Rensselaer Standard, Volume 1, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 August 1879 — Page 1

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THE LIVING TEMPLE JOHN WILLS How beautiful the Gothic arch, The graceful tap'ring spire, old, Of marvelous design. OFT have I gazed on such fane, Whose beauty seemed divine, And there beheld the surpliced priest Bring forth the breed and wine Memorials of that “Son of Man" Who lived and died, that we The secret of his life might learnIts inner mystery. Queried my soul: dwells not the Lord In an abode so fair? The clear toned, still small voice replied, "Not there, not there, not there." And then 1 felt, and then 1 saw, How vain each sacred rite— How God for symbols careth not, Nor in them takes delight. The living temple can alone Be the true house of prayer; The Temple God is building now, With living stones most fair. To It “the Joy of all the earth"— Shall countless hosts ascend. All nations tread its hallowed aisles, And at its alters bend. Beneath its dome, the pure in heart, The brave, the true, the free, Dwelling in love, shall walk In light. And thon in all things see. No sect shall there its creed rehearse, No shibboleth be known; Glory shall fill and flood its courts From love's supernal throne. Christian Register.

THE HIRED GIRL.

White and glistening like a mammoth bridal veil, the December sun lay over all the New Hampshire hills; dark and delicate, like the tracery of lace work, the leafless woods held up their boughs against the dazzling winter sky— and Rev. Peter Palmleaf, studying over the embryo sermon in his own special sanctum, glanced up where a black-bird was whistling in the casement, and thought to himself what a lovely world the Lord had made. When, all of a sudden, a shrill voice called through the entry: “Peter, the horse is ready.” “What horse?” asked Mr. Palmleaf. “Our horse, to be,sure,” said Miss Paulina, his sister. “ What for?” demanded the parson, staring through his near-sighted spectacles at the door. “To take you to Mr. Darrow’s.” “Why am I going to Mr. Darrow’s?” Well, I never!*' said Miss Paulina, bouncing into the study, with a yellow pocket handkerchief tied around her head, and her sleeves rolled, in a busi-ness-like fashion, up to her elbows. “Peter, you grow more mooney and absent-minded everyday of your life! Have you forgotten our discussion at the breakfast table? Why, you were going to Mr. Darrow’s after a girl, to be sure.”

“A —girl!” repeated the young minister, dreamily, rubbing his forehead. “Eh, I do recall something of the conversation. A hired girl.” “Yes.” nodded the tody, briskly, “she’s going to leave Mr. Darrow’s thm morning, because the family is so large and work so heavy. Site can’t flnalhat fault with our establishment, I guess. Ask her how much wages she wants, and how old she is, and ask her whether she has an"y followers—a follower is the one tiling I can't tolerate, tell her, aud he sure you bring her back, and her bundle. 1 must have a girl to help me beforeCousiu Phiiinda’s folks come back from tiie eity.” “But suppose she won’t i ome?” said the young miutoler, dubiously, fitting on the fingers of his gloves. “Then you must make her come,” said Miss Vaulina, hurriedly retreating to look after acertain kettle which was boiling over at the bock of tiie house. Ana thus charred with his mission. Rev. Peter I’almleaf got into the onehorse cutter and jingled merrily away. Dr. Darfow’s farm house nestled under a hill, in the protecting shadow of a cluster of evergreens, with a great fence in front of it, a red barn at the rear, and a perfect colony of covehouses at the sunny southern angle; and Mr. Darrow himself, a ruddyfaced elderly man, with a fringe of Ml bite whiskers around his chin, was shovelling awey the pearly masses of snow in front or the door. “Eb 4 said - Mr. Darrow, leaning on the handle of his spade, as the bells jingled up in front of the gate, and then stopped. “How! Why, it’s the minister! Good morning, Mr. Palmleaf—good morning. That there Sunday sermon of yours was a masterpiece. Me and 'Squire Sennex ” “Yes,” said Mr. Palmieaf, leisurely alighting and tying the horse to the post. “But I have called on business tida morning.” For Mr. Ifalmleaf was a man of oue idea, and for the time Being the “hired girl” had chased all the theology out of his head. “Ehr’ said Mr. Darrow, “busiptoS.” “I’ve come after a young woman.” said the minister.

Mr. Darrow dropped his spade in the middle of a snow-drift. ‘•Do you mean Dolly?*’ he said. “If that’s her name —yes,” answered the minister, solemnly. “You don’t mean that—its to be an engagement,” cried Mr. Darrow. “Well yes —that is, if we suit each other,” said Mr. Palm leaf, mildly. “Jerusalem!” said Mr. Darrow, who Had always heard that Mr. Palm leaf, like most men of genius, was an ••eccentric,” but had never realised it before. “Have you spoken to her?*’ “Certainly not!” answered Mr. Palm leaf. “Of course I shouldn’t think of such a thing without seeiug you first.” “Very straightforward of you, I’m sure,” said the former. “But of course, 1 can have no objection If Dolly herself is suited. Though—” and he smote one red-mitted band upon his knee —“now I come to thiuk of it, you've never seen Doily.” . “No!” said the minister. “But that need make no difference.” “Je-rusalem!” again cried the farmer. ' “It wasn’t the way I looked at tilings when I was young.” “Tastes differ,” said Mr. Palm leaf, a little Impatlept at the long discussion. “Can I see the young woman T’ “Oh, of course you can see her,” said Mr. Darrow. “She is in the dairy skimming milk. Dolly! Dolly!” raising his voice to a bellow, here’s the Rev. Mr. Palmleaf wants to see you! There’s the door, just to the left, sir.”

THE RENSSELAER STANDARD.

VOL I.

And, in his near-togMsd way.the minister stumbled into Former parrow’s dairy, where a r'wy eheekedglrl, with jet black hair, brushed away from a low, olive-dark brow, and eyeeiJHke pearls or sherry vine, was skimming the cream from multitudinous milk pans into a huge stone pot. “Y|ung woman,” said Mr. Palmieaf, turning his spectacles upon her amazed face, ■‘do von want to engage yourself.’*j “»r?” said Dolly, her spoon coming to an abrupt standstill, amid toe Winkled aud leather like folds of tbecrfam on a patieolar pan. “In other words,” explained Mr.* Palmieaf, “do you want a good h on*?’’ “Indeed, sir, I never thought of sinch a thing,” said Dolly in a flurry. | “How okl are you?” questioned Mr. Palmieaf. “I am eighteen,” said Dolly, in sepme confusion. “Havs you any followers?” “Sir?” saW Dolly. “Beaux, I mean,” elaborately tex-. plain the clergyman. “Of course I haven’t,” said Dolly, half inclined to beangiy. “Then I think you’ll suit me,” s*id Mr. Palmieaf; “or rather my sister. Our family Isn’t large; the washing is light, and Pauline is a most considerate mistress. Get your bundle.” “My—what?” said Dolly, in bewilderment. “Your clothes. I am to take vbu back with me immediately,” said Mr. Pvimleaf. “Pauline expects company. It Is essential that we have help|at once.” Dolly Darrow looked up with cheeks crimsoned like any rose, eyes fulUpf deep, brown sj arkles, and arou|d which danced a perfect galaxy dimples. “Wait a minute,” said she. “Certainly,” said M r - Palmieaf. f And he sat down on a wooden sU|ol a! tiie corner, and fell to meditating on Ihe “thirdly” of his uncompleted sqrmon, while DoUy sped up the stai|*, three at a time. “Father,” cried she, flying into tie firesence of her parents, “the mintohr ias mistaken me for Bridget” “Eh?” said Mr. Darrow. “You don’t tell?” said Mrs. Darrow. “And he wants to hire me,” said Dolly, with eyes gleaming with sup. “And I’m going! Quick —where's u|y hat, and my shawl, and mufflers?” g Mrs. Darrow rose up and in all tne majesty of black silk gown aud goff watch chain — sj “Dorothy Darrow,” said she, “you’le never going to hire out as a servant#’ “Yes, I am,” said Dolly. “It’s better than private theatricals. He’s t#> aud absent-minded, and Miss Pauline is a jewel! Oh, do make haste, or he’# be tired ol waiting.” And Dolly succeeded in carrying he| point. Fifteen minutes later she go| into the sleigh with a big bunalej) which Mr. Palmieaf stowed snugly un§ der the seat, and the minister drove j home with secret exultation. Miss Pauline was in the kitchen; fry! iug sausage for dinner, when Dorothy Darrow walked iu, with cheeks of carl nation hair down over her face, ancf the bundle uniter her arm. “Hear F ani Miss Palmieaf,” she said. “The hired help at your ser| vice.” Miss Palmieaf started. “Why, it’s Dorothy,” said she; “anif I sent Peter after Bridget.” “Yes, I know,” said Dolly, brightly! “But Bridget was gone, aud he niisf to<>k me for her, and he has engaged ine to work here. And, oh Miss Pau}ina, don’t undeceive him, because «I am a smart little housekeeper, aud Jl can help you just as much as any gifl could. Just give me atrial, that’s allj’ Miss Paulina had a shrewd appreciation of a joke; her hard features relu|e<l with a smile, sis she stood lookup down at the radient little brunette. §

“Weil,” Haul »he, “I doy’t mind ifil do.” For one month Dorothy • Darn* / officiated os hired girl atlheparsonag . Then she caiue to the clergymen otie , day: “Mr. Palmleaf.'’ said she, “I’m going to leave the place.” Mr. Palmleaf looked up In amazement and dismay. “I hope, Dolly,” said he, “neither J nor my sister have unwittingly offended you?” “No,said Dolly, patting her little foot on the staring green leaves in th| sturdy carjtet; “but, oh Mr. Palmleaf I have done so wrong and I do earrf estly beg your pardon.” I » “Dolly !” cried out the Reverend Peter in surprise. i “Betause you are good and true,l sobbed the girl; “and I’m not a hired girl, and I only came for a joke, and | can’t'bear to think I’m de-deceiving you!” • And Dolly began to cry piteously bes himl the corner of her apron. “You came here for a joke, eh?” said the minister. “Y-yes,” confessed Dolly behind her ► apron. “Well, then,” said the minister,geu-j tly drawing her toward him, “suppose; you stay in earnest.” “Sir!” faltered Dollv. “My dear,” said klr. Palmleaf, “]| have got used to having you aroundi and I should miss you terribly if you! should leave us. Do you think I am| too old to think of a blooming young wife like you?” /■. “Not a bit!” cried Dolly, indignantly. ‘Old—yo!” ‘ “Do you like me a little bit?” “A great deal,” said Dolly, laughing and blushing. I “Then you will stay with me always?” And Dolly promised that she would. Everybody wondered how so bashful a man as Rev. Mr. Paimleaf ever mustered courage for a proposal; but nobody knew that the “engagement” befor a joke and turned out in sober earnest. •. - -

The American “Pretty Girl.”

The following portrait of one of our country-women in Europe which occurs in Mr. Henry James’ new Scribner novelette, “Confidence,” will be recognised by many on both sides of the water ms drawn from the life: She was simply the American pretty girl, whom he had seen a thousand times. It was a numerous sisterhood, pervaded by a strong family likness. This young lady had charming eyes (of the color of Gordon’sera vats) which looked everywhere at once and yet found tune to linger in some places, where LonguevUie’s own eyes frequently met them. Bhe had soft brown hair, with a silky-golden thread in it, beautifully arranged and crowned by a 1 smart little hat that savored of Paris.

RENSSELAER, INDIANA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 23, 1879.

’She had also m slender little figure, neatly rounded, and delicate, narrow hands, prettily gloved. She moved abbot a great deal in her plaee, twisted her little flexible body and tossed her bead, fingered her hair and examined the ornaments of her drees. She had a great deal of conversation, and she expressed herself with extreme frankness and decision. He asked her. to begin with, if she had been long at Baden, bat the impetus of this question was all she required. Turning her charming, conscious, coquettish little face upon him. she instantly began to chatter. “I have been here about four weeks. I don’t know whether you call that long. It doesn’t seem long to me, I have had such a lovely time. I have met ever t-o many people here I know—every day some one turns up. Now you have turned up to-day.” “Ah, but you don’t know me,” said Longueville, laughing. “Well, I have heard a great deal about you I” cried the young girl, with a pretty little stare of contradiction; “I think you know a great friend ofmtne, Mins Eila Maclane, of Baltimore. She’s traveling in Europe now.” Longueville’s memory did not Instantly respond to this signal, but he expressed tiiat rapturous assent which the occasion demanded, and even risked the observation that the young lady from Baltimore was very pretty. "She’s far too lovely,” his com panion went on. “I have often heard her speak of you. I think you know her sister rather better than you know her. She has not been out very long. She is lust as interesting as sue can be. Her hair comes down to her feet. She’s traveled in Norway. She has been everywhere you can think of, and she’s going to finish off with Finland. You can’t go any further than that, can you? That’s one comfort; she’ll have to turn round and come back. I want her dreadfully to come hack to Baden-Baden.” “I wish she would,” said Longueville. “Is she traveling alone?” “Oh, no. They’ve got some Englishman. They say he’s devoted to Ella. Every one seems to have an Englishman, now. We’ve got one here, Captain Lovelock, Captain Augustus Lovelock. Well, they’re awfully handsome.. Ella Machine is dying to come home to Baden-Badeu. I wish you’d write to her. Her father and mother have got Borne idea in their heads; they think it’s improper— what do you call it? —immoral. I wish you’d write to her and tell her it isn’t. I wonder if they think that Mrs. Vivian says she would take her in a moment; she doesn’t seem to care how many she has. 1 declare, she’s only too kind. You know I’m*in Mrs. Vivian’s care. My mother’s gone to Franzensbad. She would let me go with Mrs. Vivian anywhere, on account of the influence —she thinks so much Of Vivian’s influence. I have always heard a great deal about it, haven’t you? I must say it’s lovely; it’s had a wonderful effect upon me. I don’t want to praise myself, Dut it has. You ask Mrs. Vivian if I haven’t been good. I have been just as good as I can be. I’ve been so peaceful, I’ve lust sat here this way. Do you call this immoral? You are not obliged to gamble if you don’t want to. Ella Maclane’s father seems to think you get drawn iu. I know what you’re going to say —you’re going to say I’ve been drawn out. Well, I have, to-night. We just sit here so quietly—there’s nothing to do but to talk. We tnake a little party by ourselves—are you going to belong to our party? Two of us are missing—Miss Vivian and Captain Lovelock. Captain Lovelock has gone with her into the rooms to explain the gambling— Miss Vivian always wants everything explained. lam sure I understood it the first time I looked at the tables. Haveyou ever seen Miss Vivian? She’s very much admired, she’s so very unusual. Black hair’s so uncommon—l see you’ve got it too —but I mean for young ladies. I am sure oue sees everything here. There’s a woman that comes to the tables—a Portuguese countess —who has hair that is positively hlue. I can’t say I admire it when it comes to that shade. Blue’s my favorite color, but I prefer it in the eyes,” continued Longueville’s companion, resting upon him her own two brilliant little specimens pf the tint. He listened with that expression of clear amusement which is not always an indication* of high esteem, but which even pretty chatterers, who are not the reverse or estimable, often prefer to masculine inattention; and while he listened Bernard, according to his wont, made his reflections. He said to himself that they were two kinds of pretty girls—the acutely conscious and the finally unconscious. Mrs. Vivian’s protegee was a member of the former category; she belonged to the genus coquette. We all have our conception of the indispensable, and the indispensable, to this young lady, was a spectator; almost any male biped would serve the purpose. To her spectators she addressed, for the moment, the whole volume of her being— addressed It in her glances, her attitudes, her exclamations, in a hundred little experiments of tone and gesture and position. And these rustling artifices were so innocent and obvious that the direction o! her desire to be well with her observer became in itsself a grace; it led Bernard afterward to say to himself that the natural vocation and metier of little girls for whom existence was but a shimmering surface, was to prattle and ruffle their plumage; their view of life and its duties was as simple and superflci&l as that of an Oriental bayadere.

Gladness.

Bishop of Rochester In Good Words. Now I say, and distinctively as a Christian teacher, that joy is reasonable and becoming and necessary and unspeakably helpful. Reasonable, for it is one of the perfections of Qod; and man, being made in the image of Qod, may be expected to resemble Him in it. We observe it in • thousand tilings: the song of the birds, the mirth of children, the instinct of humor, the cheek dimpling into a smile, the soul’s glee expressing itself in laughter; here are but a few of the signs that joy is a faculty of man. And if becoming in all of us, how charming and suitable is it in the young! As our years grow, and our memory becomes charged With anguish, and the setons of sorrowful associations give us quick twists of pain, and down the bill we travel to the river at the foot, with but few of those who climbed it in our company, or even stood with us on the summit, joy is not so quick or so unmlxed as once it was; even ftrheu we take it, the

oM q»rM. Kemsgone. JtlUttV ’ but not the gladness, of youth. But the young, for whom life has but fear cares, otuiscieuoe but few memorV but few disappointment*, judgment hot few problems, behind it childhood. 2nd in front manhood, with the grandeur of enterprise and the wine of hope, joy is i ot only natural but suitable. Ajjyoung thing) are full of toy; and Hewu made them means them to be. TboMirden* are at hand, and will be here soon enough. Do not has ten them. \Do not wise to bear them till they oome. And this it is which not only makes joy neoessary, but also explains the abundance and excess of it, which tells us how it to that not so mnch for middle age, oppressed with its sombre and fatiguing commonplaces, not for old age, with its work done and its dismissal near, but for S‘i, vigorous and buoyant, joy to so and so brisk. It to to help the young to grow, and to make their start, and to bear their disappointments, and to part with their illusions, and to face their discipline, and to remedy their mistakes. The little baric to on the shore, and it needs a vigorous shove to push It into the water, and then a steady breeze to fill the sails and float it out over the bar into the deep sea. And this is what joy does, and nothing else like it. making the will vigorous, the heart nouyant, coloring the imagination in the hues of the trobics, and cajoling the reason into mistaking the possible for the real.

Bismark’s Personal Appearance.

W. D. Kelly in Plilladephla Times. As the clock struck 2 the carriage of Mr. White entered the oourtyanl of Prince Bismark’s official residence, which, fronting on , Wilhelm strasse, surrounds three sides of a triangle. As we entered his room, Blsmark advanced and put me atease by the cordiality of his greeting. His personal appearance was a surprise to me. Portraits, busts aud statues had made me familiar with his face and head, but bad not told me that his height is more than six feet three, aud that his frame to broader than was that of General Scott, to whom in all physical respects, except iu the contour of his face aud head, he bears a closer resemblance than any man I have ever seen. Having turned his back upon the broad table, on which, from the papers spread uj on it, it was evident he bad been at work, he remarked that he was not so vigorous as formerly and could work but five hours a day at his desk, though be ought to work sixteen, and proceeded, with the easiest familiarity, to tell us how his habit of working far into the morning, and the pre-occupation of his thoughts by practical questions had made it impossible for him to sleep in the quiet hours of the night. “The silence that follows midnight is,” said he, “terrible. It wakens all the evil spirits of my mind; they lead me into phantasies, and to escape them I get up and walk or read or write. On many such occasious 1 have anticipated debates, and supposed what would be said in Opposition and what I would say in reply, and fearing that I would not remember my thoughtsand words, which seemed so effective, having risen and carefully written them out. But I have never once found them of use. They were always too fine to be available among practical men, and the paper aud peu which are always beside mv bed nave been useless and wasted. When the noises of the day begin I fall fast asleep and sleep till 11 o’clock, sometimes till 12 aud even 1 o’clock. At my home in the country I would not, 1 think, sleep any. but that the great burden trains, with three engines and more than 100 wagons, pass each other on a railroad about 300 feet from my house, and during this time, soothed by the noise, I go to sleep.”

A Plucky Mormon Wife.

Missouri Republican. Some of the Mormon first-wives are plucky and resolutely make no concessions whatever to polyagmy. Libbie Canfield, the daughter of Presbyterian parents in Philadelphia, married John W. Young, the oldest son of Brigham, and went with him to Salt Lake. Before she consented to marry the son of the Prophet she stipulated with him that she was to be his only wife and he agreed to the arrangement. They lived for years happily, he kept his word, and their family was increased by four boys named severally Brigham, Richard, John and “Tot,’’ the baby. She also feathered her nest well by securing in her own right a large and productive farm in the vicinity of Salt Lake City. When Brigham Young was dying he decreed that his son should take another wife. The Morman Apostles subsequently confirmed this decree, and John W. Young obeyed. This was thought to be necessary in order to show that he was a true desciple of the Morman faith. He thus made a sacrifice of his wife on the altar of obedience. She left him immediately and retired to her farm with her boys, who remain in her custody—the free-will gift of their father. Lately Libbie Canfield has been visiting her relatives and friends in Philadelphia and Newark, N. J. She is a bright and beautiful woman, fully resolved upon her course. Her husband has never troubled her since they separated good friends, and the Morman Church has kepts its hands off. Young is now living in Arizona with his second wife, with whom he never appears in public. Under their mutual agreement he still evidently regards Libbie Canfield as his only wife, and she knows it, and pities him rather than condemns. He is not happy, and can’t help himself. She often visits her Eastern friends now, and he sends her money in case she may need it. She personally manages her farm, and has just returned to it to superintend the shipment of wool from her thousands of sheep. She will go East again next fall and after the usual call upon her friends will sail for Europe to winter.

The Louisville Courier-Journal has this story: “Uncle” Abe Renick, living near Winchester, in this State, who owns a herd of the finest short-horn cattle in the world, occasionally kills for beef one of his Rose of Sharon heifers that he might easily sell for $1,000 each. He is able to afford it, and perhaps he is the only man in the world who eats beef that costs him from $1.50 to $2 a pound. It is estimated that 6,000 colored refugees have arrived in Kansas since the exodus began.

FREEMASONRY IN ENGLAND.

Installation of Prmoe Leopold, of England, as Master of the Lodge of Antiquity. New York Herald. Prince Leopold, of England, has beeu installed at the Freemason’s hall, London, as the Master of the Lodge of Antiquity. This event gives the London limes an excuse for an interesting editorial on the subject of Royal and notable Freemasons. It seems that the office which Prince Leopold now fills was worthily filled by his great unde, the Duke of Sussex, for thirty-four years. This association with a royal personage to not, however, the only one of the greatest distinction of the Lodge of Antiquity. William 111 was Initiated into Masonry in this Lodge, which then bore the name of St Paul’s, and in which Sir Christopher Wreu officiated as Master for eighteen years. It received from him what to both a treasure and a curiosity—that to, the mallet or gavel used by Charles II to lay the foundation stone of St. Paul’s Cathedral, and formed out of a piece of wood of the original structure. He also save It a fragment of the stone of the Roman temple which stood on the site of the present Cathedral, and which was dug up when the foundations were laid. That Freemas >nry, substantially the same as that now which exists, was practiced in this country as far back as the time of Henry VI to by no means improbable. It has been surmised that

the King himself was a member of the Order, though nothing more is proved in support of this than that he left behind him a manuscript containing certain parts of Masonic ritual. The existence of such a Lodge as that of Antiquity, working under an immemorial constitution, and over which Sir Christopher Wren presided as Master, carries back. the Order in this country to a period sufficiently remote to satisfy any reasonable person, and even to endow it with an archseelogical status. However well founded the doubts may be as to the right of Freemasons to claim an ancient origin for their order. it is indisputable that the order itself is widely diffused over the earth and wields an extended power. Not long ago we published ‘ some statistics on this subject, and these figures could not fail to produces strong impression. There is no civilized country in which many Masonic Lodges c»n not be found, and the more civilized the couuRussia is the only nation concerning which no Masonic statistics are forthcoming, the reason being that in Russia Freemasons have long shared with Jews the antipathy and condemnation of those in authority. Nowhere do Freemasons abound more than in the United States, and nowhere are they now held in higher honor; yet there was a time when they were the opprobrium of citizens of the North American Republio. When Mias Martineau visited the United States and wrote her “Society in America” she found the Masonic Order the object of general denunciation and antipathy. A curious aud interesting list might be compiled of the distinguished persons who have been Freemasons. Many men of note have been active members of the order. The supposition that Cardinal Wolsey presided over a lodge may be classed among authenticated stories. There is evidence in favor of Baean being a Freemason, which every understanding reader can gather from a perusal of his “New Atlantis.” An'ingenious attempt has been made to prove that Shakespere belonged to the craft; but, then, what to there that Shakespere has not been credited with having done? Most of our countrymen of note during the last and the present century are known to have been Freemasons, In Prussia the Great Frederick was not only a Freemason, but was the head of the order; both the German Emperor and the Crown Prince have followed the example set them by the illustrious consolidator of the Prussian realm. Germany numbers such men ; as Lessing, Herder, Fichte and Goethe . in the Masonic ranks. The latter, like his brother poet Burns, employed his ! poetical talents in celebrating the mer- 1 its of the order. Late in life Noltaire became a Freemason, and the majoriSy of noteworthy Frenchmen since his ay have also been members of the Fraternity. It is supposed, not without reasou, that the Masonic Lodges were instrumental in fostering the first revolution of France. Not long ago. the Grand Lodges in the country and the United States, severed their connection with that of France on the ground that the totter had expunged from the formula of initiation the expression of belief in a Diety. Indeed, the French have always beeu disposed to practice Freemasonry after a fashion of their own.

They even turn the lodge meeting to a very practical purpose—that of promoting great engineering enterprises. Mr. Dittre, being recently mentioned among those persons who deserve credit for setting on foot a scheme for piercing the Isthmus of Panama, declared in explanation that the project had recently been conceived in the Lodge of Clemente-Amitie, of which he became a member in 1876. So far as hss been showp, the five or six million Freemasons who inhabit the earth have never deserved the denunciations which the head of the Roman Catholic church has often leveled against them. Notwithstanding the condemnation of successive Popes the order flourishes in such purely Roman Catholic countries §s France, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Belgium, Mexico, and Brazil. In France there are 287 lodges; in Spain, 300; in Portugal, 22; in Italy, 110; in Belgium, 16; in Mexico, 13, add in Brazil, 265. In the United Kingdom there are nearly two thousand lodges, while in the United States the number nearly reaches ten thousand. During the worst days in English history, when parliament in a frenzy of terror passed laws against secret societies, the society of Freemasonry was speedily exempted. The act of 1799 exempts the lodges of Freemasons from the pains and penalties inflicted upon United Englishmen, Soots men. Britons and Irishmen, doing so on the ground that masonic meeting are in a great measure directed to charitable purposes. The act of 1817, which was intended to carry out the intent of 1799 more effectual, specifically exempts Freemasons and Quakers from its operation. Indeed, those persons who have semi the palatial establishments for the education of the sons and daughters of Freemasons, and the asylums for the okl

aad destitute which are maintained by the English Freemasons, cannot doubt the order amply justifies its existence in the country. When our Royal Princes, says the Times, associate themselves with Freemasonry they not only follow an excellent family example, but they perform duties which can not but heighten their popularity. In undertaking to discharge the active Amotions of Master of the Lodge on Antiquity Prince’Lepold will certainly receive the thanks of all the Freemasons who glory in a lodge which to the center of many venerable and cherished traditions of the craft.—[New York Herald.

TH SALE OF LANDS.

Unusual Activity in the MarketVast Numbers Looking to the Soil aa a Means of Bettaring their Condition. Texas, which- sold in the first year after the panic but 1,333,000 acres to actual settlers, sold 3,800,000 acres iu 1878, and there to every reason to believe that the sales of theJttete during the twelve months, covered by the returns of the United States, amounted to 4,000.000 acres. The sales by the principal railroads in the country were, in the calendar years immediately after the panic, from 400,000 to 600.000 acres yearly. They rose to 1 000,000 in 1877, and 2,550,000 acres in 1878. Partial reports and the rate of increase makes it {irobable that the sales in the year endng June 80 were at least 8,000,000 acres. Extremely incomplete returns in regard to the sale of land on behalf of States exist, but judging from the fragmentary returns for 1878 the sales in the last twelve months may be safely estimated at 500,000 acres. These estimates, all based on actual returns for the first six months of the year include in the annual return of tiie General Land Offloe, make the total amount of public lands sold at least 13,500,000 acres, of which it is known that threefourtns was sold to small holders; and it to probable that nine-tenths was. Lands are sold in larger quantities to settlers under the Texas land law and by the railroads than under the Homestead act, so that no accurate data exist for an estimate of the number of single purchasers interested in these rates; probably not less than 77,000, making an addition of almost 500,000 to the population of the West in the past year. As for the total amount of acres purchased, it about equals in area New. Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut. Grouping all the accessible returns of land sales for the previous year (ending June 30, 1878), we find them to be: Government homestead entries, 4,500,000 acres; Texas, 3,500,000 acres, railroads, 1,250,000 acres; from State giants, 250,000 acres—the last three estimated—and the total sales amount to 9,500,000 acres. During the last twentyfour months accordingly the sales of land in the West have amounted to fully 23,000,000 acres. The total area of the farming lands in this country was placed by the census of 1870 at 400,000,000 acres, less than half of which were improved. The additions made to this area, judging fron the land sales down to 1877, were not larger, certainly not over 20,000,000 acres, so that the increase in the tost two years, and much the larger part of it in the last twelve months, has added 5 per cent to the farming lands of the country. If these lands add in time in the same proportion to the demand for labor of those engaged in farming occupations, they will need the services of 600,000 persons, men and women, young and old, employed on farms in one capacity and another.

The Purpose of Inspiration.

Rev. J. E. Lindholni In Sunday Afternoon for Ang. What is the end and purpose of inspiration? To make great truth known to men that shall profit them for discipline, for instruction in all the provinces of life. “There is a spirit In man and the inspiration of the almighty ' giveth it understanding.” What kind of understanding does inspiration give j according to Scripture? Every kind > treedful for human progress. If theologians, poets, artists, scholars, philosophers, inventors are to day sometimes and justly spoken of as inspired, even sp did inspiration make Bezaleel and Aholiab skillful architects; “the spirit mightily moved” Othniel, Gideon, Jephtha, Samson, and made, them as he made Washington, valorous generals. The matter of inspiration is great, edifying and saving truth. “Hear O Is real, the Lord our God to one Lord.” “God is not a man that he should lie.” “We are also God’s offspring.” “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have nut charity, I am become sounding brass, or a sounding cymbal.” “We know in part.” “Honor all men.” “Do good unto all men.” “The Lord loveth righteousness, His countenance will behold the thing that is just.” “His eye to purer than to behold iniquity.” But ou this evident point we will not dwell. As we consign some writing to the waste basket and flame because it does not contain truth, but platitude and twaddle, so did the maturing judgment of the church deal with the writings of her children. What was tame and destitute of force, or prolix and wearisome, as was the epistle of the Apostle Barnabas, was in time rejected and left to molder.

Drifted Together for a Moment

5mIit111« Americas. While walking around the public square yesterday, Mrs. Johnson, who is visiting here, her residence being in Pulaski, and Sam. Owens accidentally met ana recognized each other. They were married before the war, and had been separated. Owens suggested: “Let’s kiss,” but Mr. Johnson who Just then came along, demurred—“Oh, no, you don’t kiss my wife.” Owens said to her: “I have long thought you dead, and have only recently remarried.” “And I have long though you were dead,” said Mrs. Johnson, “and I now have a house full of children.” There wss nothing more to be said after this, and the parties went their respective ways. 1 A memoir of Beaoonsfieki has just made its appearance in London, bearing on its title page the following quoit&tion from Artemus Ward as a motto: “He asked me what was my prinserpuls. MI ain’t got eny, r I said; ‘nota prineurpul; I’m in the show badness.”

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NO. 10.

j. , • .!" , Are book-worms good for bait? Doesn’t come a-mtas—A boy baby. A man in Venioe, 111., has christened his cat “Othello, or the Mewer of Venice.” . . •. A Nevada bedbug bit a man on the lip, aud both bug aud man died from the effects of iu Tiie doctor didn’t know which to post-mortem on. ] An Irishman, who was drinking the health of a bishop, gave this toast: "May your rivirence live to eat the old hen that crows over your grave!” The fool goeth out in a sailboat when he doesn’t knows boom from.a breaker, but the wise man picks up pebbles on the shore and flirts with the girl in a pink dress. A woman may be brave enough to refuse a tramp a piece of pie. aim yet at the Amt flash or lightning in an approaching thunder sterna go into hysterics of fear. . A Cheyenne Indian who was killed in the recent fight was called Medicine Stand. He wouldn’t have been killed if he had hired himself out as a drug store on Coney Island. “This,” said the dentist, “to my offloe.” “And that?” inquired a visitor, pointing to the apartment where stood a tooth-pulling chair. “Ah, that,” reSled the proprietor, “tiiat to my drawg room.’’

Here lies John Bhaw, Attorney-at-law And when he died The devil cried: “Give neyonr paw, ' ! - ; ' John Bhaw, Attorney-at-law.” A mother, noticing her little daughter wipe her mouth with her dress sleeve, asked her what her handkerchief was for. Bald the little one: “It is to shake at the ladies in the street. That is what papa does with his.” , A bright little raise of Napa, Cal., noted for her quaint sayings, said to her mother the other day, "Mamma, wheu you went to heaven to get me did you pick out the prettiest baby on God’s floor?” Of course mamma said y®B- - fear a brake will break, ’ O thou railroad traveler! For a brake ts made to brake— Break it won’t, thon cavller. When a brake doth brake It breaks not; When It breaks It eannot brake; Whether It doth brake or brakes not, Never, never doth it break. A, good deal of satisfaction is expressed here over the fate of Dr. Spencer, a dentist, recently shot dead for kissing a woman in Mississippi, while she was under the influence us ether. Women want to know It when they are kissed, and the fool who does not appreciate the fact ought to die. ; The game laws should be amended some more. It to all right to impose a fine for shooting game out of season, but what is wanted now is a clause inserted to enable a man to shoot came aiid catch fish in season. We have found it easy enough not to shoot game out of season. To kill it in season to what bothers us. They sent a goose over Niagara Falls the other day to see how she would take it, and when she rose to the surface of the river below she looked up as if saying: "You thluk you’re awful smart, don’t you?” A woman raised to the third power of widowhood has the photographs, of her three departed lords in a group, with a vignette of herself in the center, and underneath is the inscription, “The Lord will provide.”

London Times. Wheu the number representing any B'ven year is even and exactly divisieby three, that year is the middle one of three cold and wet Summers. When the number representing the year is odd and divisible by three, then that year is the middle of a triad of dry and not Summers. For example, 1860 is even and divisible by three, and the prevailing characteristics of the three years 1869, 1860, 1861 was wet, or wet and cold; and again, 1868 is odd and divisible by three and everybody remembers 1862, 1868, and 1864 as bright, hot and dry Summers. Taking now a range of twenty-seven years over which my own personal Observations extend, and applyiug the rules just given, the wet ana cold t raids were 1853-’55, 1859-’6l, 1871-»73 and 1877-’79, while the hot and dry trakls were 1856-’SB, 1862-’64, 1868-’7l and 1874- r 76; and without claiming that no single year broke loose from this very order of seasons, I fearlessly maintain that all the markedly wet or dry Summers of the past twenty-seven years accurately within some wet or dry periiod as given above; so that no very wet year falls in what should have been a dry period, nor any Very dry year in wbat hypothetically was a wet' period. The number 1881 is odd and divisible by three: if there is anything in my theory, that year ought to be the middle one in a triad of hot and dry Summers. lam looking forward, therefore, with much confldenoe to a good Summer in 1880, followed by two similarly good ones in 1881 and 1882, and for the sake of every interest in the country, I earnestly hope my expectation- may not be disappointed.

Cincinnati Commercial. - May 29th, 1826, LaFayette, the French Republican who very material-, ly assisted in making America a land of freedom, visited Cincinnati. The occasion of his visit was made a grand holiday; A deputation of prominent citizens was sent down on a steamboat to meet the distinguished visitor, and the two steamboats containing the committee and the illustrious guest, came up the river lashed together. Cannon thundered, bands played and the people shouted themselves hoarse. Chi landing LaFayette was received by the Governor and a large procession of military mid citizens. At night the city was illuminated, and a grand ball was given at the Cincinnati Hotel, which was attended by the elite of the infant American Paris. Lafayette was described as being a tall man, slightly bent in form, with his gray hair tied back. He was then accompanied by his son, George Washington. One of the pleasing incidents of his visit was his meeting with old Mother Monhank, a German woman who had nursed him during his captivity at Olmuts. The aged warrior clasped the wrinkled old woman lovingly around the neck and kissed her many times in the presen oe of the assembled multitude.

CONDIMENTS.

A New Weather Theory.

A Story of LaFayette.