Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 26, Number 34, Indianapolis, Marion County, 11 April 1877 — Page 1

AH VOL. XXVI, KO 34 IKDIAXArOLIS, TODKESDAY MOUSING, APHIL 11, WHOLE NO. 1899.

For the Sunday Bentinel. HEART BREAK

TO MRS. KATK DAYIH60M VlLI.EK, UK INDIANAPOLIS. Ah, go with your cold, coltt coin Tort, It matters not what la said, You cau not undo God '4 doing. You cau not restore my dead ! "Why talk of the saintly patience That calmly can all resign "Will thoughts of another's anguish "Lessen one throe of mine? I ki)v that you offer solace As tender as love can frame; Bat what does it all avail me? The terrible truth's the same. You counsel a holy quiet, "The darling ha gone to Uod": The darling kissed, I fondled, Is ander the churchyard sod! 0 blue, bluest eyes! Whose beauty Made pallid the deepest sky, Was your far away gaze prophetic? Were ye fashioned to fade and die? Who said that the angels In Heaven Amidst of their praise might pause As inward she stole my darling! To marvel how fair she was? Thanks, thanks for the soothing vision : But my desolat d heart is wild. And it ponders In pain the questlou Had Uod any need of the child f One face missed out of the faces That circle His throne one dim. Faint voice from the alleluiasHow little that were to Him. One presence my warm arms Oiling, One brow that I yearn to see, One echo to break my silence, Here all of the world to me. 1 think that I do not murmur; I know It la God's own hand ; His patience will bear with a sorrow Too blinded too understand. "Sometime when the loss grows lighter, The heart may heal of its break." Sometime? You are kind to say It ; But now, give it leave to ache! Margaret J. Prkston. Lexington, Virginia. For the Sunday Sentinel. t ONE WOMAN'S ENDEAVOR. BY MRS. SALLIE A. RAM AO E. Wanted A young girl at No. 20tf street. A quiet bometnd lair wage are ottered to a satisfactory person. Call immediately. This little fifteen cent advertisement was what brought Rachel to our house last fall. We were sorely in need of a girl, for the children had not been well all summer, and the extra work and care had completely exhausted everybody capable of work, and the approaching cold weather would find us unprepared, for the sewing machine had been idle for weeks. We had hitherto been rather careful as to references and character, bat so unsuccessful bad all our endeavor6 Veen to secure servants that we resolved to trust to human nature and hire the first one who came, provided she would be kind to the children. Edith," our baby girl, was high tempered and resolute, but our poor little Harry was weak and shrinking and sensitive, and we determined front the first to be watchful as to whose care he was placed under. Our former nurse had gone home to stay, and we were worn out body and mind when, bringing the advertisement for an introduction Rachel presented herself. She was young, about eighteen I imagined, though really she was little past her seventeenth birthday, with quiet ways and language that pleased us, and we hired her. While we were debating the question her face was sad, but after the bargain was made and I took her to her room to lay off her wrappings the joy and thankfulness transformed her completely. She was quick and "handy," anxious to please, eager to learn, willing to be corrected in ali a "perfect jewel." By bed time the children were tier fast friends, and when Edith had been rocked to sleep Ind she waa quieting Harry with little stories and songs. I went back to the parlor satisfied, really a sew woman. Day by day she went about her work, never gaily, never with loud laughter or ong, but now and then humming some old tune or smiling at the odd pranks or word of the little orves. She seemed to know ne one in the city. She had no company and went nowhere excepting when I had her takcthe children for a walk, and even then I noticed that though she uttered no remonstrance, she seemed loth to go and glad to return. She never spoke of her former life excepting when I asked some questions, and then I learned only that she was An orphan, that she noe lived in the country, and that she had been adopted by a farmer there, but preferring a city life the had left, and that she was willing to stay with bs as long as I would let her, which I mentally vowed would be as long as I could persuade her to stay. She was the most economical human being I ver raw. Scarcely a cent of her wages waa ever spent. he hoarded money like a miser. She patched and darned and remodeled her clothing as long as two pieces would cling together, and and when forced to buy more she was careful to get the plainest and most durable. She kept th house daintily clean; her cooking was splendid; she was never hurried; but above all, she was perfection as a nurse. Xo matter how weary she was after a long day's work, just let her hear Ifarry or Edith cry or grow restlew in the night, she was with them in a moment, hashing them into sleep with lulling songs or soothing words. She would sit hour after hour rocking them, and I etüz. roticui hoT tender1 y and gent

ly for such a young girl she treated them, patiently bearing their petty fault-Endings and complaints. As she developed into such a home treasure, I tried to aid her in every way in improving her mind. She was rather ignorant, and I gave her such books as I thought would help her, and greedily were they devoured. Her room was so clean and tidy that I often lingered a moment to chat with her. I had always tried to respect the womanhood of even my servants, and impress upon them my confidence in their uprightness, and my anxiety for their welfare; and one of my ways to do this was always to provide them with a comfortable room. Individually they would always change my arrangements, some of thenl for the better, but generally they cared little for the luxury of nice bedding, clean towels, neatly framed pictures and the square of carpet that had once done duty in the nursery. But Rachel enjoyed everything in her quiet way, carefully sweeping and dusting the little spot with an appreciation of her ownership for the time being. I had not a fault to find in all of her ways or language. In many things he was ignorant, but a little instruction would always start her in the right direction, and nothing further would be needed until she again got to the limits of her knowledge. As I became more familiar with her I began to imagine she had some trouble or sorrow on her mind. She rarely ever cried, but she always looked sad and lonely, as if she was longing for something or grieving for a blessing or pleasure lost. I never pry into anybody's affairs or force their confidence, but I tried to win her trust so that at the proper time she would feel faith nd reliance enough in my friendship to tell me all. I allowed the children to be much with her, and though she was always kind to Edith she seemed to cling to my poor fragile Harry. When he was in pain she would carry him for hours in her arms, rubbing his limbs, bathing his fevered body, preparing tempting food for him, never tiring of ministering to him, and once I heard her in the night kissing him and crying as if her heart would break. The next morning she was as calm as usual, but if possible more quiet. She lingered in the room after every one had left it excepting me, and coming to me she said brokenly, "Oh, my heart aches so." "Why, Rachel, my poor girl, what is the matter? Tell me all. Sit down here by me. Let the dishes alone." She came to me, crouching on the sofa, as if in pain. I knew not what to say, but waited for her to speak, knowing how slowly the words come when the heart is choking almost the very life out of the throbbing breast. "Maybe you will turn me off. I expect you will, but I can not live any longer this way. I might just as well die one way as another, and I can not, I can not bear it any longer. Everybody has hated me ever since, and though I have tried to do right, tried to get God's par Jon, nobody will forgive me. Just let me kiss the children, and I will go." She started up, but I caught her hand. "Rachel, my poor child, tell me." "Do not call me your child, for if I had been I should never have been what I am. Oh, if I had only had a mother to have gone to to have loved me and protected me I would to-day be as happy as your Edith will be when she is a woman. You will never let me see them again if I tell you. You will take Harry out of my arms and drive me away they all do that. I worked night and day for a lady, and when I told her my past life she pushed me out of the door and threw my clothes after me, but she kept my wages, and that is why I could not tell you at first. I am to blame at least everybody says a woman is and, though I do not ask nor expect to stay with you after I tell you, please promise me that you will not think me worse than I am." She laid her hand pleadingly on my arm and looked into ny face with such an eager longing for pity that, forgetting what the dreadful story might be that she was to tell me, I put my arm around her and drew her head to my shoulder. Poor child! My mother heart was full of my own child's future. What might not be the story that at 13 she would beg some one to pity and forgive? Here was some mother's dar ling, a girl whose baby lips had been presse -with the warm kisses of a happy love, but whose young feet had been left alone to stray wheresoever they would, and remembering her dead mother and my own innocent babes, I felt only great pity and tenderness for her, and held her the closer to my breast. She whispered the story of her si a, of its consequences, but refused to tell the name of the father of the wailing, delicate baby, whose little life was begun with such a burden of sorrow and shame. No smiles, no waren embraces, no motherly joy or fatherly pride greeted the little one. The bare walls, the narrow bed of a hospital, the rough hand of careless . strangers awaited the baby boy, who had in all the world no friend but the agonized, fainting young mother. She loved as purely as any honorable mother in the land her child, and tried to earn enough to keep him with her, but she could not answer the questions as to husband and home, and from place after place she was turned away until only the alternatives remained, give up her baby or sin again. Her voice failed her for an instant, "I could not do that, and one night I wrapped my shawl around him and laid him at the door of the Foundlings' home. He was fast asleep and I kissed him over and over, for it seemed like burying him, and he lifted his little head and cuddled it down by my cheek. It was worse

than seeing him die, for then he would have been with God, but now I do not know what will become of him. I watched until the good sister opened the door and took him in, and ever since it has seemed as if the light and life have been shut away from me; my heart aches day after day for my boy; he was mine, and he was as delicate and pretty as anybody's, for his father was handsome and educated, and he looked like him nothing like me.. I believe if he could only have seen the baby once he would have loved him, for he was so pretty in his ways, but he is gone, and the baby U gone, and I am alone." Her face was like marble, utterly without a tint of coloring, a deathly pallor that overspread it. "I am saving my money to buy him some clothes, and I thought may be I could take them to the home, and give them to the sister for his number, for the basket had a number for the next one put there; it was 499, and she would give him the little dresses and sacks; he is six months old now. But I must go." "Rachel," and I lilted the poor, sad face closer to mine, "you must not go, you must stay right here with me. You are crushed and suffering enough how: you must not go out into the world again to be lost in the crowd and either die of hunger and cold, or go down into the depths. You shall watch over my children; I can, I do trust you fully and completly, and no word of your sad story shall ever pass my lips, nor shall any reference ever be made to it unless you desire it first, I will shield you and comfort you, and with God's pardoning love you need ear nothing more. You have repented; that is enough. Now you must enjoy the peace of complete pardon." She was too thankful for speech, but for the first time she sang as she worked that afternoon. It was Harry's favorite bedtime song, "Simply to Thy Cross I Cling," she repeated again and again. The next morning I slipped away, with a full suit of Edith's baby clothes, and with the happiest heart I ever had I hurried to the Foundlings' home. A pleasant, kindly faced Sister of Charity met me and took me to the parlor. A few words explained my call, and I waited impatiently as another examined the register for 49f. " Received August 4th, died October 12th; clothing awaiting demand." That was all. I was stunned, as if the blow had fallen on me instead of ray poor servant girl. "You see, madam," said the sister who had admitted me, "the baby was delicate and had never had proper food, and though we tried hard we could not save him. He was very pretty. Will you take the clothes?" I bowed the assent I could not speak, and she returned with the package labelled 499. ' A faded shawl, some tiny underwear, a pair of socks, and a thin calico slip. They were neatly washed and ironed, but so suggestive were they of the fragile fom that they were pitiful. I pressed the clothing I had brought upon her, left some money for the other forsaken waifs, and went back to the aching heart in my own home. I tried to tell her gently, but it was useless; she suffered indescribable anguish. She pressed the little worn clothing to her heart and hid her face in the tiny dress. They were all she had left. She moaned and grieved, but wept not a teart as if her agony was too deep for that. "My

boy, my angel baby, gone without your mother's kiss, without yonr mother's tears, even. My poor little baby, my poor little baby, I wish I was dead too." I saw I could not comfort her, her grief was too great, so I called the -children, and lifting Edith to her lap, I put Harry's arms around her neck and left her to them, knowing that the childish voices and love would soothe her aching heart more than ray words possibly could. I heard Harry telling her of his little sister ia heaven, of the angels around the throne, of Jesus and His love for the -children, and after a while there was einging. I did not call on Rachel for any work that day, but when the children were in bedhe came to me and said, so sadly: "1 shall not grieve for my baby again. I had hoped to have had him with me, but Jesus knew best. I can not help sorrowing for him, but I feel glad he 3s safe. Now, if you please, I would like for you to take all of my wages and buy clothes for the other -children at the houie." I never told this story to any one, but some one from Rachel's old home came to the city, recognised her. and industriously spread the news of her past. Some of my friends immediately called to warn me and insist on mjr sending her away. I only replied: "I have known this for weeks, and I have resolved to do what is right. While I deplore her sin, aiid recognise her fall as much as you, I can sot believe it is right to push her back into the darkness just as she is struggling into the light. I appreciate her ruin the utter degradation of such a creature, but I also estimate truly her penitence and reformation. I know in part her ignorance and her great temptation, and I can only wonder that she did no worse. What one woman can do to help uplift another I nhall try to accomplish for Rachel West" A trifle more quiet and gentle, a little more reserved in her manner, she performs her daily round of work, caring for nothing but my children and the little grave in the cemetery, where, for the first time, the flowers are beginning to blossom and the ivy to creep. She is young, and life may have many weary yean for her yet, but I believe as I live that she will be true and pure' to the end. "He that is without sin, let him ca:t the first stone."

For the Sunday Sentlnel. THE MOSS ROSE.

BY H. W. Ksowest thou this flower, thus mossy fctemmed, Can toll a sträng, weird story ; Knowest thou romance Its life attends, Surrounding it with glory? Not always thus with moss and flowers. Hath it been known to flourish; Once it formed nature's wildest bowers; Naught but thorns iti stem would nourVih But now, sweet maid, lis love's true token, Can secrets of the heart explore; memory's golden chain is broken, The mis-sing link It can restore. Then list, perchane I may explain Why thus it now doth blos.som here, Whence it derives Its sacred name, And why Its bloom all hearts revere. Years ago, two maidens fair and young. Whom frleudnblp'8 ties had e'er united. Once loved, but alas! their love was one, A soldier famed and knighted. And yet they loved in silence ever, Tnelr passion unto each unknown ; Thus nanght their friendship e'er could sever. For each one deemed she loved alone. The one was fair, with golden tresses, And lustrous eyes serenely blue; The other dark such as beauty blesses With cheeks of crimson, dusky hue. The one was gentle, mild, reserved, Insplring.love and sweet affection; The other sparkling, sunllae, nerved, A sunbeam to dispel dejection. Thus still they loved, their secret cherished, Till both at last their sorrow learned; The one they loved In wars soon perished, A dull, cold corpse to them returned. The secret deep which naught could open, Death at last to both revealed ; They found, alas! with hearts how broken; What woe their secrecy concealed. For each bad deemed hemelf the chtwen. Each had trusted far In love; The truth revealed, their hearts were fr, ten, Cold death their spirits bore above. Their graves, unmarked, not long remembered, In sad neglect were soon forgot. 'Twas then her aid kind nature rendered, Guarded with wildest growth the spot. Thus unmolested, thorn embowered. With wildest nature left alone; Till, after years, thethornbush flowered, With flowers of fragrance then unknown. Instead of thoras, which disappeared, A downy moss each stem o'ergrew ; Thus nature's first moss-rose was reared. And first the world its fragrance knew. And hence 'tis said Its blooms express All that memory sweet endears; Lovers hence its sacred ness confess. And each fond heart its life revers. FOR SUNDAY. SoBnel Light. BT MARGARET E. HANGSTKK. When sometimes after bourn of mist and rain. And clouds low-hanging o'er the shadowed earth, A sadden glory flashes on the pane. And, like a little child that laughs in mirth, The worn world lights her face with smiles again, Ana sings a good-night song with sweet refrain. We question whence the change, and where its birth ; Then far and near we see the ruby dye Of sunnet plendor over alt the sky: The lifted clouds are touched with royal hue; To-morrow's heaven will stretch a field of bitie: Yet lens to-morrow wins on than to-night. Bo sweat It ia when evenlag brings us light! One of the prettiest pieces of naivete that ever came to our notice was the remark of Dr. Inp5is, missionary in Polynesia, who says of the natives: "It is far easier to get them K pray, sing hymns, hear sermons, and reaxl the Scriptures than to be truthful, oaest and unselfish. ' The pilgrimages to Rome to celebrate the papal jubilee, it is said, will be very numerous. As many as 20,000 are expected to be in that city in June. The Swiss pilgrims will be -under the supervision of a national committee. A French company will leave Lyons May 15. There will le a pilgrimage from Brazil and one from Canada; none has yet been definitely announced from the nitd States. P ncipal Tnllock, sn an article oa the "Progress of Religious Thought in Scotland," says: "The current of free thought is running deep and sure in all the churches, even within softened and exclusive precincts, where it makes no noise at all. It will make its way to the light by and by, from all quarters of the ecclesiastical horizon; and the church which will have most chance may possibly not be any of the present organizations, but a church more excellent tecause at once itore liberal and catholic than any of those now existing." Edward Mai eland, the English radical writer seems to hold the remarkable opinion that in bis "England and Islam" he added a new book to the Bible. It is advertised as "a new revelation," and in a new preface, added to a second edition, the writer says: 'The production of this look was accompanied by phenomena of sueh a character as to leave no doubt on the minds of the writer and those others who witnessed them thst it contains a revelation from the spiritual world, which is destined to constitute it one of the world's Bibles. Written under the control of a pirit claiming to be the sanie that ppoke through the prophets of the Old and New Testaments," etc, etc How very dear to memory are some quiet hours of which the world takes no note! To outward seeming they have, been very ineventful. Nothing happened to set the day in which they came to us apart from other days. Yet we know that they are different, and were full of a strange, sweet charm, for the world forgetting, by the world forgot,we entered into the courts of the King. Jesus revealed Himself to our worshipping souls. And though we are not able to explain just what the revelation was, it was as real to our experience as the entering into our room of a friend, as the voice in our ear of a brother. It may see in to tnose who are in the full tide of earth's warfare and work that our quiet hours are dull, but we know that they are gilded with the sunlight of the better land. A irttnt rnnnflnn of deloc&tAB fmm iha "il.ubodbit" and "Methodist Protestant"

denominations will be held in Baltimore during the first part of May, to ratify the basis of union adopted by commissioners of both churches who met atj Pittsburg, October, 1875. Separate preliminary meetings for organization will be held by the delegates on May 11. These two bodies, which were formerly one, separated in 1801 upon the question of slavery. To effect the reunion the word "white" is to be dropped from the constitution of the MethodL-t Protestant church, and other minor modifications will be made. The name "Methodist Protestant" will be the one retained. The statistics of the new church, as reported, will be as follows: Members and probationers, 140.000; itinerant ministers, 1,800; annual conferences, 40; value of church property, $3,000,000. These churches are nonespiscopal in their form of government. Mr. Moody has expressed himself as especially satisfied with the results of the division of the noon prayer meeting at the Boston tabernacle into a half dozen meetings. "When Christians get done," he said, "running after men, and go to praying, this work will be successful and its results permanent." At the Tremont temple the noon meeting is attended by 2,000 persons; at the same time f the day a woman's meeting, led by Miss Frances E. Willard, is held at the Park street church. Other noon meetings are held at East and South Boston, the Highlands and Chelsea. A market men's meeting is held every day at Lakeman's hall. On Friday at noon a great temperance meeting is convened at the tabernacle. On Sunday last the ninth week of the tabernacle services began ; nearly 20,000 persons attended on that day. At the night meeting nearly 100 men who had been gathered from the north end of the eitv

and fed. were present. The sermon was to men only. The attendance this week has been large; on Tuesday evening, which was stormy, 5,000 persons were present. Ot the effect of these services the Boston Traveller, gives this estimate: "Boston is certainly stirred as it has seldom been stirred before. and there are indications that the movement will have a still wider reach and a deeper influence than at present, as each day men who have been lukewarm are brought iato active co-operation, while many indifferent have been interested, and some who were hostile have been brought to looa upon it in a new light." EDUCATIONAL, ITEMS. The salaries of the Louisville teachers have been reduced. H Fisk university, the colored college in Tennessee, has 250 students. An effort will soon be made to hold colored teachers' institutes throughout that state. The city of Monrovia, in Liberia, is about to open public schools, and the mayor is seeking information in regard to the Massa chusetts system of education. Dr. Hopkins, of Williams, has assigned to each member of the senior class the task of presenting before the class a condensed account of the life and theory of some prominent philosopher. ... About 15 per cent of Trinity college students are candidates for the degree of Bachelor of Science, or are taking a special course of study, leaving 85 per cent, in the full classical course. Spanish, Hebrew and Sanskrit are among the elective. It is said that the pupils of the Brooklyn public schools "are required to stand a critical examination in the history of Persia, Greece, Macedonia and Rome, and pack their memories with the technicalities of natural philosophy; but the business of handling with ease and accuracy the fundamental rules of arithmetic and the art of expressing thought in plain English are treated as of the least possible consequence." The Princeton College Princetonian says: The class of 1841 has "panned out" remarkably well. Some of the most distinguished members are Professor Duffaeld of the Faculty, F. P. Blair, the Rev. Dr. Theodore Cuyler, Vice-Chancellor Dodd, R W. Walker of Alabama, the Rev. Dr. A. A. Hodge of Western Theological seminary. Judges Nixon and Scudder, and the late Professor Oiger. three members of this class have sons in the class of 1877. The following plan is proposed for an aquatic summer school of natural history to be organized by Professor Conistock, of Cor nell university: A steamer will be chartered for a period of four to six weeks, to be used solely for the purposes of the school on a trip from Buffalo or Cleveland, along .the south and west shores of lakes Erie, Huron and Superior, thence along the north and east shores of the same waters, visiting all important bays and islands on the way. touching frequently for inland excursions to the mines and other points of scientific in terest umerous localities out of the regu lar line of travel will be included, and some of the larger rivers will be ascended as far as practicable. Competent instructors will be engaged to superintend the zoological and botanical work. Lectures have been prom ised by eminent specialists who will loin the party at convenient points along the reute. Dredgings will be made a - of ten as desirable, and complete illustrative collec tions will be obtained of the geology, zool ogy and botany of the regions traversed. President Oilman -ef Johns Hopkins uni versity, in describing his ideal college the other day, said that three by-laws should be passed that no waste of time should be allowed within its walls, that there should be no disparagement of any branch of learn ing, and that character is before knowledge. Not what one knows, but what he is, shoqjd be the criterion. Tb-e first requisite of such a university is brains a large number of learned teachers, who must also be ready to teacn ana SKiiiea in teacning. I ne day is passed when the same teacher can teach everything. Other requisites are choice collections of books, apparatus, etc, good plana, method and harmony, good working places, as laboratories, etc., and last, a gooa bodf of enthusiastic student. Whether the guar dians of the Johns Hopkins university are aiming at this remains to be seen. Strangers are invited to come among us, and by their counsel and help and by their presence aid us in reaching out to the education of the intelligent classes in the community. The four-year system has been entirely given up, and is falling into disuse in many institutions in the country. The matriculation requsites are as high as in the best institutions of the land, and the student has now the choice of at least seven combinations of studies. For the degree of Bachelor of Arts a knowledge of Latin and Greek is required, and to students of science are given opportunites for the study of literature and the languages, and opportunities to the classical and literary student for the study of science. Sharp lines are not drawn between the faculty and students, but professos, associates, fellows and students are regarded as fellow-workers."

VOK tN Of THE SE.. BV HERTHA HCRAKT0X FOOL. And all of the rivers run down to the sea. The sea! that heavily lies,

And watches the crimson morning break 1 the pallid gray of the skies. And then, at twilight, a goklen edge Creeps over the world like a psalm. And klase tho restless waves that break On the horizon V amber calm. And all of the fchlps sail forthsail forth To the narrow ledge In the blue, And dip their white wings, like the birds That the distance hides from view. And over the darkness streams the glow Of the lighthouse, when day wanes, And all that comes to thee goes out Goes out, and naught remains! I wonder whatever you say, 0 sea? For your shuddering lips make moan, And f ull of graves tho' your bosom be. You seem to be ever alone. Is it for mortal love and tear That trample across your heart, You shudder the warning men will not hear, When the planks of a good ship part? Is it when hoarse and wild you sing, And the storms laugh at our woe. And masts fall prone like Cower stalks, And men crouch white below? Is It when clinging to spray wet spars, You drift us thro the world. And all the weight of your wild revenge On two clinging arms is hurled? Or is it when solemnly, deeply still. We lower the hammock sheet, With a round shot at the quiet head And a ronnd shot at the feet. And read ns a prayer not "Earth to earth" In a quiet burial ground, With the sunlight over an open grave And the mourners all around; But "Unto the deep," the awful deep, No man can quite forget. When the good ship sails on her course, And the widening circles yet Spread on and out, as tho' to heaven, Where a weight went down In the blue, With never a mound to point the spot, Or a flower to creep up through. No man can quite forget, I say, The sudden wrench of pain As he misses a face on the morrow's watch Hn never may see again. . In tropical depths of purple wave The weeds grow green a ad tall, And the coral lifts its pinnacles Like adiowned city's wall; And, leaning over the brave ship's side, We still can eat eh thy cry, As, tho' a eaptlve in your chains, You prayed onto the sky. And white thy cliffs and wild thy shores, And cruel thy great b-rgs be. But the plaint that thy shuddering dirgea sing Is the saddest of all to me. vL JaXiSOBTSL A clause in the deed of the Foundry Methodist Episcopal church, Washington, which President Hayes and Mrs. Hayes attend, sets apart a pew therein for the president of the United States. The Rev. B. Peyton Brown, a member of the Baltimore conference of long standing, is the pastor. It is related of the Hon. B. F. Moore, "the father of the bar" of North Carolina, that when Mr. Clay visited that state, he was selected to make the welcoming address to that statesman. He made a great effort in its preparation; be called on a friend. Mr. Simmons, in order to read it to him. "Well," said Simmons, ironically, "I suppose yon wish me to criticise and correct, being an educated and scholarly gentleman?" "Not that," said Mr. Moore, "but to see how it will strike the vulgar mind." We do not bear here the heaviest burdens in the world. Some of the English papers are urging that the income of the prince of Wales should be increased by an additional 30,000, or 1150.000 a year. His debt amount to $750,000. and it is thought that it would be more profitable to the nation to pay them than to have him go into com parti ve retirement for the purpose of doing so. Sir W. Knollys, his treasurer, states that his personal expenses are very small, and that no gentleman of social position spends so little for pocket money. He has not only to keep up costly establishments, but to maintain aaexpensive position as leader of society. lös income is not equal to that of a number of his friends. When asked lately if the report of his intended visit to Australia was true, the prince replied that he hoped so, because he greatly desired to see that region, and also because he would get a free passage there and back, and reduce his home expenditure. The Revue nistorque publishes a minute by the Emperor Napoleon I. concerning the observance of Sunday., It is so curiously characteristic of the man, and iJso has so direct a bearing on the Sabbatarian question, as to be worth reproducing: "It is contrary to the divine law," writes the emperor, "to prevent a man, who has wants on Sunday as much as other days of the week, from workin- on Sunday to" gain his bread. Government could not impose such a law unless it gave bread gratis to those who have none. God has imposed on men ah obligation to labor, since without labor He has not allowed them to gather any of the fruits of the earth. He has willed that they should work every day, since lie has given them wants which every day make themselves felt afresh. We must distinguish, in what the clergy prescribe, between laws which are truly religious laws and obligations which have been imagined only with the view of extending the authority of ministers of religion. The observance of fasting on Friday and resting on Sunday are only secondary and insignificant rules. What essentially concerns the commandments of the Church is, not to injure social order, not to do evil to one's neighbor, not to abus" liberty. . . Iam the authority, and I grant to mv people once for all Permission not to interrupt wieir wora. ine more wora tue less vice there will be. ... If I had to meddle with these matters. I would be rather dis posed to order that on Sundays, except during the hours of divine service, the shorn should be open' and the workmen at their work. When one casts a giant over the various classes which compose society, one feels that Sunday's rest is harmful rather than useful; one sees in how many arts and how many trades this interruption of labor produces troublesome results. Society does not make una contemplative order. Son legislators have wished to mske it a convent of monks, and apply to it rules which onl suit a cloister. Since men eat every dav. they ought to be allowed to work every

day."