Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 1, Number 37, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 11 March 1871 — Page 6

THE SOCIETY UPON THE ST A NISLA US. I at Table Mountain, and my name to

Truthful James.

I am not to small deceit or any sinful game* And I'll tell In simple language what 1 know about the row That broke up our Society upon the Htnnlslow.

Itut first 1 would rein rk that it I. not a

pniH'r

plan.

For any .clentlfle gentleman to whale Ills fellow-man: And if a member don't agree with his peculiar whim, To lay for that name member for to "put a head"on him.

For nothing could be finer or more U-aullfuI to see Than the flrt six months' proceedings of that Nunc mclety, Till Hmwn of Calaveras brought a lot of fOS-

Kll IXMHH

That he found wllliln a tiuiurl near the tenement. ol Jones.

Then Ilrown he read a jajer, alid he rcconMrueted there Krom tlu-He itam! toneunn animal that was extremely rare And June* then asked the Chair for a suspemdon (lie ruh*» Till be could prove that these same bones were one of his lo«t mules.

Then ttrown he smiled a bitter smile and said he was at fault, seemed he had been trespassing on Jones' fam ly vault He was a most sarcastic man, this quiet Mr. iirown, And on several occasions he had cleaned out the town.

Now I hold it 1.* not decent for a sientilic Kent To say another Is an ass—at least to all Intent Nor should the individual who happens to bo meant, lt«|iy by heaving rocks at him to any great extent.

Then Aimer I)ean of Angui's raised a point of order—when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the alxloinen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and eurled upon the iloor, And Hie subsequent proceedings interested liim no more.

For In less time that I write It, every member did engage In warfare with tiie remnants of a paleozoic

And Hie way they heaved those fossils in their anger was a sin, Till the of an old mammoth caved the head of Thompson In.

And this is all I have to say of these improper games, For 1 live at Table Mountain and my name is Truthlul James And I've told In simple language wnat I know about the row 'Mat bioke tijpour Society upon theHtanto-

IdW IIKKT II ARTE.

'The Outcasts of Poker Flat.

JIV KUA-NCLS HHKT HAItTK.

Ah Mr. John Oakiiurst, gambler,stepped into the main street of Poker Flat on tlio morning of thoi'ld ofNovoniber, 1850, he was conscious of a change in its moral atmosphere since tlio preceding night. Two or three men conversing earnestly together, ceased as he approached, iuid exchanged significant glances. There was a Sabbath lull in the air, which in a settlement unused to Sabbath influences, looked ominous.

Mr. Oakluirst's calm, handsome lace bctraved small concern in those indications.* Whether he was conscious «f :uiv predisposing cause, was another question. "I reckon they're after somebody," he reflected "likely it's mo." Jle returned to his pocket tho handkerchief with which ho had been whipping away the red dust of Poker Flat from his heat boots, and quietly discharged his mind of any further conjecture.

In point of fact, Poker Flat was "aftcr somebody." It luul lately sull'ored the loss of several thousand dollars, two valuablo horses, and a prominent citizen. It was experiencing a spasm of virtuous reaction, quito as lawless and ungovernable as any of the acts that had provoked it. A secret committeo had determined to rid tho town of all improper persons. This was done permanently in regard of two men who were then hanging from the boughs of a sycamoro in tlio gulch, and temporarily in tho banishment of cortain other objectionable characters. I regret to say that 4omo of these were ladies. It in but duo to the sex, however, to state t. at their Impropriety was professional,and it' was only in such easily established standards of evil that Potter Flat ventured to sit in judgmeut.

Mr. Oakhurst was ripht in supposing that he was included in this category. A fow of tho committee had urged hanging him as a possible example, and a sure method of reimbursing thomselves from his pockots of tho sums ho had won from them. "It's agin justice," said Jim Wheeler, "to Yet this yer young man from Roaring Camp—an entire stranger—carry away our money." Rut a crude sentiment ef equity residing In the breasts of those who had been fortunate enough to win from Mr. Oakhurst overruled this narrower local prejudice.

Mr. Oakhurst received his sentence with less coolly hesitation of hi* judges, lie was too much of a gambler not to accept Fate. With him life was at best an uncertain game, and ho recognized the usual percentage in «vor of the dealer.

philosophic calmness, none the that he was aware of tho

A body of armed men accompanied the deported wickedness of Poker Flat to the outskirts of the settlement, liesides Mr. Oakhurst, who was known to bo a coolly desperate man, and for whose intimidation the armed escort •van intended, the expatriated party ttwnsistcd of a voung woman familiarly jkAmvit mh "tho Duchess another, •vk had won the title of "Mother jShJpion and "Uncle Ililly," a suspeei«*i sluice-robber and confirmed jdruukard. The cavalcade provoked jiio comments from tho spectators, nor was tkixr ward uttered by the escort. •jOttljr, WWn the gulch which marked the uttermost limit of Poker Flat was jrenched, the leader spoke briefly and to tho point. The exiles were forbidden Jo return at the peril of their lives.

As the escort disappeared, their pentup feelings found vent in a few hysterical tears from the Duchess, some bad language from Mother Shipton, and a Parthian volley of expletives from Uncle Hilly. The philosophic Oakhurst alone remained silent. He listened calmly to Mother Shipton's desire to cut ROitMsbody'* heart out, to the repeated statements of the Duchess that ahe would die on the road, and at the alarming expletives that seemed to be bumped out of Uncle Billy as he rede forward. With the easy good humor characteristic of his class, ho insisted upon cxciiutiitiug his own riding-horse, "Five Spot, for the sorry tuule on which the Duchess rode. But even this net did not draw the party into any closer *vropatht. The young woman readjust**! her somewhat draggled

iplumeswith a feeble fadevl coquetry

S[other

iui

HhipJon eyed the poiacssor of snow!

TEtttt.F.-H A

cle Billy included the wholo party in one sweeping anathema. TTie road to Sandy Bar—a camp that, not having experienced the regenerating influences of Pokor Flat, consequent lv soemed to offer sonio invitation to"tho emigrants—lay ovor a steep mountain range. It was distant a day severe travel. In that advanced soason, the party soon passed out of the moist temperate regions of the foot-hills Into the arv, cold, bracing air of theSlorras. Tho trail was narrow and difficult. At noon tho Duchoss, rolling out of her saddle upon tho ground declared her intention of going no farther, and tho partv halted.

The spot was singularly wild and impressive. A wooded amphitheatre, surrounded on threo sides by precipitous cliffs of naked granite, sloped gently toward the crest of another precipice that overlooked the valley. It was undoubted! v, the most suitable spot for a camp liatfcamping been advisable. But Mr. Oakhurst knew that scarcely half tho journey to Sundy Rar liiul boon accomplished, and the party were not equipped or provisioned lor delay. This fact he pointed out to his companions curtly, with a philosophic commentary on the folly of "throwing up their hands before the game was played out." Hut they were furnished with liquor, which in this emergency stood them in place of food, fuel, rest, and prescience. In spite ofhis remonstrances, it was not long before they wero more or less under its influence. Uncle Billr passed rapidly from a bellicose state to one of stupor, the Duchess bocamo a maudlin, and Mother Shipton snored. Mr. Oakhurst alone remained erect, leaning against a rock, calmly surveying them.

Mr. Oakhurst did not driuk. It interfered with a profession which required coolness, impassiyeness, and presence ol mind, and, in his own language, lie "couldn't afTord it." As lie gazed at his recumbent fel-low-exiles, the lonoliness begotten of his pariah-trade, his habits of life, his very vices, for tho first time seriously oppressed him. He bestirred himself in dusting his black clothes, washing 1 is hands and face, and other acts characteristic of his studiously neat habits, and for a moment forgot his annoyance. The thought of deserting his weaker and more pitiable companions never perhaps occurred to him. \et he could not help feeling tho want of that excitement which, singularly enough, was most conducive to that calm equanimity for which he was no torious. He looked at the gloomy walls that rose a thousand feet sheer above the circling pines around him at tho sky, ominously clouded at tho valley below, already deepining into a shadow. And, doing so, suddenly he heard his own name called.

A horseman slowly ascended the trail. In the fresh open of tho newcomer Mr. Oakhurst recognized Tom Simpson, otherwise known as "The Innocent" of Sandy Bar. He had met liim some months) before over a "little game," and had, with perfect equanimity, won the entire fortune—some forty dollars—of that guileless youth. After the giimo was finished, Mr. Oakhurst drew tho youthful speculator behind the door and thus addressed him: "Tommy, you're a good little man, but you can't gamble \vorth a cent. Don't try it over again." He then handed him his money back, pushed him gently from tho rocm, and so made a devoted slave of Tom Simson.

There was a remembraneo of this in his boyish and enthusiastic greeting ot Mr. Oakhurst. He had started,he said, to go to Poker Flat to seek his fortune "Alono No, not exactly alone in fact, (a giggle), ho had run away with Piney Woods. Didn't Mr. Oak hurst reme'mber Piney She that used to wait on tho tablo at tho Temperance House They had been engaged long time, but old Jake Woods had ob jocted, and so they had run away, and were going to Poker Flat to be married, and here they were tired out, and how lucky it was they had found a place to camp and company. All this tho Innocent delivered rapidly, while Piney, a stout comely damsel of fifteen, emerged from behind a pino tree, whore sho had been blushing unseen, and rode to tho side of her lover.

Mr. Oakhurst seldom troubled himsolf with sentiment, still less with propriety but he had a vague idea that the situation was not fortunate. He retained, however,his presence of mind sufficiently to kick Uncle Billy, who was about to say something, and Uncle Billy was sober enough to recognize in Mr, Oakhurst's kick a superior power that would not boar trifling. Ho then endeavored to dissuade Tom Simson from delaying further, but in vain. He eyon pointed out the fact that there was no provision, nor means of making a camp. But, unluckily, tho Innocent met this objection by assuring tho party that ho was provided with an extra mule loaded with provisions, and by tho discovery of a rude attompt at a log cabin near the trail. "Piney can stay with Mrs. Oakhurst," said the Innocent. pointing to tho Duchess, "and I can shift for mvsolf.

Nothing but Mr. Oakhurst's admon ishing foot saved Uncle Billy from bursting into a roar of laughter As it was, he felt compelled to retire up the canon until ho could recover his gravity. There he confided the joko to tho tall pine-trocs, with many slaps of his leg, contortions of tho face, and the usual profanity. But when ho returned to the party, ho found them seated around the fire—for the air had grown strangely chill and the sky overcast— In apparently amicable conversation. Piney was actually talking in an impulsive, girlish fashion to the Duchess, who was listening with an interest ami animation sho hau not shown for manv days. Tho Innocent was holding fortli, apparently with equal effect, to Mr. Oakhurst and Mother Shipton, who was actually relaxing into amiability, "Is this ver a d—d picnic?" said Uncle Billv, with inward scorn, as he surveyed the sylvan group, tho glancing firelight, and the tethered animals in the foreground. Suddenly an idea mingled with the alcoholic fumes that disturbed his brain. It was apparently of a jocular nature, for he felt impelled to slap his leg again and cram his fist into his mouth.

As the shadows crept slowly up the mountain, a alight breeze rocked the tops of the pine-treea, and moaned through their long gloomy aisles. The ruined cabin, patched and covered with pine-boughs was set apart for the ladles. As the lover* parted they unaffectedly exchanged a kiss, so "honest and sincere that it might have been heard above the swayiug pines. The frail Ducheas and the malevolent Mother Shipton were probably too stunned to remark upon this last evidence of simplicity, and so turned without a word to tho hut. The Are was repleniahed, the men lay down before the door,ami in a few minutes were asleep.

Mr. Oik hurst waa a light sleeper. Toward morning he awoke benumbed and told. As he stirred the dying Are, the wind which waa now blowing strongly, brought to his cheek that which caused the blood to leave it,—

'Fi ve Spot" with malevolence, and Un-j He started to his feet with the Inten­

tion of awakening the sleepers, for there was no time to lose. But turn* lug to whero Uncle Billy had been lying ho found him gone. A suspicion leaped to his brain and a curso to hi* lips. Ho ran to the snot where tho mules had boon totherea they were no longer thore. The tracks were already disappearing In tho snow.

Tho momentary, excitement brought Mr. Oakhurst back to tho ilro with nis usual calm. He did not waken the sleepers. Tho Innocent slumbered peacefully, with a smile on his goodhumored freckled fiice the Virgin Piney slopt besido hor frailer sisters as Bweotly as though attended by celestial

{Us

guardians, and Mr. Oakhurst, drawing blankot ovor his shoulders, stroked his moustaches and waited for the dawn. It came slowly in a whirling mist of snow flakes, that dazzled and confuseR tho o/o. What could be seen of the landscape appeared magically changed. He looked over tho valley, and summod up tho prosont and future in two words,—"snowed In!"

A careful inventory of tho provisions which, fortunately for the partv, had boon stored within tho hut, andsoescapod the felonious fingers of Uncle Billy, disclosed the fact that they might last ten days longer. "That is," said Mr. Oakhurst, sotto voce to the Innocent, "if you're willing to board us. If you ain't—and per wait tin »JII with provisions." From some occult reason, Mr. Oakhurst could not bring himself to disclose Uncle Billy's rascality, and so offered tho hypothesis that ho had wandered from tlio camp and had accidentally stampeded tho animals. IIo dropped a warning to the Duchess and Mother Shipton, who of .course knew tho facts of their as sociate's defection. "They'll find out the truth about us all when they find out any-thing," he added, significantly, "and there's no good frightening thein npw."

f?

1

rhaps you'd better not—

vou can wait till Uncle Billy gets back

Tom Simson not only put all his worldly store at the disposal of Mr. Oakhurst, butseemed to enjoy the prospect of their enforced seclusion. "We'll have a good camp l'or a week, and then thesnow'll melt, and we'll all go back together." The cheerful gavety ol the young man, and Mr. Oakhurst's calm infected the others. Tho Innocent, with the aid of pine-boughs, extemporized a, thatch for the roofless cabin, and the Duchess directed Piney in the rearrangement of tho interior with a taste and tact that opened the blue eyes of that provincial maiden to their fullest extent. *'1 reckon now you're used to fine things at Poker Flat," said Piney. The Duchess turned away sharplv to conceal something that reddened Tier cheeks through its professional tint, and Mother Shipton requested Piney not to "chattar." But when Mr. Oakhurst returned from a weary search for the trail, he heard the sound of happy laughter echoed from tho rocks, lie stopped in some alarm, and his thoughts at first naturally reverted to the whiskey which he had prudently cachcd. "And yet it don't somehow sound like whiskey," said the gambler. It was not till he caught sight of the blazing tire through the still-blinding storm and the group around it that he settled to the conviction that it was "square fun."

Whether Mr. Oakhurst had cached his cards with the Whiskey as something debarred the free access of the community, I cannot say. It was certain that, in Mother Shipton's words, he "didn't say cards once" during the evening. Haply the time was beguil^ bv an accordion produced somewhat ostentatiously by Torn Simson from his pack. Notwithstanding some difficulties attending the manipulation of this instrument, Piney Woods managed to pluck several reluctant melodies from its keys, to an accompaniment by tho Innocent on a pair of bone castinets. But the crowning festivity of the evening was reached in a rude camp-meet-ing hymn, which the lovers, joining hands, sang with great earnestness ana vociferation. I fear that acertain defiant tpne aad Covenanter's swing to its chorus, rather than any devotional quality caused speedily to infect the others, who at last joined in the refrain "I'm preud to live in the service of the

Lord,

And I'm bound to die In his army. The pines rocked, the storm eddied and whirled above the miserable group and the flames of their altar leaped heavenward as if in token of the vow.

At midnight the storm abated, the rolling clouds parted, and the stars glittered keenly above tho sleeping camp. Mr. Oakhurst, whose professional habits had enabled him to live on the least possible amount of sleep, in dividing the watch with Tom Simson somehow managed to take upon himself tho greater part of that duty. He excused himself to the Innocent, bv saying that he had often been a week without sleep." "Doing what?" asked Tom. "Poker!" replied Oakhurst, sententiously "when a man gets a streak of luck,—nigger luck,—he don't get tired. The luck gives in first. Luck," continued the gambler, reflectively, "is a mighty queer thing. All you know about it for certain is that it's bound to change. And it's finding out when it's going to change that makes you. We've had a streak of bad luck since wo left Poker Flat,—you come along, and slap you get into it, too. If you can hold your cards right along you're all rightr For," added the gambler, with cheerful irrelevance: '"I'm proud to be In the service of tbc

Ijord,

And I'm bound to die hi Ills army." The third day came, and the sun, looking through the white-curtained valley, saw the outcasts divide their slowly decreasing store of provisions for the morning meal. It was one of the peculiarities of that mountain climate that its rays diffused a kindly warmth over the wintry landscape, as if in regretful commiseration of the past. But it revealed drift on drift of fcnow piled high around the hut,—a hopeless, uncharted, trackless sea of white lying below the rocky shores to which the castaways still clung. Through the marvelously clear air the smoke of the pastorial village of Poker Flat rose miles away. Mother Shipton saw it, and from a remote pinnacle of her rocky festness, hurled in that direction a final malediction. It was her last vituperate attempt, aad perhaps for that reason waa invested with a certain degree of sublimity. It did her good, she privately informed the Duchess. "Just vou go out there and cuss, and see." She then seated herself to the task of amusing "the child," as she and the Duchess were pleased to call Piney. Piney waa no chicken, but it was a soothing and original theory of the pair to account for the feet that ahe didn't swear and wasn't improper.

When night crept up again through the gorges, the reodv notes of the accordion rose and fell in fitful spasms and long-drawn gasps by the flickering camp-fire. But music flailed to fill entirely the aching void left by insufficient food, and a new diversion was proposed by Piney,—story telling. Neither Mr. Oakhurst nor his female com aonal experience*, this

panions oaring to relate their peril experience*, thia plau wou felled too, bat for the Innocent.

lau would have Some

UTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, MARCH 11. i87I.

months before ho had chanced upon a stray 'copy of Mr. Pope's ingenious translation or the Iliad. He now proposed to narrate the prinelpal incidents of that poem—having thoroughly mastered the argument and feirly forgotten the the words—in the current vernacular of Sandy Bar. And so for the rest of that night the Homorio demigods again walkea the earth. Trojan bully and wily Greek wrostled in the winds, and the groat pines in the canon seemed to bow to the wrath of the son of Peleus. Mr. Oakhurst listened with quiet satisfaction. Most especially was he interested in tho fate of "Ash-heels," as the Innocent persisted in denominating the "swift-footed Achilles."

So with small food and much of Homor and the accordion, a week passed over the heads of the outcasts. Tho sun again forsook them, and again from tho leaden skies the snow-flakes wero sifted ovor tho land. Day by day closor around them drew the snowy cirelo, until at last they looked from their prison over drifted walls of daszling white, that towered twenty feet above their heads. It became more and more difficult to replenish their fires, even from the fallen trees besido them, now half hidden in tho drifts. And yet no one complained. The lovers turned from tho dreary prospect and looked into oach other's eyes, ai wero happy. Mr. Oakhurst settled himself coolly to tho losing game before him. Tho Duchoss, rnoro cheerful than she had been, assumed tho care of Piney. Only Mother Shipton—once the strongest of tho party—seemed to sicken ana fade. At midnight on the te.ith day she called Oakhurst to her side. "I'm going," she said, in a voice of querulous weakness, "but don't say anything about it. Don't waken tho kids. Take the bundle from under my head and open it." Mr. Oakhurst did so. It contained Mother Shipton's rations for the last week, untouched. "Give 'eni to the child," she said, pointing to tho sleeping Piney. "You've starved yourself," said tho gambler. "That's what they call it," said the woman, querulously, as she lay down again, and, turning hor faco to tho wall, passed quietly away.

The accordion and bones were put aside that day,-and Homer was forgotten. When the body of Mother Shipton had been committed to tho snow, Mr. Oakhurst took the Innocent aside, and showed him a pair of snow-shoes, which he had fashioned from the old pack-saddle. "There's one chance in a hundred to save her yet," he said, pointing to Piney "but it's there," he added pointing toward Poker Flat. "If you can reach there in two days she's safe." "And you?" asked Tom Simson. "I'll stay here," was the curt reply.

The lovers parted with a long embrace. "You are not going, too?" said the Duchess, as she saw Mr. Oakhurst apparentljr awaitingto accompany him. "As far as the canon," he replied. He turned suddenly, ana kissed the Duchess, leaving her pallid face all aflame, and her trembling limbs rigid with amazemeni.

Night came, but not Mr. Oakhurst. It brought the storm again and the whirling snow. Then tho Duchess, feeding the fire, found that some one had quietly piled beside the hut enough fuel to last a few days longer. Tho tears rose to her eyes, but she hid them from Piney.

The women slept but little. In the morning, looking into each other's faces, they read their fate. Neither spoke but Piney, accepting the position of the stronger, drew near and placed her arm around the Duchess's waist. They kept this attitude for the balance of the day. That night tho storm reached its greatest fury, and, rending asunder the protecting pines, invaded the very hut.

Toward morning they found themselves unable to feed the fire, which gradually died away. As tho embers slowly blackened, "the Duchess crept' closer to Piney, and broke the silence of many hours: "Piney can you pray?" "No, dear," said Piney, simply. The Duchess, without knowing exactly why felt relieved, and putting ner head upon Piney's shoulaer, spoke no more

And so reclining the younger and purer pillowing the heaa of her soiled sister upon her virgin breast, they fell asleep.

The wind lulled as if it feared to waken them. Feathery drifts ot snow, shaken from the long pine boughs, flew like white-winged birds, ana settled about them as they slept. The moon through the rifted clouds looked down upon what had been the camp. Bnt all human stain, all trace of earthly travail, was hidden beneath the spotless mantle mercifully flung from above.

They slept all that day and the next nor did they waken wnen voices and footsteps broke the silence of the camp. And when pitying fingers brushed the snow from their wan faces, you could have scarcely told from the equal peace that dwelt upon them, which was sho that had sinned. Even the law of Poker Flat recognized this, and turned away, leaving them still locked in each others arms.

But at the head of the gulch, on one of tho largest pine-trees, they found the deuce of dkbs pinned to the bark with a bowie-kmfe. It bore the following, written in pencil, in a firm hand

BEJfKATH THIS TREK I.IKH THE DODY

»y

JOHN OAKHURST,

WHO STRI'CK A STREAK OK BAD I.l'CK OX THK OK NOVEMBER 1830, AMD

HASDED li* HIS CHECKS OX TIIE 7TH OF DECEMBER 1830.

And pulseless and cold, with a derringer by his side and a bullet in his heart, though still calm as in life, beneath the snow lay he who was at once the strongest ana yet the weakest of the outcasts of Poker Flat.

"OtTiDAj" tho astonishing novelist, whose writings combine all the rices of George Eliot, Wilkie Collins and Emerson Bennett, and none of the good qualities of anybody, has been found out at lsst. Her name is Miss De la Ranie: she Uvea in London, is 40 year old, and an enthusiastic admirer of the South and the "lost cause."

A couXTY in New Mexico has been named Colfex. It is rumored that the distinguished statesman who waa the original patentee of that name is about to retire from public life in order to engage extensively in the manufacture of macadamised stair-carpeting

5A WESTERN gentleman lately put himself to bed on the atepaof a church, and trving to fold the anow flakes arcuna him, declared that every time he grasped a handful that the darned sheets always tore so.

AWCBB stridden for the letter of the law in Fremont insist on the arrest of a man who felt the necessity of reducing his family expenses and snot his moth-er-in-law with that view.

THE UNITED STATES OF EUROPE. A very able article under this head is published in the March number of Old and New. The author bases his article upon the "tenth wish," the Great Design of Henry of Navarre—as Lowell and this writer point out in more respects than one the Old World Lincoln —his plan for the United States of Europe:

acting in concert with Queen Elizabeth in her old age, conceived this plan of what he called the Christian commonwealth, to be lormed among the powers of Europe. No man called this a dream then, when such a soldier as Henry agreed to it, and such statesmen as Sully and Cecil planned for it. The death of Elizabeth, and the elevation of a fool to the throne of England, was its first misfortune. But Henry FV. was not born to be crossed by fools and to the moment of his murder, in 1610, he persevered. Tho diplomacy of France and of Northern Europe lor more than ten years seconded his endeavors. His plan in brief was this, to reduce tho number of European States, much as the Congress of Vienna did two hundred years afterwards, or so that all Europe should bo divided among fifteen powers. Russia did not then count as

Corn.

art of Europe and Prussia was not then Of these powers, six were the kingdoms of England, France, Spain, Denmark, Sweden and Lombardy. Five were to bo elective monarchies, viz: Tho German Empire, Tho Papacy, Poland, Hungaryjand Bohemia and there were to be four Republics—Switzerland, Venice, The States of Holland and Belgiuin, and The Republic of Italy, made up somewhat as the kingdom of Italy is now. These fifteen powers were to maintain but one standingarmy. The chief business of this army was to keep the peace among the States, and to prevent any sovereign from interfering with any other, from enlarging his borders, or other usurpations. This army and tho navy wero also to bo ready to repel invasions of Mussulmans and other barbarians. For tho arrangement of commerce and other mutual interests, a Senate was to bo appointed of lour members from each of the larger, and two from each of tho small States, who should ^serve three years and be in constant session. It was supposed that, for affairs local in their character, a part of these Senators might meet separately from the others. On occasians of universal importance they would meet together. Smaller Congresses for more trival circumstances were also provided for.

Tho plan contemplated a grand army of Europe, of320,000 men, and a navy of vessels, to be provided in quotas agreed upon by the respective members of the association, and, from the beginning, the members of tho association announced that no secession was to be possible or to be permitted.

But Henry tell, like Lincoln, before seeing the flowering of the seed ho had sown. But, says the writer, "the plans of Henry are already half carried through and "the moment has come which some groat man will certainly choose for trying to work out tho other half of his problem." We cannot forbear quoting these noble tvordfi as to our own destiny.

The diplomacy of a Republic, because it is a Republic, should look to the strengthening and maintaining peace among the nations of mankind.

We are constantly misled in this matter, because we go to school, and study tho histories of mere families of Bourbons, of Tudors of Hapsburgs— and their wars. We get excitod over these wars. Unconsciously, wo come to think that there is no great nation but a nation which is great in war. We might as rightly wish to have our nation great in earthquakes, or great in

So

estilcncos,or great in conflagations. To our duty in war when it comes, that is one thing to enjoy war, or to seek it, that is another. The great soldiers have always been great pacificators. The great Napoleon is no exception. But we are deceived by the books. Because an old feudal nation followed war, and has war written all over its history, we take a notion that wo, though we are not a feudal nation, must repeat that history. On tho other hand, the whole being and nature of our nation is different. This Ropublic exists simply that so many men and women may have happy homes. That is what it is for. It is not for the extension of any boundary, it is not for the propagation of any theory. it is not tor the glory of any leader, tnat our States are founded, or our Union set in order. No: it is that forty million men and women may live in happy homes. George Frisbie Hoar said tne other day, that the business of the people of this country is to see that 'no history is written.' He alluded to Montesquieu's maxim, that the people is happy whose history is not written. Well, that is our duty. To keep outside of the sensation life— the peer life of the scene-shifter in the melo-drama which makes up the common record of the vulgar histories. It is our duty to cultivate and to illustrate those relations of peace in which, and in which onlv, coine in the true prosperity of nations.

MARRIAGE MAXIMS. The following marriage maxims aro worthy of more than a nasty reading. Husbands need not pass them by, for they are designed for wives and wives should notdespise them, for they are addressed to husbands.

The very nearest approach to domestic happiness on earth is in the cultivation, on both sides, ofabsolute unselfish newt.

Nevertalk atoncanother, either alone or in company.

Never both get angry at once. Never speak loud to one another, unless the house is on fire.

Let each one strive to yield oftenest to the wishes of the other. Never flnd fault unless it is perfectly certain that a fault has been committed and alway speak lovingly.

Never taunt with a past mistake. Neglect the whole world besides, rather than one another.

Never make a remark at the expense of each other it is a meanness. Never part for a day without loving words to think of during absence.

Never meet without a loving welcome. Never let the sun go down upon any anger or grievance.

Never let any feult you have committed go until you hare frankly confessed it, and aak forgiveness.

Never forget the happy hours of early love. Never sigh over what might have been, but make the best of what In.

Never forget that marriage ia ordained of God, and that His blessings alone can make it what it should ever be.

Never let yonr hopes stop short of the eternal home.

SENSIBLE VIEWS ABOUT MARRIAGE. The Chicago Timts thus condenses its report of a sermon delivered in that city by Rev. Robert Collyer, on the subject of "Marriage." He said:

It was wrong to call marriage a lottery. He would believe that of most any occupation, but nothing was surer than thata good man or woman could And a good woman or man. God would help those who help themselves. It was a lottery to those who determined it should be a speculation. God did not loave the glory and joy of life to mere chance. Evenr man was sure of a good wife if he would give diligence to make hia calling and election sure. Very litle money was needful if they had some other things that it could never buy. He would not cry money down, and had little respect for those ministers who did, for they took all the salary they could get, and would break tender ties for "a divine call" that they could not resist. "Love of money" was the root of all evil. An old fermer told him that it would bo well to marry a woman who had money if he could love her but that it should not be one ofthe considerations. It was not true that when poverty come in at the door love jumped out of the window—passion might, fancy might, but love would not, and never did. That Cupid that sprang out of the window came Iroiu onus, the old heathen goddess. The angel of God would watch over true love in the cottage and aid the man who tried to make $10 go as far as $20 ought to, and make a crust taste better than a pound-cake.

He wanted a frankness to exist between the parties before they came to him. There was a sort of semi-decep-tion practiced by lovers on each other. They seldom appear as they really are. Country marriages were apt to turn out better than those of the city, as tho parties knew each other in afl their peculiarities. But in Chicago all was changed. Ho then brifly described a courtship, showing that it was a game of cards, both wero anxious not to reveal their hands both intended to cheat, and when they got married they both found it out. The deceptions were specified and denounced, foryoung men and women should coine to a simple understanding, for it would cost something to show the tempor after marriago, while it would cost but little if shown before marriage. A winning face and pleasing torm counted more with most young people than tho sweetest graces of the soul, and it often turned out that a great mistake had been made, though beauty might often accompany great oodnoss. Some of worst cases that lascome under his observation wore whore the man had married for beauty and tho woman because he was six feet one, had black whiskers etc. Marriago was a religious duty, though not commanded—it was rather a divine fact and he liked the Quakers wha said, when about to bo married, "We have boon moved to do this by tho Holy Spirit." Men and women wero often brought together by something that they could not account for. He related the story of a single man who on the Pacific saw a face and discovered that it was his wife, and he married her seven years afterward in Philadelphia, and there was never a happier coupM in tho world: and that woman told him that sho had seen her husband atthofamo time, and said to herself: "That is tho homliest face I ever saw." AlJ/true inarriagos were made in heaven, but thero must be a conviction that they aro mado above, and not by the mother or father, etc., on earth.

He gave it as his opinion that tho greater portion of the human beings who become husband. and wife And thomselves rightly married. They seldom married the ideal, and thoro wero oftentimes when they could not soo alike, and thore would be trials of faith in each other, and sometimes a doubt, and no man nad a right to get married without expocting such things. Married life had more burdens and also more happiness. Tho sweetest wife in this worlu has said things to her husband that she would not allow anybody else to say, and the best husband Homotimes might say things that if anybody else had said he would leap at him like a leopard. Amongtliocoststopay wero patience, forbearance, mutual giving and taking, no treasuring up of aharp words, anu tho sun should nevor be allowed to riso on tho wrath.

THE MECHANISM OF THO UOHT. Our brains aro seventy year clocks. The Angel of Life winds thom up once for all, then closes tho caso, ana gives the koy into the hands of the Angel of Resurrection. Tic-tae! tic-tac! go tho wheels of thought our will cannot stop them thoy cannot stop themselves sloop cannot still thom madness makes them go faster death, alono can break into tho caso, and seizing tho overswinging pendulum, which we call tho heart, silenco at last the clicking of the terrible escapement we havo carried so long beneath our wrinkled foroheads. If wo could only get at them, as we He on our pillows and count the dead beats of thought after thought, and image, after iinago, jarring through tho over-tirod organ Will nobody block those wheels, uncouple tho pinion, cut the strings that hold those weights, blow up the infernal machines with gun-powaerf What a passion comes over us sometimes, for silence and rest—that this droadful mechanism, unwinding the endless tapestry of time, embroidered with spectral figures of life and death, could havo but one brief holiday! Who can wonder that men swing themselves off from beams in hempen lassos T" that they jump from parapets into tho swift ana gurgling waters beneath? that they tako the counsel of the grim fiend who has but to utter his one peremptory monosyllabler and tho restless machino is shivered, as a case that is dashed^ upon a marble floor? Under that building which we pass every day, there aro strong dungeons, whero neither hoop nor bar, nor led-cord, nor drinkingvessel, from which a sharp fragment may be shattered, shall by any chanco be seen. There is nothing lor It when the brain is on fire with the whirling of its wheels, but to spring against tho stone wall, and silence them by ono crash. Ah, they remember that—the kind city fathers—and the walls aro nicely padded, so that one can tako such exercise as he likes, without damaging himself.

If anybody would really contrive somo kind of a leverthatone could thrust ia among the the works of this horrid automaton and check them, or alter their rate of going, what would the world give for the discovery? Men are very apt to try to get at the machine by some indirect system or other. Tbey clap on the brakes by means of opium they change the maddening monotony of tho rythm, by means of fermented liquors. It is because the brain is locked up, and we cannot touch its movements directly, that we thrust these coarse tools in tbroagh any crevice by which they may reach the interior, alter its rates of going for awhile, and at last spoil tho machine.

THE Princess Editha has joined her destiny to that of a tinman.