the Pilgrim’s Progress
in Cliinoso, illustrated with engravings
drawn and excented here, and also a copy
of the “ Peep of Day ” in Chinese, from tne
same Press.
On entering this oxtensivo printing estab
lishment, I was confronted with a sories of
amphitheatres, in tho interior of each of
which stood a compositor; and I saw at a
glance tho immensity of tho work which
every one who learns to read or speak or
print tho Cliineso language, has to encoun
ter. Each one of these amphitheatres was
what printers call a ease, containing, not 26
letters as in English printing offices, but
more than 6,000 different characters of types,
and, with tho combinations that aro made,
■more than 13,000. I do not much wonder
that the Chinese adhere to their old method
of engraving everything on wpod that they
print, for I should bo very loth to attempt
to liftntnp many letters or'words out of tho
6,000 boxes that I saw before me. And yet
this mode of printing is a great improve
ment on the old.
Sowing Not in Vain.
Henry Ward Beecher has the following on
the subject of sowing when there seems no
prospect of reaping any profit in return.
He says :
A mother has, perhaps, the hardest lot of
anybody. Her life is one perpetual empty
ing of herself of her own convenience in
behalf of her little child, that Sir many
years can return nothing, and can never
make any adequate return; for her care of
it. There is no other instance of such
spontaneous and thorough emptying of
one’s own nature for another that we know
of in this life. And yet no mother worthy
of the naino ever gave herself thoroughly
for lior child who did not feel that, aftqr ali,
she reaped what sho had sown. No person
was over called to suffer for a principle, and
suffered manfully, that he was not himself
oonscious that he was a victor. When yonr
mono is oast out, and trodden under feet of
men; when you are counted as tho offscour
ing of tho earth for faitlifukiess to duty, do
you not experience a peculiar joy ? Can
you not, then understand what tho apostle
intent when he said, “My brethren, count
it all joy when you fall into divers tempta
tions ?”
Making Felix Tremble.—Wliat ono groat
aim of a-sermon should be, is well illustrat
ed by tho following. A student at Prince-
ton having preached a sermon -for purposes
of criticism, before the members of the
Seminary, on PanPs sermon -before Felix,
with tho text; ‘.‘Felix trembled,” giving
what he supposed to have been 'Haul's dis
course, Professor Alexander
was hard to say, in a given case, how much
wo had preserved to us of an apostolic ser
mon. Kometimes only tlie subjeot w-as re
corded. At other times, it seemed an epi
toino was given. There were eases iu which
wo had the introduction and conclusion,
and other cases iu which wo had the main
discussion. This was a case where the main
topics wefe merely suggested. We knew
nothing of tho exordium or the peroration,
and conld only guess at the argument. He
did not believe that anybody could preach
the sermon that Paul delivered before Felix.
But of one thing lie felt sure, and that was,
that the young brother had not preached
Paul’s sermon in the oratory that night; for
if Paul, on the occasion referred to, had
preached tho sermon they hnd just heard,
Felix never would have trembled /”
> <
We need never say, I have no power to
bless. Neither has the bruised reed, but,
as it lies close by the river-brink, the stream
may flow through it to thirsty lips. It could
not be a reservoir, but it may lie a channel
—of fulness which never fails. Rut let ns
remember that we can only bless in being
blessed—can give only in measure as we re
ceive. Wo know this; do we live out of the
knowledge ? Are we thns receiving from
Jesus himself, the Fountain of Life? Have
wq learned wliat it is to go to him, empty,
helpless, nothing—with ohly ono cry of want
and longing: “Mine eyes are unto Thee, O
God tho Lord?” And, learning this, have
we learned yet more—what it is to have his
fullness so opened to us, both for ourselves
and others, that wo have nothing to do but
point to it as we say—self out of sight—“He
satinfieth ?” Then wo are blessings, though
wo know it not.
Nonplussed. —A young lady met iu com
pany a young gentleman who evidently had
an excellent opinion of himself. During
conversation he introduced the subject of
matrimony, and expatiated at length upon
t e kind of a wife lie expected to marry,
that is, if ever he should take the decisive
steji. The honored lady must bo wealthy,
beautiful, accomplished, amiable, etc., etc.
His listener quietly waited until he ended,
and then asked coolly, “And pray, sir, what
have you to offer in return for all'this?” The
young man stammered, reddened a little and
walked away.
Tub Inactive a Doubting Christain.— We
cannot give the philosophy 'of it, "hut this is
the fact—Christians who liave nothing to
do bnt to sit thinking of themselves, medi
tating,sentimentalizing, (or mysticising,) are
almost sure to become the prey of dark, black
misgivings. John, struggling in tho desert,
needs no proof that Jesus is the Christ.
John, shut up, becomes morbid and doubt
ful immediately. The history of a human
soul is marvellous. We are mysteries; bnt
here is the mystery of it all—for sadness, for
suffering, for misgiving, there is no remedy
but stirring- and doing.— Robertson.
Rejoice in God. Dry np tlioso tears.
Cast away that downcast look. Child of the
dust, you are an heir of glory. There is a
crown all burnished for you; there is a white
robe prepared for you; there is eternal glory
for you; angels are to he your servants, and
yon are to reign with the King of kings for
ever. But while you wait ou earth bo wit
nesses for God: attest the glory of your
Master; rise in the greatness of his strength;
hind sin captive to your chariot-wheels; go
onward in your heavenly career.
The Faults of Men. —A white garment
appears worse with slight soiling than do
colored garments when much soiled; so a
little fault in a good man attracts more at
tention than great offences in had men.
St. John takes notice of no other motive
to the love of God, than our indispensable
obligation to he grateful to so good a friend.
“We love him because lie first loved us.”—
A Contrite Heart.
The slender returns of gratitude we make
are many times a formal ceremony; a preface
to usher in petitions for what we want,
rather than thankfulness for wliat we have
received. —SeougaL
The Nebraska Conference resolved that
“no map is fit for any official position in our
Church who refuses to subscribe for, and
diligently read, onr Church-papers.”
Without the Spirit Si Peter trembled at
the voice of a maid-servant; with the Spirit
he withstood kings and princes. — S. t Jerome.
E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR
WHOLE NUMBER 1808.
A Pneumatic Tube Four Hundred
Miles Longi
Tho following extract from a letter received
by one of our friends, describes the opera
tion of a pneumatic tube between Glasgow
and London. Probably few of our readers
are aware of tho existence of tho process by
which messages and packages aro almost in
stantaneously transmitted between those
two cities.
I had occasion to send a telegram to
London the other day, and in a few minutes
received a reply which led mo to suppose
that a serions error had been committed by
m 7 agents, involving many thousand pounds.
I immediately went to tho telegraph office
and asked to see my message. The clerk
said, “ We can’t show it to yon, as wo havo
sent it to London.” “Bnt,” I replied, “you
must havo my original paper here; I wish to
see that.” lie again said “ No, we have not
got it, it is in tho post office at London. ”
“Wliat do you mean?” I asked. “ Pray let
me see tho paper I left hero half hour ago."
“ Well,” said he, “if yon must see it, wo
will get it back in a few minute, bnt it is now
in London.” Ho rang a bell, and in five
minutes or so, produced my message rolled
tip in pasteboard.
It seems that for some months there lias
existed a pneumatic telegraph betwixt Glas
gow and London and betwixt London and
tho other principal cities of tho Kingdom,
whioh consists of an iron tube, into which
the messages are thrown and sent to their
destination. I inquired if I might seo a
message sent. “On yes, come round hero.”
Ho slipped a number of messages into tho
pasteboard scroll, popped it into the tubo
and made a signal. I put my car to tho
tubo and heard a alight rumbling noise for
seventeen seconds, when a liell ring beside
me, indicating that the scroll had arrived at
tho general postoffice, four hundred miles
off! It almost took my breath away to thihk
of it. If I could only go to Boston witli the
same relative speed, you might oount On my
passing an evening every week at No. 124,
Beacon street, and returning homo to sleep.
Who knows but that wo may lie conveyed
m this marvollons manner before many
years.
Perhaps you are aware tljat there has been
a large tube between the general postoffice
in London and the station in Eustace square
in operation for a number of years. Tho
mail bags for the North are all sent by this
conveyance, so that the postoffico receives
letters up to a sow minutes before the train
loaves, three miles off. The transit takes
loss than two seconds. Snrely this is an age
of wonders.— Transcript.
The Heart and its Diseases.
Wo attach far too little importance to this
organ nnd its functions. It performs its
great office so quietly and so uninterrupted
ly that wo even forget its existence. From
a period anterior to birth until death, during
sleeping as well os waking hours, ceaselessly
and noiselessly, with steady and measured
rhythm, it circulates the vital fluid through
every tissue of the body. Seventy-five times
it pulsates in a minute, or 108,000 times in
a day, without exhaustion or apparent need
of repose.
The heart is a hollow, muscular organ,
weighing but ten ounces, and is suspended
in tno cavity of tho chest by delicate liga
ments. And yet it performs, quietly and
noiselessly, and with but the slightest jar,
an incredible amount of labor. In twenty
four hours it is estimated that the heart ac
complishes more than tlirco times as much
work as a common laborer in ten hours.
“Three old women sitting by tlie fire,” says
a recent' scientific writer, “alternately spin
ning and sleeping, do more work by the con
stant beating of their hearts .than can bo
done in a day by the youngest and strongest
laborer.” He adds : “No labor that we can
nnldertake is regarded as‘more severe than
that of the muscles employed daring a boat
rate.; and yet this labor. Beware as it
only .three-fourtlis of that exerted day and
night, during ltfe; by eaeh ©f onr hearts.”
If the entire force of the heart were expend
ed in lifting its own weight vertically, it
would bo raised 19,754 feet in one hour.
Compare this with the exertions of an active
pedestrian, who can raise his own weight
but 1,000 feet per hour, and we find that the
hourt exerts about twenty times os much
force; or with the best locomotive, which
can raise itself 2,700 feet in an hour, which
is out one-eighth part of the energy or the
human hoart.
To a reflective mind, it can not boa mas
ter of surprise that this delicately construc
ted organ, laboring so vigorously without a
moment’s rest, night or day, should frequent
ly, and often suddenly, give over its labor,
and cease to act. On tho contrary,'it is
rather a matter of astonistttaent tfcaf the
heart should maintain integrity,, year
after year, amid all tlip M-effiSs of exgi>;cmefit
through which tho individual pas; os for
threescore years And ten. In soTOrei t sick
neps, when other organs fail,' tholiearf pfilr
mieothe even tenor of its way, oont inning
its pulsatious to file last moment of life.
Like a strong warrior in a citadel, if yields
only when every resoittoe hasboenexhaustod.
A Funny Bird.
A recent traveler in Australia thus de
solilies the performances of a tame cocka
too, known by its pet-name of “the Doctor:’,
bit pretended to have a violent toothache,
and nursed its beak in its claw, rocking it
self backward and forward as if in the great
est agony, and, in answer to Ml tlio reme
dies which were proposed, croaking out,
‘Oil, it ain’t a bit of good !’ and, finally,
sidling np to tho edgo of its perch, and
saying, in a hoarse bnt confidential whisper:
‘Give us a drop of whiskey, do.' ”
“it would also pretend to sew, holding a
little piece of cloth underneath tho claw
which rested oil thoporeh and going through
this motions with tho other, getting into dif
ficulties with its thread, and finally setting
up a loud song in praise of sewing-ma
cliiues, just as if it were an advertisement.
“The ‘Doctor’s’ best performance is when
he imitates a hawk. He reserves this fine
piece of acting until his. mistress is feeding
nek poultry; then, when all the hens and
chickens, turkeys and pigeons, are in tho
quiet enjoyment of their breakfast or sup
ped, the peculiar rfhrill cry of a hawk is
heard overhead, and the ‘Doctor’ is seen
circling in tho air, uttering a scream occa
sionally. The fowls never find ©ut that it
is a hoax, bnt run to shelter, cackling in
the greatest alarm—hens clucking loudly for
their chicks, turkeys orouohing under tlio
bushes, the taking refuge iu their
house. As soon as tho ground is quite
dear, cocky changes his wud note for peals
of laughter from a high tree, and, finally
alighting on the top of a hencoop filled with
trembling chickens, remarks, in a suffocated
voioe, ‘You’ll bo tlio death of me!’ ”—Ap
pleton’s Journal.
Paley’s Love Trials. —The Eclectic quotes
some “new cariosities of literature,” from
Punch. One is about Paley. “Ho was
constantly'in love, and as often, with an ex
cess of fastidiousness, discovering some im
perfection which deterred him from propos
ing marriage. One lady sneezed three times
in three minutes; another looked too stout
on horseback; a third horrified him by par
taking twice of liver and bacon ; a fourth
could not tell what caviare was; and a fifth,
who really thought she had hooked the
archdeacon, lost him by his coming in un
expectedly from one of his fishing excur
sions, anil finding her sacking a large-sizfid
orange. ”
Learning will ncenmnlate wonderfully if
you add a little every day. Do not wait for
a long period of leisure. Pick up the hook
and gain one new idea if no more. Save
that one and odd another as soon as yon
can. Says the old Scotch adage: “ Many a
littloouakes a mickle.”
(l French Bishop in a sermon recently ad
ministered a pliillippic to crinoline wearers.
“Let women beware,” said he, “while put
ting on their profuse and expansivo attire,
how narrow are tho gates of Paradise. ”
Prayer is of natnre; thankfulness of grace.
Want foroeth open every month to crave;
religion opens a few to render thanks in re
turn.
Worship God in “ the beauty of holiness, ”
and let thy soul delight itself in Jesus. Dnnk
long and deep from the Fountain of Love,
and satisfy the thirst of thy soul. Feed
richly upon the heavenly manna, till thou
hunger no more. Let thy joy he full, for
so is the will of thy Master.