Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 27, Number 41, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 May 1878 — Page 1

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VOL. XXVII- JSTO 41. INDIANAPOLIS, WEDNESDAY MORNIKG, MAY, 29, 1878. WHOLE NO. 232.

TIRED MOTHERS. A little elbow lean upon your kuee, Your tired knee, that has so much to bear; A child's dear eye are looking lovingly From underneath a tbalch or tangled hair. Perhaps you do not heed the velvet touch of warm, moist fingers, folding yours so You do not prise this blessing over inacli. You almoht are too tired to play to- n igh U But it ta blessedness! A year ago I did not aee It as I "do to-day "We are bo dxiU and thankless, and too slow To catch the sunsaine till it Mips away. And now It eemi Kirpassing strange to ine That, while 1 boie the badge of motherhood, I did not kiss more oft and tenderly Th little child that brought me only good. Ami If some nlgat when you sit down to rest loaraift this elbow from your tired kuee, This restless, curling head from off your breast. This lisping teogue that chatters constantlyHfrwmVonr wn the dimpled hands had Atlped, And ne'er would nestle in your palms again; If the w hite feet into their (crave had tripped, I e id not blame yon for your heartache then. I wonder so that mothers ever fret At little ctilldren clinging to their gown ; Or that the footprints when the day are wet Are ever black enough to make them frown. If I oald nd a little muddy hoot r cap or Jacket on my chamber floor; If I could kiss a rosy, restless loot, And hear its patter In my home once more; If I could mend a broken cart to-day. To-morrow make a kite to reach the sky There Is no woman In (tod's world could nay She was more blissfully content than I. But, ah'! tho dainty pil ow next my own Is never rumpled by a shining head; JMy singing birdllng from its next is flown The little boy I used to kiss is dead. . MY FIRST LOVE LETTER.

BT GRACE GREENWOOD. Have I ever told yon, Nell, of my first love letter? I prtsume not It is story I have net been very fond of telling. But years brio? to me, if not philosophy, a comtortable sense of the comical in regard to all early illusions and dis illusions. Tne moment of opening and reading the first love letter is a thrilling, and august point of time, in which all the spring tides of passionate young life seem to meet in a swift, dazzling whirl of emotion. It from the right mau, what triumphant joy! If from a suitor one can not smile on, what sweet pain! Bat you know all ubout it dear. I was very young when I received my first love letter indeed, not permanently out of short frocks and the bread-and-butter age. Having lived the greater portion of my life in the country, the companion of my brothers, I was a desperate romp and gypsy, delighting to roam the fields and woods, preferring the fishing rl to the needle, and even the stable to the parlor. As yet, a fine hore was the rival of all mankind in my young affections. Still I bad read Scott, Edge worth, Hemans and L. E. L., with an occasional stealthy dip into Byron, and bad my own foolish little romantic dreams of my hero, my fairy prince, who was to come in love's good time. .1 used to dream f him, as I sit like little .Ellie among the alders, with my feet in the brook, or as I rode a lone in the woods. I thought little of his .pedigree, but I resolved that he must nave a patrician dreek prohle, dark bine eyes, and black, curling hair, coming down on hi lofty brow in ; a Byron peak. I made no account of houses or lands a. fine horse. The "steed of steeds" was a sine qua non. Our removal from country to town was an absolute sorrow to me, with my nature loving heart, and wild free habits. I bated the busy monotony, the thronged loneliness, the dull whirl of city life. 1 could only console myself with occasional flights back into my old rural haunt. From the longest, rouxhest tramps I returned refreshed, prepared to endure what I could not care. .1 "came oat" prematurely and temiorar- . ily when I was scarcely fifteen, on the occa sion of a large wedding party. I wore a long dress and white kid gloves for the first time. My hair was curled. Oh, the torture of a night and ibe hideousness of a day in curl papers! I wore natural Mowers and carried a huge bouquet. .Distressingly ditlu'enanil to say awkward I early In the evening retired to a deep window seat, where 1 remained watching the merry groups of wedding guests, and listening to their easy chatter, with childish wonder and delight. Among the gayest of the gay was a certain fair young lady, whom I had known for some ti me as my double. Not that she was in the least like me. She wa. a -blonde very niucb. blomle while I wasa very brunette. She was distinguished .for sumptuousness of attire; and dress was not then, any more than it is now, my besetting sin, or peculiar virtue, whichever you incline to esteem it. But oddly enough, this fair lady bore my name precisely, surname and baptismal. I used to think the circumstance annoyed her, almost as though I hadete len the fashion of her Parisian bonnet, or the pattern of her costly, embroidered shawl. Aside from her name there was little common between us, certainly no love. At this party she quite oafchone the bride. I Sound it carious to watch be r. Her lightness and brightness did shine with uch splendor." Which was all very -proper, she being a rich tallow chandler's daarbter. But not long did I watch my double, for, my dear,;.t the very party I aw him my ideal hero, my fairy prince. From all that goodly company I aimried .Mm out at a glance. There were the dark blue eyes, there was a&ieak profile, the black-curly hair, the Byron peak and all. Imagine the emotions f your friend when to her secluded window seat this very young gentleman waa brought and presented as "Mr. John Trevalyan." II it wasn't just Trevalyan, i was quite as respectable a name. The John I'll stand by. Well, beetabd by me and .talked to me for ia bright, wondrous half fcour, precisely as though I had bean a full grown belle; and I, winder the spell of his plea nt .flattery, fell Cn with the little make-believe, and chatted away, quite at ease, and raid some things that were really not so bad. Yet, when I 5oke, it seemed to me it was some one else talking in a second double. Xj very voice iad an unfamiliar sound. Hr. Trevalyan Waked of poetry, art, masic, sad flowers, Lk a low, sweet, beg ailing, particular way after tie manner of his kind, lie .said, of all the tine arts, hisentbuahv.in waedecidedly for sculpture "eo eold.sopure, so exalted," ad he begged to know if I shared his its the tic presence. I suppose, Lf I had been properly trained, for a year or -two older, 1 might have answered. "I am enraptured with musio Ueethoven, Mozart, Henry Jiussell. and the Seguins; I dearly Jove art Titian, Michael Angelo, and Benjamin West; but I adore poetry Milton, yron. andN. P. Willis." As it was, with a desperately honest impulse, I replied: "I admire att and music, poetry, and all such things, bu I don't know much about them yet. To tell the plain truth, my particular enthusiasm is just horses! X suppose it's preverM and Improper, and all that; out I do anow something about horses and I Jove them." My hero smiled, in beaming, indulgent !

way, and declared that he participated in my enthusiasm that his love for horses amounted to quite a passion, and that he flattered himself he owned the fastest trotter in all that region. - Ah! at that moment, to quote from dear Miss Bremer, "our souls met" Mysterious sympathy of passionate young hearts! His eves, upon a nearer vie-w, were gray, but their expression was full of poetic sens;, bdlry. They beamed with that tender deference, half wistful, half wickced, hardest of all looks for even "little women" to resist. I suspect the fellow knew i. They all do. There was now and then a mysterious shade of sadness over his brow an interesting, Lara-like frown that came and went in that festive hour, l divined that, young as be was, he bad had great thoughts and ambitions, and sorrows and sins, or meant to have them, which was all the same. At parting, he begged from my bouquet a sprig of geranium, which be placed in his button hole "for remembrance." Then he asked leave to visit me, which I graciously accorded. Then we murmured our adieux. I went home with my bead among the stars. My dear, absurd as it may seem, I really believed I had that night met my destiny, and met it on the whole in a very satisfactory shape. I did not know just when to look for my admirer, but I was ready for him, morning and evening. I grew strangely careful of my dress. I assiduously brushed and curled my hair. I applied cosmetics to my sunburnt face. I slept in kid gloves. These alarming symptoms were not unnoticed by my tender mother; but she noticed that my manner had grown quiet and maidenly, and took great comfort thereat. Six days I waited In vain. The seventhmagic number! brought not him, but a letter. It was a dainty-looking missive, all rose-tinted and gilt edged. This was before the time of envelopes a remote age bordering on the "Drift Period," you may think, in the Insolence of your nineteen summers. It was directed this letter of letter of lettersin one of those rearing Italian hands once so fashionable. It was sealed with lilac colored wax, and the seal bore the motto how well I remember it, though I didn't in the least know what it meant then or "Tovjours fidele." With my heart beating into my finger tips I broke the seal I opened the letter. The very first line was something startling, unequivocal: "My dearest Love!" Without waiting to read another word I turned the leaf to look at the signature: "Ob, mv prophetic soul!" it was John Trevalyan!" I made no copy of that letter, and found memory has been a little unfaithful in regard to the exact wording. I know that I read it with great satisfaction in especial, a lover like inventory which it contained of my most amiable and admirable characteristics. There were things set down there that 1 had supposed known only to myself Toward its close the letter assumed a prac tical tone. "I will, with your leave," it ran, "call on your father in a day or two; in the meantime, love, perhaps you had better confide onr dear secret to no one, unless it be your brother Tom." Ah, heavens! the letter was not for me. Alas, I had no "brother Tom." Providence had been bountiful in sons to our house. Our cup bad nm over with that particular sort of blessing, but the respectable name of Thomas had somehow never struck my mother's roving fancy. At the baptismal font she had never given it in. Fatal omission! "Madam, you might have saved me from tins." I reseated that letter. I sent it with all dispatch and a courteous apology to my double, now my rival. I was wretched, but I could not be base. Yes, she married my John. After that I got so more of her letters, which was some consolation. No, a be was not pretty even on her wedding day, but she was charmingly dre3sed. John still lives. He has no longer the Byron expression; but the Byron peak on bis brow is more pronounced than ever. Of all the beautiful enthusiasms of his youth, that for fast horses alone remains. He has, I believe, never been to unhappy or wicked as he pomised to be, though, for a time, be fell into evil ways and was sent to the legislature. My double has made several visits to Paris, and has graven fonder and more au fait of dress than ever. As she has no children, she gives ber whole mind to it "mat that's not much." I never could think ber the companion for John in intellect and soul. I never, in truth, could help thinking that, if I ha I had a fair start with ner If I had had her clothes if I had had her brother Tom it might have but ah 'Of all sod words of tongue or pen. The auddewt are those: 4It might have been. "

A IVovel Event. The other evening a young lady abruptly turned the corner, and very rudely ran against a boy, who was small and ragged and freckled. Stopping as soon as she could, she turned to him and said: "I beg you pardon; indeed, I am very orry." The small, ragged and freckled boy looked up in amazement for an instant; then, taking on about three-fourths of a cap, he bowed very low, smiled until bis face Itecame lost in the smile, and answered: "You can have my parding and welcome, miss, and you may run agin me and knock me clean Jowk, an' I won't say a word." After the young lady bad passed on be lamed to a comrade and said, half apologet ically: "I never had any one to ask mv pardon, and it kind o' took me off my feet." Be Agreeable at M eala. IC'hrMian Advocate. Every one can do something to add to the social life nt thettble. If one can not talk, be can listen or ask questions, and let those who can talk. Gool listeners are as necessary as good talker. Never argue at the table; but tell pleaaant stones, relate or read anecdotes, and iok out for the good of alL Sometimes a single .anecdote from a paper starts a con vrsaU (that lasts during meal time. The family table ought to be bright and cheerful, a sort of domestic altar, where every uo casts down his or ber offering, great or small, of pleasantness and peace; where, for at least a brief space cf the day, all annoyances are laid aside, all stormy tempera bashed, all q Barrels healed: every one being clad and content to sit down at the same board and eat of the same bread and salt, making it. whether it were a rich repsst r a dinner of herbs, equally a joyful, almost a sacramental meal. . Philosophy. I believe I find it dailv nmrcl that va can get nothing in the world worth keeping, . . i. i , , 1 j jo i, wt uiui ii as u jjnuupie or a conviction, except out of purifying flame, or through strengthening trial. We err, we fall, we are huaibled, then we walk more cheref ully, we greedily eat and drink poison oat of the gilded cup of vice, or from the begger's wallet Of avarice: w ara weakened dvra.ri1 everything good in us rebels against m: our souls rise bitterly indignant against our bodies there ia a nerio1 r,f ivil war Tf Koul has strength, it conquers and tuIm I thereafter Khirlev. '

A LOXG JOURNEY.

"We sail to-day," said the captatn gay, As he nupped on board the boat that lay Sohliiuauddry. -Come now, b5snry; We'll land at Jerusalem by and by!" Away they sailed, and each craft they hailed ; While down in the cabin they balled and balled; For the sea was rough, and they had to luff And tack, till the captain cried out "Enough !" They stooped at Teru, this Jolly crew, And went to Prltaiid Timbneto; And after awhile they found the Nile, And watched the sports of the crocodile. They called on the tshah. and the mighty Czar, And on all the crowned heads near and far. Miook hands with the Cld they reahy did! And lunched on J.op of the pyramid! To Afrlc'sfctrand.or northern land. They steer as the captain rives command; And fly so fast that the slender mast Ooes quivering, shivering In the blast! Then on to the ground with a sadden bound. Leaps Jack twas a mercy he wasu t urowued! The sail Is furled, the anchor hurled. "We've been," cry thecuiiaren, -aurounu the world!" By billows tossed, by tempests crossed, Yet never a soul onboard was lost! Though the boat be a sieve, I do not grieve, They sail on the ocean of "make-believe." ELI PERKINS' WISE MULE. A 8rmoa to Indiana Farmers. "That mule kicked sense Into meonct," said Uncle William Banks, as be pulled the mule's long ears from under the halter. "That mule, I say," he can tinned, raising his voice "that mule has got more sense into him knows more about political economy, and understands the law of demand and supply better than any coogresjman who ever sat " "What! a mule understand political economy. Mr. Banks?" I interrupted. " Yes, sir, that mule does! Why, I was a poor man onet, and that there maie made me rich. Lord bles ye, Mr. Perkins, he kicked a fortune right into my pocket." "How was it Mr. Banks?" I asked. "How could a mule kick sense and a fortune into an old farmer like you?" "Well, sir," commenced the rich old farmer, "I used to own a firm near lie City. Pennsylvania. I bad the only meader land near the town and made the only hay that came to He City during the first year of the ile excitement. Hay paid splendidly then; I got twenty five and thirty-five dollars a ton for it, but I wouldn't have got over ten dollars for It if it hadn't been for this here mule." "What did the mule do?" I asked. "How could a mule raise the price of hay?" "Why he kicked sense into me, I say, and kicked up the price ot hay at the same kick. You sec I used to draw a load of hay into Ile City every day. The first loads sold quick for $20. One day I thought I'd make money faster, so I hired' two more mu'es and drew in two loads of bay. I sold one quick, but the other stood around all day, and I finally sold it for $10, rather than draw it home. The next day I was on hand with tvo loads again. Both loads stood around till noon, when I sold the first for $10 and the other I could not sell at all. The market was overstocked. So I drew it around to Deacon Stonts' and pitched it oil into his yard at $12." 'The next day," continued Mr. Banks, "I was on hand with my usual two loads of hay. They stood around till 3 o'clock without an offer. Finally a man came up and offered me ten dollars for one load. Said he, 'Deacon Storie bought bay for twelve dollars yesterdav.' Well, I took the ten dollars and drew the second load into Deacon Stone's barn for eight dollars. The next day I drew in two loads more, but the news had got all around that I bad told hay to Deacon .Stone at eight dollars, and I couldn't sell it for a dollar more. Said every man I talked to, 'Hay is down, Mr. Banks; the market is glutted.' In fact, nobody wanted any hay stall. But I finally sold one load at seven dollars, and drew the other back home." "What then," I asked, "where, does the mule come in?" "Why, as I was unhitching this here mule, Mr. Perkins, he kicked my left leg and broke it short off. I was carried into the house and I thought I was a ruined man, but I tell you that mule's kick made me a lich man "How?" I asked. "How did a mule's kick and a broken leg make you rich?" "Well, the next day we couldn't draw any hay, and the next day after it was the same thing. Finally a week rolled 'round and no bay went to town, when up drove Deacon Stone witb a span of mules troni Ile City." "I kuca up," sea the deacon, "to get aome more of that hay of yourn, 'Squire, I'm all out" "Deacon," said I, thinking he wanted me to draw it, "you can't have any more bay now. It will be three weeks before you get snv more hay from me." "Three weks!" said the deacon, raising his hands in astonishment. "Why, my horses will starve. I must have hay. I'll take two tons at fifteen dollars a ton and draw it myself." "All right," said I, "pitch it on." The next day up came another villager. He said he must have nay too; that there wasn't a spear to be bad in the city. "I'll give you $20 for a ton," he said. "And draw it youmlf I asked. "Yes: draw it myself." And away be went with a ton of hay at $20. "Two days after," continued farmer Banks, "three villagers came up and offered me $2.) per ton for all the hay I had. The sense the mule bad kicked into me began to show itself, and I told them I guessed i hadn't any mora hay to pare." "But, hang it, Mr. Banks, we must have hay," they BakL "But hay is hay, gentlemen," said I. "In fut, gentlemen," I said, "I've been lookin' over this bay matter, and I find the bay market is firm witb an upward tendency. Iu fact, I find the demand i greater than the supply. The home caoKuinption of nay "JJut dang it. Banks, we iwu-t have hay. You don't want all the horses in the city to starve, do you? they interrupted. "Mo, I don't want your horses to starve, but I tell you I havnTt got any bay to sell. However, if it will accommodate you and keep your horses from starving, I can spare you a few tons at thirty dollar. But mind, you must draw it yourself." "Agreed," they eaid, winkin' at each other, and we'll take ail you have at that price." "And thev took it?" I asked. "Yes sir, tbey took it, drew it to the city and sold it at $40 and I sold every spear of hay I had at that price. And for three years," continued farmer Banks, "I supplied th city with hay at a ton, when if that there mule hadn't a kicked the law of demand and supply into me hadn't a kicked financial economy into my thick skull, why I'd a been sellin' hay at five dollars a ton. An' that's why I love this here.mole." Chanrea of tbe Body. Chambers' JournaLJ A very common Idea, but one founded on no certain or feasible grounds, is that which maintains that our bodies undergo a com plete change and renewal of all their parts

every seven years. The "mystical" nature of the number seven has had an unquestionable effect in originating this opinion; and although the age of 14 and again that of 'Jl may be regarded as marking the attainment of youth and man hoc 1 and womanhood respectively, yet physiology gives no countenance to tbe popular opinion that of necessity these periods are those of sweeping bodily change. On the contrary it might be shown that the periods at which full growth ia attained vary with climate, race and constitution that ia, with tbe personal nature, and with the physical surroundings of individuals, communities and nations. The true state ot matters, as disclosed by pbys'-oloiry, leads us to contemplate actions and changes which are of infinitely more wondrous kind than those involved in the idea of septennial change. For if there is one axiom which physiology maintains more constantly than another, it is that which teaches that constant and never ceasing change is tbe lot of life from its beginning to its end. 5o part of the body of a living being is free from these changes of substance, through which indeed every act of life is carried on. Kvery movement of a muscle linger implies wstte of the organs and parts which move. The thinking of a thought implies wear and tear of tbe organ which thinks tbe brain itself. Were it possible to spend existence even in a perfectly still and rigid condition, there are still actions to be performed which are necessitating continual waste and ' wear of tbe tissues. Thus tbe beating of the heart, the movements of our chest in breathing, and tbe very act of receiving and digesting food actions which are in themselves concerned with the repair of the frame can only be performed through the intervention of processes of work, and waste of body. So that a hying being is to be regarded as passing its existence in a constant state of change. Its particles are being continually wasted, and as incessantly renewed; and although the growth of our bodies may be said to culminate .at various periods of our life, yet it is anything but correct to say that there are marked epochs of change in human existence. ) The truth is that change and alteration are our continual heritage; and it ia strange indeed to think that not an organ or part of cnir bodies exists which has not repeatedly in its history been insensibly and gradually, but none the less perfectly, renewed in all its parts. Our particles and substance are being dissipated in very many fashions, i Chemically ami physically, we are in atate of continual break down; whilst, on the other band, it may be shown that the forces of life are enlisted powerfully on the side of renewal and repair. Sad Indeed.

The streets of almost any large city at. night present a spectacle more saddening, more pitiful, more fearful than any picture to be found in Dante's Inftrno. Beneath the gaslamp, from dark until long after midnight, wander unceasingly thousands of young girls. , Their eyes are fixed. They stalk like shadows. There is no merriment in their gait; no Joy, no peace, no happiness in their look. However well dressed, it is the same whlted sepulchre. For mile after mile these sad specters hurry along. At each side street they carry off their victims. Who are these desolate ones that fill the city witb tkeir ceaseless tramp? Do . they come forth at aight because they care not for the society of their fathers or or motherj or sisters ? Alas, no. These have do homes. Tbey are alone in a great world too busy to notice them or their misfortunes. Without a knoledge of the world, they are driven Into tbe midst of its vices, and forced to earn a living by the only means that is within their power. They know not the horrible abyss of shame, tbe amplitude of 8iitfering, the depth of the distress to which that first step leads, and so having begun, they are carried on by tbe swift current of crime about them. Da they ever seek to escape? They torn blindly for the means, but on every band they seem shut in by a high wall separating from tbe respectable world. There is no recourse, and so. year after year, tbey fall lower and lower, and their despair grows deeper, until death takes them for his own, and their poor bones are laid away in the potters' field. William renn" Deed 1'roin the Indians. This indenture witnesseth that we, Packenab Jaraooam, Sinkals. Parte guefatt, Jewis, Kspennock, Fclkroy, Hekellapan, Econus, Maehlona. Metcbcougha, Hlsa Powey, Indian kings, Sich makers, right owners of all lands from iuing QuDgis, called Chester creek, all along by west side of Delaware river, and so between the said creeks backwards as far as a man can ride in two days with n horse, for and in consideration of these following goods to us in hand paid by William Peno, proprietor and governor ot Pennsylvania and territories thereof, viz: 20 guns, 20 fathoms msthcoat, 20 pounds powder, 100 bars lead, 40 tomahawks, 100 knives. 40 pairs ot stockings, I barral of beer, 20 barrels of red lead, 100 fathoms of wampum, 50 glass bottles, 80 pewter spoons, 100 awl blades, 300 tobacco pipes, LOO banks of tobacco tongs, 20 steels, 200 Hints, 30 pairs of scissors, 80 combs, 00 looking glasses, 200 needles, one skipple of salt, 30 pounds of sugar, 5 gallons of molasses, 20 tobacco iMjxes, 1000 jewsharps, 20 hoes, 30 gimblets, 30 wooden screw boxes, 100 strings of beads, do hereby acknowledge, etc. Given nndcr our hands, etc.. at New Castle, second day of eighth month, 189. The above is a true copy from the original by Ephralm Morton, now living in Washington. Pa , formerly a clerk in the land office, which copy he gave to William Stratton.and from which the above was taken in Little York, this 7th day of December, 1813. Life Wltbont I.ove. Tllome and Farm. We sometimes meet with men who seem to think that any indulgence in an affectionate feeling is a weakness. They will return from a journey and greet their families with a distant dignity, and move among their children with the cold and lofty splendor of an iceberg surrounded by its broken fragments. There is hardly a more unnatural sight on earth than one of those families without a heart. A father bad better extinguish a bov's eyes than take away his heart. Wbo that has experienced the joys of friendship, and values sympathy and. affection, would not rather lose all that is beautiful in nature's scenery, than be robbed of the bidden treasures of bis heart? Cherish then vour heart's best affections. Indulge in tbe warm and gushing emotions of filial, paren tal and fraternal love. German Exebaaic "The other night," said a traveler, 'I got chatting with a German, and asked hi:n what he was doing." "Veil," he replied, "shoos t now, I'm doing nodings; but I've made arrangements to go S tto pizness." "What are you going into?" "Veil, I goes Into partnership mit a man." 'Do you put in much capital?" "No; I doesn't put In no gabital." "Don't want to risk it, eh?" "No; but I puts in de experience." "And he puts in the capital?" "Yes, uat is it. We goes into pizcess for dree year; he puts in the gapital, I puts in the experience. At de end ob de dree year I rill have do gabital, and he Till l ave de

BELIUIOI'S ISTELLIUEXCE.

Christian Warfare. Soldier, go but not to claim . Mouldering spoils of earth-born treasure, Not to build a vaunt hi name, Not to dwell in t-ntM of pleasure. Dream not that the way is Mtxtot !i ; Hoie not that the thorns are roses; Turn no wiMful eye of youth Where the unny Im-uiii re oses. Thou hast sterner work t- do, Hosts to cut thy passage i.b rough. Close Ix-hiiid the gulf are1 bin ning Forward! there is no returning. Soldier, rest but not for theo Spreads the world her downy pillow; On the roe It thy couch must le, While around thee chafes the billow. Thine must le a watchful sN-ep, Wearier than another's M aking; Such a chartce as thou dost keep Brooks no moment of forsaking. Sleep, aa on the battlefield. Girded Kraspimr sword tmd shield ; Those thou canst not name or number Meal upon thy broken slumber. Soldier, rise the war Is done; Lo! the hosts of hell are flying; Twaa thy Lord the battle won. JesoH vanquished them liy dying. Pass the streuiu Ijefore thee lies All the conquered land of glory. Hark! what songs of rapture rise! These proclaim the victor's story. Soldier, lay thy weapons down ; Quit the sword and take t lie crown. Triumph! all thy foes are banished, Death U slain, aud earth luu vaif isned. GENERAL NOTES. At a recent sacred Sunday concert in Boston the song most admired was one entitled "Don't tickle me." Preacher: "My little man, Is your father a Christian?" Boy: "Ye sir, but he ain't working at it much lately." There are now half a dozen female preachers in the Methodist church, but none have as yet been admitted to the itinerancy. When you hear a country church choir singing "There will be no more sorrow there," yon conclude at once that either the aforesaid choir will not be there, or they will not be permitted to sing. " A down east clergyman has be? n depulpitIzed on the charge of being "absolutely drunk." The reverend gentleman vehemently denies tbe allegation, but admits that he was "a little lewildered." While in Boston las: week Colonel Ingerfoll offered to meet any orthodox clergyman who believes in tbe Bib'c as an inspired work and ditcuts the same in Music ball at any time. He will pay the whole expenses if desired. The Southern Methodist conference received the Northern Methodist fraternal celegates with warmth. More conciliation, of course, in which the northern church learns that it must be more blessed to forgive than to be forgiven. The rector of a fashionable church in New York i -iforms his rich congregation that they musn't riae to Sunday service in their carriages. The reverend gentleman should first attack the small vices of his nock, and thus lead up to to momentous a reform as that which he has suddenly undertaken. Up to 1817 and to this hour, for aught we know to the contraryan act of parliament was in force in England imposing penalties for non-attendance at divine services on Sunday! unless absent to attend some other place of worship permitted by the toleration act of William and Mary. No one can fancy the feelings of a newspaper man when he hearc a delinquent subset ibe r whom be has but twenty-four hours before vainly implored to "settle that little bill," yell out on Sunday, "Pat me down $50 for the good of the caute," when thev are "raising the church debt." Hudson River Chronicle. Tbe Rev. Mr. rentecost explains tbe story that a "Mrs. Rogtrs, of Middletown, Conn., a lady known for her benevolence, has presented him with a bank book with a comfortable sum to his credit," by saying that the book was a certificate of deposit of five dollars, and that the bank that issued it is insolvent. The Methodist Episcojwil church extended society was organized in 1864, and has collected" in 12 years $1,161,51!). All this has been disbursed; a part of it $290,5.r0 in loans. The number of churches aided is 2.132. Tbe I'resbyteriaa board of church erection received for the year ending April 1, 1S77, $10G,242, ami made approptiations to 172 churches in 2 states and territories. The publications of the American tract society now includes two weekl y newspapers, two monthly magazines and two illustrated magazines for children, having an aggregate circulation of about 5: 000,000 Copies. The feriodical department is self-aupportingr. he society employes 23G colporteurs and distributes annually a supply of resding matter covering 74,123,5!).) pages and valued at $49,000. The Rev. Mr. G , of Stirling, remarked to one of bis bearers that he bad heard be was about to be married for the third time. The reverend gentleman added: "Tbey say, John, you're getting money with her; you did so on the last two occasions; vou'll get quite rich by the wives." "Dear sir," quietly responded John, "what wi' bringin them in, and puttin' them out, there's nae muckle made o' them." There was a little fellow who knew Mother Goose better than he did his bible. One SuDday be was asked in bis class, "Who were thrown into tbe fiery furnace?" That was too much for him. The question was passed ; the answer came promptly, "Snadrach, Meshack and Abednego." This was a mortification to the lit de fellow; ardwhen the next question carae, "Who put them in?" he answered with a jump, "Little Johnny Green!" A joint meeting of ministers of the Rockville and Greencastle districts of the Northwestern Indiana Methodist conference, Is to be held at Rockyille on the 27th of tbe present month. Tbe following exercises appear on the programme: "Instinct, experience and syllogism as the tests of truth," by Klder C. A. Brooke; "Are evangelists now a necessity, or are the old methods of revival work adapted to. our times?" by Rev. W. Mack. Darwood; "Revelation as given in sense, reason and conscience," by F. M. Parvey. Mr. Parkhurst, a Chicago Methodist clergyman, made a vehement assault the other day on Sunday papers. In the course of bis remarks he said: "Whatever may be said about tbe Puritan Sabbath, it should not be forgotten that under it were trained tbe men who rule to-day John V. Farwell, Marshall Field and C. B. Holmes, for instance, in our midst" The Cnicag) Tribune wickedly retorts that the "C. B. Holmes" in question is superintendent of the Southside City railway, the cars of wtich run seven days in the week, yea, even on "the Puritan Sabbath." It is said that Berlin is so ill provided with churches and clergymt n that there is only one of the latter to about every 8,500 of the people, but that that ttcse do not feel tbe inadequacy, not being at all inclined to church going. Berlin must be very unlike most of the .European capitals. Dresden, Vienna, Naples, Rome, Paris, Geneva, Brussels, have many more churches and clergymen than there seems to be any need for, sihee many of their churches are nearly

empty, the service totally failing to le attractive. The tame may be eaid of the large cities of this country. While a few preachers draw here, the majority appeal to very slender congregations, which appear to be diminishing lather than increasing all over the country. Fercons who feel a deep interest in tbe cause of orthodoxy, and who consider attendance upon church an evidence of righteousness and morality, are sorely troubled at the lukewit-mness of our people respecting religion, and anxious to discover some mans of instituting a thorough reform. Rt. Rev. Bishop Hendricken of Providence gave his people Sunday tome wholesale advice concerning savings bankc. He-showed that the depositors suffer mainly in a senseless run upon the savings banks, which might, however, cripple the best institutions. He also called attention to ths fact that Catholic churches in the city r.re largo borrowers of the savings banks, an vl a summary calling in of those loans would cause serious embarrassment. The Catholic clergy of New Kngland, by their action upon this subject, have done much to prevent panic and foolish fears from getting control of the community. From the first entrance into tbe ministry Latimer was esteemed a pestilent fellow they called him a "seditious fellow"' by unjust persons in authority; aad to sucn men he was ever, indeed, highly troublesome. At this early period his pteaching was so effective that it was even then said of it, "None except the stiff" necked and uncircumcised ever went away from it witfeout being afiVc'ed witb high detestation of sin, and moved to all godliness and virtue." An instance is related of bis early plainness of speech which is interesting as an illustration of his featlfss independence, and also because it attracted tbe attention of Cardinal Wolsey to him, and directly led to his future advancement. He was preaching before the university of Cambridge on a certain occasion, when the Bishop of Ely came into tbe church, curious to hear the young preacher. The bishop's entrance caused some stir, and Latimer paused till the prelate was seated and the commotion had subsided. When be recommenced he entirely changed the subject of his sermon, and instead of pursuing his original theme began to draw an ideal pictnre of what a bishop ought to be, the features of which were strik'ngly unlike those of his episcopal auditor. The bishop indignantly complained to' Wolsey, who sent for Latimer and inquired what be had said Latimer frankly repeated the substance of his sermon, whereupon other conversation followed, which showed Wolsey very clearly the nature of the man with whom he was speaking, and instead of responding to the bishop's accusations by silencing the audacious preacher, he gave him a license to preach in any church in Kneland, coupling it with the remark, "If the bishon of Ely can not abide such doctrine as you have repeated, you shall preach it to bis beard, let him say what he will." Can Fed Pork. Correspondence Country Gentleman. The opinion is quite general, if not universal, that corn fed pork is harder, contains more nutriment, and shrinks less in the spat and in the frying pans than pork fed on milk, slops, or partly on rlesh, as happens where swine are kept and fed in slaughter yards, and the food of which is more or leas the offal of slaughtered animals. Nevertheless the opinion is almost wholly an erroneous one, as we shall try to show. Granted that under a temperature so low that lard remains firm and stiff, com fed psrk is firmer than pork fed on milk, slops or flesh, but this firmness depends more on the relatively large amount of stearine than of oleic e in the composition of the fatty matter of corn-fed pork; but it is a firmness which is wholly lost at a high temperature, like that of summer heat, or the average of tropical weather. Where pork is made partly on milk slops or similar food, the oleine of that fat exceeds in quantity the stearine, and while the meat so made may at ordinary temperature appear soft and flabby, it really contains more nutriment that is, more albuminous matter and will shrink less iu cooking than cornfed pork. The cell tissues which envelop the fatty matter are very thin and ligbt, and consequently tender, and when beat is applied, either by boiling; or frying, cells burst, the lard escapes and the fleshy portion sinks to almost nothing. And this happens because com is very deficient to the substances which make cell tissue, that is, in albuminous matter. On the contrary, milk and slop are very rich in albuminous matter, and flesh is almost wholly composed of it, and consequently swine fed and fatened on these substances have cell tissues largely developed and where the lrd escapes in cooking there is a much larger portion of solid meat left. In the old country where swine are raised and fattened on peas and barley and the like, and where such a thing as an exclusive corn diet is. almost unknown, cooks make a great account of "lardiDg that is, cutting the tatty part of the pork: into long strips and sewing tbera into eertain meats and gime birds' previous to cooking, for the purpose of increasing their flavor and juices. With ordinary "larding' in the United States Is much restricted or gone out of fashion. In the case of foreign pork, its abundance and strength of celt tissues make it suitable for the operation; in the other the delicacy and tenderness of the substances renders it quite unfit for that purpose. As for illustrat'on of bow pjrticular kinds of food affect adiposa and ell tissues, it may be stated that the meat of hogs fattened on beechnuts and "mast" genera'ly, so far as the fat is concerned, is semi tiacsparent, and a slaughtered hog hung by the heels Will drip lard oil from the snout at an ordinary temperature. In candle burning days, the farmers and dwellers in the middle states learned that the tallow of graaa fatted beeves would make candles which would not run in midsummer; but the tallow of corn fatted cattle required to be hardened by the addition of alum, rosin or some other substance. Snort Word. Stick to short Saxon words. Do not say ft residence wben you, mean a bouse, or ask, where do you reside at present? when you mean where do you Jive now? Do not ransack your memory for long affectations when short words will serve your purpose. Say I hive been looking for the best hiir restorer in the world and nave found it in Carbolinc, a deodcrizd extract ot petroleum. It is a natural product of the earth, containing the elements required by the hair to feed upon. A few applications will show its restorative qualities. It is beyond all doubt the only article that will restore the color to the hair naturally and permanently. It performs what others only claim for their preparations. Is an e1e;ant Dressing, Restores the Hair on Ea'.d Heads, removes Dandruff, cleans the Scalp," prevents the hair from falling out, will not stain the skin, contains not a particle ot Lead, Silver. Sul-

C innr, or other deleterious drugs. For sala y all dealers in drugs and medicines. The general conference of the M. E. church south, in session at Atlanta, Georgia, passed a resolution to day declaring tt the duty and desire of the M. E. church south to do all in its power to cherish the educational interests of the colored people in the south, and pledging the church so to do.