Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 November 1875 — Page 3

RENSSELAER UNION. HORACE E. JAMES, Propri.tor. RENSSELAER, ... - INDIANA.

KISAGOTAMI. rnon buddhaghosha’s “parables.” Kisagotami, clasping to her breast Her boy just dead, and with strange fear possessed, Ran through the streets, besieging every door For some rare balm his lost life to restore; Until her neighbors, at this frantic grief, For which the world itself has no relief, Began to say: “ The girl has lost her head— What medicine is that which cures the dead?" But one more wise, and taking pity’s part, Offered this solace to her aching heart: “Dear girl, I cannot proffer you much joy, But there’s a doctor who will help your boy.” Asking his name, the girl was straightway sent To good Gotama, and to him she went. “ Good master, aid me, for I hear it said You have the power to raise my child that’s dead.” The Buddha answered: “Isl do this deed, ’Tis needful you procure some mustard-seed “ Found in a house where neither groom nor bride, Parent nor child, nor man nor maid, has died.” Then, with her child still clasped about her waist, From house to house, a weary round she paced On her sad errand—but could cross no door Where Death’s dark shadow had not passed before, One voice forever on her pathway flew: “The dead are many, but the living few.” So, when Gotama asked if she had brought The mustard-seed, so long and vainly sought, She said: “ I have it not—each way I sped I found but few were living, many dead.” And Buddha answered: “ True enough, most true, Death comes to all, as it has come te you.” So fled her grief, and seeing in the night, At every house, a bright or fading light, She said: “Our human lives are just the same, First an uprising, thep a dying flame; “ Never on earth will such mutations cease. But after death come rest and endless peace.” —Appletons' Journal.

THE TWO NEIGHBORS.

One evening, as the twilight was dusking into deeper shades, Farmer. Welton stood in hrs door-yard with a gun in his hands, and saw a dog coming out from his shed. It was not his dog, for his was of a light color, while tins was surely black. The shed alluded to was open in front, with double doors for the passage ofcarts, ' and a wicket for pedestrians at the back; and this shed was a part of a continuous structure connecting the barn with the house. Around back of this shed was the sheep-fold. There had been trouble upon Fanner Welton’s place. Dogs had been killing his sheep—and some of the very best at that. He had declared, in his wrath, that he would shoot the first stray dog he found prowling about his premises. On this evening, by chance, he had been carrying his gun from the house to the barn when the canine intruder appeared. Aye, and in the barn he had been taking the skin from a valuable sheep which had been killed and mangled with tigerish ferocity. So, when he saw the strange dog coming through his shed, he brought the gun to his shoulder and, with quick, sure aim, fired. The dog gave a leap and a howl, and, having whisked around in a circle two or three times, he bounded off in a tangent, yelping painfully, and was soon lost to sight. “ Halloo! What’s to pay now, Welton?’’ “Ah—is that you, Frost?” “ Yes. Ye been shootin’ somethin’, ain’t ye?” “ I’ve shot a dog, I think." “ Ye-e-s. I seed him scootin’ ofi. Itwas Brackett’s, I reckon.” Before the farmer could make any further remark his wife called to him from the porch, and he went in. Very shortly afterward a boy and a girl came out through the shed as the dog had come. Down back of Welton’s farm, distant half a mile, or so, was a saw and grist mill with quite a little settlement around it, and people having occasion to go on foot from that section to the farms on the hill could cut off a long distance by crossing Welton’s lot. The boy and girl were children of Mr. Brackett. When they reached home they were met by a scene of direconfusion. Old Carlo, the grand old Newfoundland dog—the Ipving and the loved—the true and the faithful—had come home shot through the head, and was dying. The children threw themselves upon their shaggy mate and wept and moaned in agony. Mr. Brackett arrived just as the dog breathed his last. One of the older boys .stood by with a lighted lantern—for it had grown quite dark now—and the farmer saw what had happened. “ Who did this ?” he asked groaningly. “John Welton did it," said Tom Frost, coming up at that moment. “ He’s been losin’ sheep, an 1 I guess he’s got kind o’ wrathy.” “But my dog never killed a sheep—never! He’s been reared to care for sheep. How came he down there?” “ He went over to the mill with Sis and me;’’ saw the younger boy,sobbing as he spoke; “ and he was running on ahead of us toward home. I heard a gun just before we got to Mr. W’elton’s, but oh! 1 didn’t think be could have shot poor Carlo!” Mr. Brackett was fairly beside himself. To say he was angry would not express it. He had loved that dog—-it had been the chief pet of his household for years. He was not a man in the .habit of using profane language, but on the present occasion a fierce oath escaped him; and in that frame of mind—literally boiling with hot wrath and indignation—he started for Welton’s. John Welton and Peter Brackett had been neighbors from their earliest days, and they had been friends, too. Between r the two families there had Wen a bond of love and good will, and a spirit of fraternal kindness and regard had marked their intercourse. Both the farmers .were hard-working men, with strong feelings and positive characteristics. They belonged to the same religious society and sympathized in politics. They had had warm discussions, but never yet a direct falling out. Of the two, Welton was the more intellectual, and, perhaps, a little more, tinged with pride than was his

neighbor. But they were both hearty men, enjoying life for the good it gave them. Mr. Welton entered his kitchen, and stood the empty gun up behind the door. “What’s the matter, John?” his wife asked, as she saw his troubled face. “ I’m afraid I’ve done a bad thing,” he replied regretfully. '“ I fear I have shot Brackett’s dog.” “Oh, John!” “But I didn’t know whose dog it was. I saw him coming out from the shed—if was too dark to see more than that it was a dog. I only thought of the sheep I had lost, and I fired.” “ I am sorry, John. Oh, how Mrs. Brackett and the children will feel. They set everything by old Carlo. But you can explain it.” “Yes—l can explain it.” j Half an hour later Mr. Welton was going to his barn with a lighted ' lantern in his hand. He was thinking of the recent unfortunate occurrence and was sorely worried and perplexed. What would his neighbor say ? He hoped there might be no trouble. He was reflecting thus when Mr. Brackett appeared before him, coming up quickly and stopping with an angry stamp of the foot. Now there may be a volume of electric influence even in the stamp of a foot, and there was such an influence in the stamp which Brackett gave; and Welton felt it, and braced himself against it. There was, moreover, an atmosphere exhaling from the presence of the irate man at once repellant and aggravating. “John Welton! you have shot mydog!” The words were hissed forth hotly. “ Yes,” said Welton, icily. “ How dared you do it?”

“ I dare shoot any dog that comes prowling about my buildings, when I have had my sheep killed by them.” “ But my dog never troubled your sheep, and you know it!” “ How should I know it?” “You know that he! never did harm to a sheep. It wasn’t in his nature. It was a mean, cowardly act, and (an oath) you shall suffer for it!” “Brackett, you don’t know to whom you are talking.” “ Oho!” (Another oath.) “We’ll find out! We’ll see! Don’t put on airs, John Welton. You ain’t a saint. I’ll have satisfaction, if I have to take it out of your hide!” “ Peter, you’d better go home and cool off. You are making yourself ridiculous.” Now, really, this w r as the unkindest cut of all. Not all the mad words of Brackett put together were so hard as this single sentence; and John Welton put all the bitter sarcasm in his command into it.

Brackett burst forth into a torrent of invective, and then turned away. Half an hour later John Welton acknowledged to himself that he had not done exactly right. Had he, in the outset, in answer to Brackett’s first outburst, told the simple truth—that he had shot the dog by mistake; that he was sorry, and that he w’as willing to do anything in his power to make amends—had he done this his neighbor would probably have softened at once. But it was too late now. The blow had been struck; he hadbeen grossly lnsutted, and' he'would hotback down. Mr. Brackett w T as not so reflective. He only felt his wrath, which he nursed to keep it warm. That night he hitched his horse to a job-wagoh and went down to the village after a barrel of flour. Having transacted his store business he called upon Laban Pepper, a lawyer, to whom he narrated the facts of the shooting of his dog. Pepper was a man anxious for fees. He had no sympathy or soul above that. “You say your dog was ip company with two of your children?” “ Yes.” “And this passage over Mr. Welton’s land, and througli his shed, has been freely yielded by him as a right of way to his neighbors?” “ Yes, sir, ever since I can remember.” “Then, my dear sir, Welton is clearly liable. If you will come with me we will step into Mr. Garfield’s and have a suit commenced at once.” > Mr. Garfield was the trial Justice. "’‘All this happened on Friday evening. 0n Saturday' it had become noised abroad in the- farming district that"there was not only serious trouble between Neighbors Welton and Brackett, but that they were going to law about it. On Sunday morning John Welton told his wife he should not attend church. She could go if she liked. She had no need to ask her husband why he would not go out. She knew he was unhappy and that he could not bear to meet his old neighbor in the house of God while the dark cloud was upon him. Nor did she wishto meet either Mr. or Mrs. Brackett. Bo they both stayed at home.

Peter Brackett was even more miserable than John Welton, though perhaps he did not know it. He held in close companionship the very worst demon a man can embrace—the demon of wrathful vengeance—and, in order to maintain himself at the strain to which he had set his feelings, he was obliged to nurse the monster. He did not attend church on that day, nor did his wife. Twb or three times during the calm, beautiful Sabbath, as he glanced over toward his neighbor’s dwelling, he found himself beginning to wish that he had not gone to see John Welton in such a heat of anger; but he put the wish away and nursed back his wrath. On Monday toward noon the Constable came up from the village and read to John Welton an imposing legal document. It was a summons issued by William Garfield, Esq., a Justice of the Peace and Quorum, ordering the said John Welton to appear before him at two of the clock on Wednesday, at his office, then and there to answer to the complaint of Peter Brackett, etc., etc. The officer read the summons and left with the defendant a copy. silt was the first time John Welton had ever been called upon to face the law; At first he was awe-strickea and then he was wroth. He told himself that he would, fight ijtp 6 the bitter end. And now he tried to nurse his wrath and became more unhappy than before. On Tuesday evening Parson Surely called upon Mr. Weltdn. The good man had heard of the trouble and was exceedingly exercised in spirit. Both the men were of his flock, and he loved and respected them both. He sat down alone with Welton, and asked him what it meant. “ Tell me calmly and candidly all about it,” he said. After a little reflection Mr. Welton told the story. He knew the old clergyman for a true man and a whole-hearted friend, and he told everything just as he understood it. . . “ And Neighbor Brackett thinks, even now, that you shot the dog knowing that it was his?” >- “ I suppose so.” “If you had told him the exact facts

in the beginning do you think he would have held his anger?” , , . m , This was a hard question f° r John Welton, but he answered it mani"hHy : “ Truly, parson, I do noi think he would.” “ Were you ever more unhappy' in your life than yon have been since this .trouble

came?" “ I think not.” ♦ ’ “ And, if possible, Neighbor Bracket. 1 is more unhappy than you.” “ Do yop think so ?” “ Yes. He is the most-angry and vengeful. | A brief pause, and then the parson resumed : “ Brother Welton, with you are needed but few words. You are a stronger man than Brother Brackett. Do you not believe he has a good heart?” “ Yes.”

“ I wish you could show him how true and good your own heart is.” “Parson!” “ I wish you could show him that you possess true Christian courage.” “ Parson, what do you mean ?” “ I wish you had the courage to meet him and conquer him.” “ How would you have me do it ?” “ First, conquer yourself. You are not offended ?” “No. Goon.” And thereupon the good old clergyman drew up his chair and laid his hand upon his friend’s arm and told him just what he would have him do. He spoke earnestly and with tears in his eyes. “Brother Welton, have you the heart and the courage to do this ?” The farmer arose and took two or three turns across the floor and finally said: “I will do it!”

On the following day, toward the middle of the afterhoon, Peter Brackett stood in the dooryard with his head bent. He was thinking whether he should harness his horse and be off before dinner or whether he would wait until afternoon. He could not work; he could not even put his mind to ordinary chores. “ I wonder,” he said to himself, “ how the trial will come out! I s’pose Welton’ll hire old Whitman to take his case. Of course the office’!) be crowded. Tom Frost says it’s noised everywhere and that everybody’ll be there. Plague take it! I wish-v —” His meditations were interrupted by approaching steps, and on looking up he beheld Neighbor Welton. “ Good morning, Peter.” Brackett gasped, and finally answered: “ Good morning,” though rather crustily. Welton went on, frankly and pleasant>y: ‘ ' “ 1 ou will go to the village to-day?” “ I s’pose so.” “I have been summoned by Justice Garfield to be there, also; but really, Peter, I don’t want to go. One of us will be enough. Garfield is a fair man, and when he knows the facts he will do what is right. Now, you can state them as well as 1 can, and whatever his decision is I will abide by it. Y T ou can tell him that I shot your dog, and that your dog had done me no harm.” “Do you acknowledge that old Carlo never harmed you—that he never troubled your sheep?” inquired Brackett, with startled surprise. “ It. was not his nature to do harm to anything. I am sure he would sooner have saved one of my sheep than have killed it.” “ Then what did you shoot him for?” “ That is what I was just coming at, Peter. You will tell the Justice that I had lost several of my best sheep—killed by dogs—that I had just been taking the skin from a fat, valuable wether that had been so killed and mangled—that I was on my way from my house, with my gun in my hand, when I saw a dog come out from my shed. My first thought was that he had come from my sheep-ibld. It was almost dark and I could not see plainly. Tell the Justice that I had no idea it was your dog. I never dreamed that I had fired that cruel shot at old Carlo until Tom Frost told me.”

“How? You didn’t know it was my dog?” “ Peter, have you thought so hard of me as to think that I could knowingly and willingly have harmed that grand old dog? I would sooner have shot one of my own oxen.” “But you didn’t tell me so at first. Why didn’t you?” “ Because you came upon me so—so—suddenly ” “O pshaw!” cried Brackett, with a stamp ot his foot. “ Why don’t you spit it out as it was? Say I came down on you so like a hornet that you hadn’t a chance to think. I was a blamed fool—that’s what I was.” “ And I was another, Peter; if I hadn’t been I should have told you the truth at once, instead of flaring up. But we will understand it now. You can see the Justice ” “Justice be hanged!—John— Dang it all! what is the use? There! —Let us end it so!” From her window Mrs. Brackett had seen the two men come together, and she trembled for the result. By and by she saw’ her husband, as though flushed and excited, put out his hana. Mercy! was he going to strike his neighbor? She was ready to cry out with affright—the cry was almost upon her lips—when she beheld a scene that called forth rejoicing instead. And this was what she saw: She saw these two strong men grasp one another by the hand, and she saw big, bright tears rolling down their cheeks; and she knew that the fearful storm was passed, shd that the warm sunshine of love and tranquillity would coma again.

The Way They Vote in Wyoming.

A Laramie paper tells the following: _ The papers have been telling about the Laramie woman who sat down and took a good cry when her vote was challenged. NoW let them talk about the woman at Medicine Bow who, just as she was depositing her vote last election-day, was surprised to hear a rough sing out:, “ I challenge that woman’s vote.” , “On what grounds, sir?” > “ She hasn’t been long enough in tlie Territory.” Did the woman sit down and cry over it? It is not to be recorded. Her dainty little hand glided back into the folds of her pull-back, and the next thjng that audacious cuss knew he was gazing into the muz»le of a derringer, while the fair voter said: “ How long have I been in the Territory, sir?” “ Look out, madam—doa’t. That cussed thing might go off—take it away; I beg your pardon; I—don’t touch that trigger —l4-I’m mistaken in the woman. Please point that the other way. I’ll lick the lyin’ sheep-thief that says you haven’t lived right here intliis town for ten years, I sw’ar I will.” He scooted around the corner and she smilingly passed in her ticket.

RELIGIOUS AND EDUCATIONAL.

L i —The Texas Legislature has fixed the compensation of public school-teachers in that State at ten cents per day for each pupil in actual attendance. —ln the final arrangement for the English Church Congress it is announced that the Bishop of Tennessee is to be one of the speakers at the first meeting. —The revisers of the authorized version of the New Testament have completed their revision to the middle of the nm/h chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians.

—ln J 820 the receipts the Methodist Missionai’V Society we?? something over three cents a member,- in 1836, less than three cents; i’.u 1840, twerty-fuur cents; in 1850, eighteen .cents; in It9SO, thirty cents; in 1870, fifty-one cents.

—The prize offered some time ago by the Rocky Mountain Presbyterian for the best hymn sent to it upon home missionary work has been awarded to “ A Lady of Virginia,” whose name is not to be made public, although her hymn has been printed in the Presbyterian journals.

—The Rev. Thomas Toller, of Kettering, an English Independent minister, eighty-nine years of age, on Sunday, Sept. 25, resigned his,charge after a service of fifty-five years. His father ministered to the same church for the preceding fortyfive years. Mr. Toller conducted his fare-w-ell services without any assistance.

—The following are the statistics of the West Virginia Conference of the Methodist Church South: Local preachers, 133; white members, 12,991; colored members, 24; added by baptism, 754; added on profession of faith, 1,390; infants baptized, 361; Sunday-schools, 198; officers and teachers, 1,364; number of scholars, 7,922; volumes in library, 12,518; churches, 145; value, $140,800; parsonages, 13; value, $9,850; value of other church property, $3,845; salary of ministers, $16,482.46; expended for Sunday-schools, sl,208.02; building and repairing churches and parsonages, $5,911.20; foreign missions, $302.29; domestic missions, $388.98; conference claimants, $572.40, and Bishop’s fund, $189.25. —Habits should enter largely into the choice of a teacher. If you wish your boys to become inebriates employ a teacher who uses intoxicating liquors, frequents saloons, etc. If you wish them to eat tobacco, procure a teacher who will use it in their presence. The idea with some is that if he only smokes or chews a little it don’t matter; better obtain one who is a perfectly dirty habituate, then your boys may become disgusted with its use. If you wish your schoolroom a hot-bed of disease procure a teacher who is ignorant of the laws controlling health, who will keep the air vitiated with poisonous vapors and heated to a degree that removes the oxygen of the air. Such a one will most generally be those whose lungs are so compressed with some fashionable appendage as to be unable to manufacture enough heat to sustain the body and extremities during winter. If you wish your girls lea into fashions which dwarf the body get a teacher who is corseted, bustled, with light, high-heeled boots and delicate apparel. If you want the mind dwarfed obtain a teacher whose time is devoted to the reading of novels, fictitious magazines and other nonsense, instead of good, sound literature.— Cor. Western Farm Journal.

The Varied Fortunes of Life.

A London correspondent writes: “ A strange career came to a termination a few days since in an upper room at Gray’s Inn. A gentleman, who had been rescued by an old Rugby school-fellow from the cabstand, and had been taken by him to an attic in Gray’s Inn, died there. He was the son of a wealthy manufacturer of Manchester, a schoolboy at Rugby, and a graduate of Oxford University. Supported by Cobden, he became member of Parliament for a northern constituency. On the death of his father he became possessed of great wealth. Coming to London he read for the bar, but was never “called,” and then plunged into all the excesses of profligate life. He got into the divorce court, lost his friends, and changed his name. Then he “ran amuck” among the turfites, and, being cheated himself, in the attempt to retaliate by cheating others he was obliged to fly to California, where he was as reckless as he had been in England. After several years he changed his name again and returned to his country, where, failing to obtain otiier employment, he had to resort to the poor gentleman’s refuge, the occupation of cabariviSg, and finally ended his days as previously mentioned.

The Story of a Convict.

A convict has just died in Sing-Sing. Prison whose history during his imprisonment possesses a peculiar interest. His name was John Parsons, and he had been an inmate of the prison for three and twenty years. He went there a young man and came out a gray-headed corpse. He was originally convicted of manslaughter in the first degree, and condemned to imprisonment for life. He was a jovial, good-natured fellow, and enjoyed. many privileges, such as running errands to the village and doing odd jobs about tlie place, and acting at times as a servant to the Wardens, and generally making himself useful. On one occasion he begged very hard to be allowed to visit J*iew York, and the permission was accorded. He went alone and was seated at a theater that same night when one of the guards of the Prison, who wife off on leave of absence, saw him there, supposed he had escaped, and had him arrested in an orchestra seat at Niblo’s Garden. He was taken back to the Prison handcuffed, despite all his protestations, and never asked to be allowed to visit New York again. By years of companionship and familiarity it seems that he grew to love the Prison where at first he was an involuntary visitor, and when all the friends and relatives he once knew had passed away he came to look upon these hard walls as his home. Three years ago he was offered a pardon by Gov. Dix; he cried like a child when told of it, and begged to be allowed to remain, saying that if he were sent away he should commit some crime to be able to get back. Under these circumstances it was thought better to let him remain where he was, particularly as he was' more useful and serviceable than anyone around the place. All liked him sincerely, and when “John” breathed his last on his prison bed there was sincere regret and sorrow in Prison. The men’s and women’s dresses are so much alike in Cochin Qhina that it is almost impossible to say which is which, and several French officers who recently proposed for the hand and fortune of natives discovered that they had proposed for the hand of the sterner sex. For the future, therefore, the men are to have thejr hair tied with a different colored ribbon from that of the ladies. »

Centennial Affairs.

Tint Women’a Centennial Executive. Committee have raised $30,000 for the erection of a pavilion in which to exhibit every kind of women’s Work. To this collection women of all nations are ex to contribute. . PowEit 1P the Machinery Hall will be chiefly suppTTM fey a P a >r of monster Corliss engines. Each ovjinder is forty inches in diameter, with a stniSo of ten teet; the fly-wheel is thirty-one feet ip diameter, and weighs fifty-five tons; the hor«e-power is 1,400, and the number of boilers is twenty. This engine drives about a mile of shafting. The Secretary of the Navy has arranged' that a United States war vessel shall call next spring at convenient European ports to collect and transport hither to the Exhibition the works of American artists resident in Europe. Amon£ the ports thus far designated are Southampton for England, Havre for France, Bremen for Germany and Leghorn for Italy, to which, il desirable, others may be added.

Mr_ Bell, lhe eminent English sculptor, who designed the groups for the plinth for the great Albert Memorial in Hyde Park, London, is reproducing in terra cotta, at the celebrated works in Lambeth, the one which symbolizes America. The figures in this group are colossal, covering a ground space of fifteen feet square. It will probably be placed in the great central gallery, opposite the principal entrance.

An important special exhibition will be made by the United States Government and is being prepared under the supervision of a board of officers representing the several executive departments of the Government. Affine building of four and one-half acres is provided for the purpose, space in which will be occupied by the War, Treasury, Navy, Interior, Postoffice and Agricultural Departments and the Smithsonian Institution. The Machinery building, like the others, is already fully covered by applications. Tliere are about 1,000 American exhibitors in this department, 1.50 English and 150 from other European countries — which is about 250 more than entered the Vienna Machinery Exhibition. Extra provision is being made for annexes to accommodate the hydraulic machinery, the steam hammers, forges, hoisting engines, boilers, plumbers, carpenters, etc. The Centennial grounds are situated on the western bank of the Schuylkill River, and within Fairmount Park, the largest public park in proximity to a great city in the world, and one of the most beautiful in the country. The park contains 3.160 acres, 450 of which have been inclosed for the Exhibition. Besides this tract there will lie large yards near by for the exhibition of stock, and a farm of forty-two acres has already been suitably planted for the tests of plows, mowers, reapers and other agricultural machinery. The Art Exhibition will include in addition to the works of contemporary artists representative productions of the past century of American art—those, for instance, of Stuart, Copley. Trumbull, West, Alston, Sully, N eagle, Elliot, Kensett, Cole. These, as well as the works offered by living artists, will be passed upon by the Committee of Selection, who will visit for the purpose New York, Boston, Chicago and other leading cities, in order to prevent the needless transportation to Philadelphia ot works of art not up to the standard of admission.

The Exhibition buildings are approached by eight lines of street-cars, which connect with all the other lines in tlie city, and by the Pennsylvania and Reading Railroads, over the tracks of which trains will also run from the North Pennsylvania and Philadelphia, Wilmington & Baltimore Railroads. Thus the Exhibition is in immediate connection with the entire railroad system of the country, and anyone within ninety miles of Philadelphia can visit it at no greater cost than that of carriage hire at the Paris or Vienna Exhibition. For the Art Exhibition the most eminent American artists are understood to be at work, and it maybe confidently stated that, especially in the department of landscape painting, the United States will present a finer display than the public has been led to expect. Quite aside from the contributions of American artists, applies-, tions from abroad call for more than four times the exhibiting space afforded by the great Memorial Hall. Provision for the surplus he made in temporary fireproof buildings, though all exhibiting nations will be represented in the central Art Gallery. The list of special buildings is constantly increasing and present indications are that their total number will be from 200 to 250. Most of the important foreign nations England, Germany, Austria, France, Sweden, Egypt, Japan and others —are putting up one or more structures each for exhibiting purposes or for the use of the Commissmners, exhibitors and visitors. Offices and headquarters of this kind, usually of considerable architectural beauty, are provided by the States ot Pennsylania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Missouri, Kansas, Virginia, West Virginia, Nevada, Wisconsin, lowa and Delaware ; and it is likely that others will follow the example. The articles to be exhibited have been classified in seven departments, which, for the most part, will be located in appropriate buildings, whose several areas are as follows: Department. Bulldingt. Amt Covered. 1. Min’g <t Met’l’gy, 1 2. Manufactures, j-Maln Building 21.47 3. Kdncat'n and Set. ) 4. Art Art Gallery -. 1.5 5. Machinery Machinery Build’? 14. t. Agriculture Agricultural Building.. .10. -fr-Hertieattarr,:..ltorticaiturat Bnfiarug. .~ES~ Total 48.47 This provides nearly ten more acres for exhibiting space than there were at Vienna, the largest International Exhibition yet held. Yet the applications of exhibitors have been so numerous as to exhaust the space, and many important classes of objects must be provided for in special buildings. A number of trade and industrial associations, which require large amounts of space, will be provided for in special buildings. Among these are the photographers, the I carriage builders, the glass makers, ' the cracker bakers, the .boot and shoe manufacturers, Irides quite a number of individ/tml exhibitors. The great demands for space will probably render this course necessary to a considerable extent, especially for exhibitors who have been tardy in making their applications. In tlie. main Exhibition building, for example/ 2 833,300 square feet of space had been ap plied for by the beginning of October by American exhibitors only; whereas, the aggregate space which it has been possible to reserve for the United States Department is only IGO,OOO square feet, about one-third oi which will be consumed by passage-ways.

fHB MOTHERS CRADLESONG. Bing him a cradle-song Tender and low; •Tell him how Jesus came Long, long ago; Catne as a little one, Lovely and mild, -r God’s own eternal Bon, Yet Mary’s child. Long years may come and paw, And there shall be Under the churchyard grass Slumber for thee; , Yet shall thy song live on Still in his life, Sweeter when thou art gone Out of the strife. Sorrow wln come with time, Faith may grow cold; Truth, like a silver chime. Call# to the fold; Calls to the roving sheep * (Gone far astray), “Come, and thy Lord shall keep Spoilers away.” Say not the words are weak, Scorned of the wise; Doth not the Master speak In lowly guise?He shall thy weakness make Holy and strong, And thy poor song shall wake A sweeter song. —Sunday at Home.

“Tact in Teaching.”

Sunday-school teaching must be conducted with tact. Teaching wfthout tact is a tax. In a sculptor’s studio there are some rough-hewn blocks, others nearer completion, others with delicate tracery visible. The marble is the same. It is the skill, the tact of the sculptor that enables him to bring out the finished work. Finishing Sunday-scholars is different from carving marbles. There is a difference in the work. True tact is the ready fact of appreciating and doing what is required by the circumstances. Mind acts for itself. The impression you make on it to-day may be obliterated to-morrow. In your class are several types of mind. One boy comes from a religious home where his heart has had opportunity to grow. Another is from the home of want and drunkenness. His heart is hard, and he looks on the world as an enemy. The father of another is a scoffer, and his mother a religious woman. Another is a waif with no home at all. Perhaps these are in the same class. This is all different from sculpturing marble. Different treatment is required for each. The teacher who has no tact will fail. So in the teaching of the lesson. Presenting the lesson the same way at all timeswill produce failure. A judicious change of methods is of advantage. Sometimes reading in concert; sometimeselliptically; sometimes reciting from memory; in many ways the teacher can exercise tact in selecting the proper course to pursue. Tlig good tactician thinks, as he is studying the lesson, how he shall present its truths to his class. In questioning, there is a great call for the exercise of tact. The' superficial scholar may ask a question like Topsy asKing if the state from which Adam fell was “ Old Kentuck.” To be able to lead back the wandering thought requires Urt on the part of the teacher. A rude boySn a class blacked his hand with soot from the Sunday-school stove and wiped iron the next boy’s hand. He communicated# it to the rest, and soon all the class had their hands blacked. The teacher turned it into an object-lesson on the blackness and contagion of sin. showing his tact. How shall we get at the heart of the child who is looking for the application, and fearing you will give it to him burning hot? Don’t rub against the grain. As in planing boards you drive vour plane with the grain, drive judiciousfy ana you can go overthe roughest surface, and find your way to the most unpromising heart. —S. S. Workman.

A Monosyllable Meditation.

To do a thing well, one needs to know the worth of deeds large or small. The end may not prove the aim, but a right aim is to be sought first, and then the deed may be left where all men’s deeds must be left, in the hands of God. There are folks who do not ask to know if a thing be right or wrong, but if it will do something to please the self, which is first in the thoughts of a bad mind. To put down this self, the love of Christ is meant to be at hand for our help. Love and law are as one. He who loves most what is right and good and true will prove that law is the chief friend of all. It may be hard to see this so long as sin blinds the eyes. But the light of Christ’s love drives black night off, so that with the pure rays of God’s truth all things mav be seen to be as they are, good or bad. Yet as love is life, we must know that where love is not, the law of God is a hard rule, and the heart turns to it as if it were a foe of peace. Now the part of the law may be to drive us to Him who is the end of the law, but the part of love is to hold us by sweet and strong ties to the Rock cleft for us. There we are safe. The rose is fair, for it draws its life from the sun, which is the source of that wealth of tint and shade which we find" in earth and sky; but how much more do our souls need to draw from the Great Sun of our Faith all that can make them bright and cause them to throw back the rays they get from on high, so that their light may shine clear and well in the ways by which we goto the house not made with hands. In that fair home of love and rest no eyes will be held in the dark, for there will be light of not sun or m<>on, for the Lord God shall lie the light and the joy of those who dwell by the throne. It were well, then, for all who are on this edge of time; by the shore of a vast sea. to walk with feet shod with peace, hands full ot trust, eyes set on the mark, and hearts drawn by a great cord to the long rest; where shall be no storm, but the full calm for which we moan and pray, while the waves press and the winds beat on our weak barks.— E. 8. Porter, I). J). Temptations are true tests, and accordingly are often the best friends we have. The man or woman who has no temptations can never know the strength of principle he or she may possess. Tlie merit of a virtue is brought out when it is beset Dy an enemy. The world likes the strong and the good, but it never sees it till it has shown itSelf by severe contact and struggle with the opposing elements, and been on severe trial, as it were. Self is mighty, the world is mighty, sin is mighty, death is mighty; but Christ is mightier, infinitely mightier, than any of ihein or ail of them combined. 1 Happy is grows with Christ as his portion, for he is ever renewing his youth. He lives, like Moses, upon the mount, in full view of the promised land Take care that all is done in a sweet and easy way; make no toil or task out of the sendee of God. Do all freely and cheerfully, without violent effort.