Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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The Abbeville Press and Banner?! BY HUGH WILSON." ABBEVILLE, 8. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 15, 1888. VOLUME XXXIII. NO. 14., || ^ Dame Dorothy's Geese. A TRUE STORY BY MARY BYXON REESE. Dame Dorothy lived by herself, all alone, She had neither husband nor children to please. She had nothing In which her affection to place, Excepting a flock ol most beautiful geese. She gave them her time and her teuderest care. She was fond of the geese, they were fond of the dame; At each click of the latch, when she opened the door, Each flew to her side, as if called by its name. Now the dame was sore ailing, she never was well, t 'Twas a cough that had troubled her many a day; All the doctors in town, with their plasters and pills, Have never been able to drive it away. But at last came a friend with a positive cure, Which never had failed?it was simple and cheap; Nothing more than a lot of wild cherries and bark Put into a lot of good brandy to steep. She was ordered to drink it early and late, So she took it at night, and she took it by day, Till the brandy was gone, but alas! not her cough, And, disgusted, she flung the soaked cher riea away. Now the geese, ever watching for some thing to eat, Saw the cherries comedown, and lo! In a trice, They gobbled them up with such cackling and greed That meant in goose language, "Dear me, oh, how nice!" Very soon they grew noisy, and silly as Such antics they cut as they waddled around; They hissed and they screamed, they quarrelled and fought, Till helpless they fell, one by one, to the ground. Now the dame was much grieved, and sore frightened beside, "They are poisoned," she cried,?I am sure that we true, She -wept for lier darlings, bemoaning her loss; Then she thought of the feathers;?and what did she do, Bat lift each one tenderly into her lap. And pluck off Its feathers with many a sigh ; Then naked and limp, what was left of each goose She tearfully tossed on the common to die. Very soon all were dead, yes, dead drunk, and they lay Till the child of the morning awoke them nntrlflit. How silly they looked and how foolish they felt, For never had geese been in such a sad plight. Each looked at his neighbor, all anxious to learn The cause that such terrible change could produce, Then hied to the pond each to see for himself What bratuly would do for the highest toned goose. You know it is common for men who are wise, To drink day by day, and their families abuse, But for sensible geese to get humanly drunk, And suffer so much, was there any excuse? Now children, no matter who takes the vile stuff, To eat or to drink It, whichever they please, It will bring them to nakedness, shame and disgrace. Just the same as It did poor Dorothy's geese. ?Advocate. "Wanted?A Boy!" "Wanted? A boy to run errands and make himself generally useful." Mr. Peppergrass came out, with his cap on the back of his head and his spectacles pushed high up on his forehead, to wafer this written notice on xl IJ- L!? ,.i A 1 4Z lilt; siue ui ins s>uue. Aim luniute9 afterward, (it might have been less, or it might have been more) a crowd of eager little lads assembled around it, standing on tip-toe to read every word. Johnny Jarvis had just been dis charged from his place as cash-boy in a dry goods store, because business was dull and customers few. He was a fine tall boy of twelve, with bright black eyes and a laughing moutb, and he didn't at all like having nothing to do. Charlie Warner wanted a situation because there were a good many little Warners, and nothing to feed them with since their father died. Louis Brown had been out of regular employment ever since the China faetorv closed in the fall. For these little fellows belonged to the innumerable array of boys who cannot play and enjoy the bright hours as they go by, but must work and drudge, and count every day lost that day does not bring in its corresponding wages. Children, did you ever think how hard the world was on these poor little toilers? It was not long before Mr. Peppergrass's store was full of boys who "wanted to run errands and make themselves generallv useful." Big boys and little boys and shabby boys?boys who leaned up against the flour and potato barrels, as if they had left their back-bones at home: boys who stood straight up?boys who took oft* their caps, and boys who kept them on. And still they kept com jug. "Hold on !" said Mr. Peppergrass. "This will do !" So lie took down the notice and bolted the store door. "Now, I will proceed to business," said Mr. Peppergrass, rumpling up liis liair and adjusting his spectacles so as to make his keen gray eyes sharper than ever. A few penetrating glances, half a dozen questions, and the number of boys was speedily reduced to our three little friends?Johnnie Jarvis, Charlie Warner, and Louis Brown. They were all three willing and anxious to work ; all three brought good rec? mmendations, had honest faces, wanted to enter on tbe situation at onoe, and wrote neat, round hands. "Humph ! humph !" said Mr. Peppergrass, with his hands locked under his coat-tails behind. "There's three of you, and I can't find work for three boys!" The little lads said nevera word, but i looked eagerly at the grocer, each one hoping that he might be the boy selected "to run errands and make himself generally useful." Mr. Peppergrass stared hard at the spice-boxes aud preserve-bottles in the window frowned at the cracker-boxes, and finally made up his mind. "Brown !" said he. "Sir!" said Louis Brown. "I'll try you on a few sums. I want my boy to understand the first principles of arithmetic!" "I am good at figures, sir!" cried Louis. "Are you?" said Mr. Pepper. "Very well; I'll give you a trial." He wrote down a labyrinth of figures on a slate, and then opened the door of a little room which communicated with the store. "Sit down here, Brown, and work on these sums," said he. "I'll come to you in a few minutes." T_1 T : 1 Wnnnnf I joining jui via auu vuanic huuki looked blankly at each other, then at the grocer. "Please, sir, what are we to do?" said they. "You are to wait," said Mr. Peppergrass, shortly. "Your turn will come in due time." The sums were not especially hard, and Louis Brown was quick at figures. He soon despatched his task, and began to look around. It was a stuffy, close-smelling little room, with one window close up to the ceiling, 'and a curious, old fashioned book-case or desk with glass doox-s, liuecl with faded red silk, in the corner. "I do wonder what Mr. Peppergrass keeps there ?" said Louis, to himself ; and after he had wondered a little while, he got up and went softly toward the desk. "The key is in the lock," said he: "there can't be any harm in looking. Perhaps they are story-books?or may be curious shells and stones?or?" As these thoughts crossed his mind. he opened the silk-lined door. Buzz-zz?whew ! out flew a beautiful pearlcolored dove. Louis stood aghast. In vain were his efforts to capture the little creature. It fluttered from the top of the book-case to a pile of boxes beyond, and thence to the toy mouldings of the windows, vg if it enjoyed the chase and in the midst of it all, in came Mr. Peppergrass. "Eh? What?" said he. How did this happen ?" r "Please, sir," said Louis, hanging his head, the bird got out, and I was trying to catch it again." "Got out, did it!" said Mr. Peppergrass. "It must be a very ingenious bird, to be able to open the desk from Lt t IT l,At> T'm lue ouusiut; : iuu may gu, wj. j. quite certain that you won't suit me. I don't approve of meddlers." So saying he opened a door which led directly out into the back street, and dismissed poor Louis Brown without further ceremony. "Now, Pearlie," said he to the little dove, who perched on his shoulder at once, "you can go back to your nest. You have helped me out of the difficulty this time." So he let the little creature fly out into the yard, Avhere it belonged. Charlie Warner was the next one ushered into the stuffy smelling room. He, too, speedily finished his sums* and began to look around him for something to occupy his attention. "Oh, my! What a lot of boxes," said he; "piled up one above another, like a Tower of Babel? What can Mr. Peppergrass keep in all of them ?" Charlie listened. No advancing footsteps were near, fue looKea cautiously about him, but he saw nothing. Then he rose from his chair, and crept toward the mysterious pile of boxes. They were of all shapes, rather small, and fitted with loose, wooden covers. Charlie lifted the lid of one. It was full of English walnuts. "Hello!" thought Charlie. "I'min luck! Old Peppergrass will never miss two or three of these," and he pocketed a handful. The next box was full of beautiful Malaga raisins. Charlie nipped two or three bloomy, wrinkled fellows ofF the stem, and ate them. He was fond of raisins. "What next?" he said, tugging at the covers of the third box, which seemed to fit a little closer. Ail or a suauen, nowever, 11 new on with a jerk, filling the air with Cayenne pepper, and setting poor Charlie to sneezing as if lie meant to sneeze his head off. Mr. Peppergrass bustled in. "All," said he. "I see! "But yui needn't have been in such a hurry to examine my stock, young man. I haven't engaged you yet, and 1 don't intend to." And poor Charlie sneaked away through the back door, which Mr. Peppergrass held politely open for him feeling that his curiosity had ruined his cause. It was sometime before the Cayenne pepper was sufficiently cleared from, the atmosphere for Jonnnie Jarvis to take his turn at the sums in decimal fractions, but he worked them patiently out, and then sat looking around him, as the others had done. But he was too honorable to dream of medding. He, too, wondered what was in the boxes, but he didn't do anything more than wonder. He heard a mysterious rustling behind the faded-silk doors of the old book-case, where Mr. Peppergrass had shut up his pet kittent but he never thought of opening it to see what it all meant. He saw a glass jar of mixed candies on the mantle, (sly Mr. Peppergrass had counted every one, beside covering it with a dusty lid, so that the least finger-mark would have been quite visible) but he sat there quite still until Mr. Peppergrass bounced into the room. The old grocer looked at the candy jar, he glanced at the unmolested boxes, and opening the desk, saw the kiften fast asleep in the comer. "Ab!" said Mr. Peppergrass, with a long breath. "Yes, exactly! You are the boy I want. Come right back into the store, and I'll set you to work j weigmng ouc tea auu conee." And tbat was the way Mr. Peppergrass suited himself with a boy. ?Golden Days. Watch Yonr Tongue. It is your tongue ; it belongs to you, and it is the only one for which you are responsible. Your neighbor's tongues may need care also, but that is their business; this is yours. See that it is properly attended to. Watch your tongue ; itneeds watching. It "is a fire"?watch it. It is a helm which guides the vessel; let the helmsman keep wide awake. It can bless or it can curse ; it can poison or heal; it can pierce hearts and blight hopes: it can sow discord and separate chief friends. Watch your tongue. No one but you can take of tbat tongue. You are ts only ruler. Your neighbors may t__z_ j. ___ / fx ? ? naie it or iear n, or wish mej wuiu bridle it: but they cannot do it. You have the power?watch that tongue. That tongue has already got you into trouble ; it may do it again ; it is "set on fire of hell." It burns up peace, blessing, reputation, hope. It causes sad days, weary nights, tearful eyes and heavy hearts. "If a man will love life and see good days let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips to speak no guile." Watch that tongue. It is the glory of man. It distinguishes him from the brutes. It was bought with blood by the Son of God. He claims it as his. It should speak his praises: misemployed, it may degrade yourself and those around you. You are charged to attend to it. Watch that tongue. The Lord watches that tougue. "There is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, 0 Lord, thou knowest it altogether." For every idle word we must give account in the day of judgment. What will be the record of that tongue then ? I Wot/>Vi flint, trmcnp Adouiram Judson On War. The one hundredth anniversary of Judson's birth will be August 9, 1888, and should be celebrated in Maiden, Mass., his birthplace, with his son present and participating, This is what he wrote to Dr. Noah Worcester : "I hail the establishment of peace societies as one of the most auspicious signs of the present eventful era of the world: Since war has been universally advocated and applauded by nearly all classes of men, it appears to me, that it is not optional with any to remain silent on this great question. Thus remaining, they must be considered is belonging to the war party. I have for some time determined to make whatever efforts were necessary to comply with the dictates of conscience, and wash my hands of the blood that | is shed in war. I beg the privilege of being a member of the Massachusetts Peace Society, The enrolling of one's name among the members of a peace society, I consider as virtually saying I regret the crime and blood with which the miserable race of man has been deluged from age to age. I repent of whatever expressions or acts in my past life may havo cherished the war-spirit in myself or others. I repent that I have so long delayed to enter any protest against the practice of war by some overt act?a measure which appears to be, in the present state of things, the indispensable duty of every Christian ; and I resolve that hereafter I will endeavor to diffuse the sentiments of peace as far as lies in my power." A paper bag, such as sugar and tea comes in iroui uie grocery, iorras a very good mitten to protect the bund and wri9t while engaged in polishing a stove. To train a flock of sheep raise a lamb at the house, teach it come when called and.tlieu putit with the flock. By calling the petted lamb the others will follow. When a hinge creaks put a little graphite or soft lead pencil on the place of fraction. A solution of pearish in water thrown upon a fire, will extinguish it immediately. Damp salt will remove the discoloration of cups and saucers caused by tea and careless washing. Pine sawdust in nest boxes is said to keep lice from fowls. Cellars should be kept continuously clean, pure and with healthy air. The best broom is of light green color, which indicates that the material is of the best flexibility and toughness. The cheap broom corn is of a sickly yellow or lemon color. The Little Stranger. As Doctor Byron was one day pass iug to the house, lie was accosted by t very little boy, who asked him if Ik wanted any sauce, meaning vegetables, The doctor inquired if such a tin} thing was a market man. "No, sir, father is," was the prompt answer The doctor said, "Bring me in some squashes," and he passed into the house, sending out the change. In s few moments the child returned, bringing buck part of the change ; the doctor told him he was welcome to it, bul the child would not take it back, saying his father would blame him, Such singular maimers in a child attracted his attentiou, and he began tc examine the child attentively. He wa* evidently poor: his little jacket was pieced and patched with almost every kind of cloth, and his trowsers darned with so many colors it was difficult tc tell the original fabric, but scrupulously neat and clean withal. The boy very quietly endured the scrutiny oi the doctor while holding him at arm's piiorf.h and examining his face. At length he said ; "You seem :i nice little boy; won't you come and live with me, and be a doctor?" "Yes, sir," said the child. "Spoken like a man," said the doctor, patting his head as he dismissed him. A few weeks passed on, when one day Jim came to say there was a little boy with a bundle down stairs wanting to see the doctor, and would not tell his business to any one else. "Send him up," was the answer; aud in a few moments he recognized the boy of the squashes; he was dressed in a new though coarse suit of clothes, his hair very nicely combed, his shoes brushed up, and a little bundle tied in a homespun check handkerchief on his arm. Deliberately taking off his hat, and laying it down with his bundle, he walked up to the doctor saying. "I have come, sir." "Come for what, my child?" "To live with you and be a doctor," said the child, with the utmost naivete The first impulse of the doctor was to laugh immoderately; but tho imperturbable gravity of the little thiug rather sobered him as he re called, too, his former conversation, and he avowed he felt he needed nc addition to his family. "Did'your father consent to you coming?" he asked. "Yes, sir." "What did he say ?" "I told him you wanted me to come and live with you and be a doctor; and he said you were a very good man, and I might come as soon as my clothes were ready." "And your mother, what did she say?" "She said Dr. Byron would do what he said he would, and God had provid' ed for me." And said he, "I have on a new suit of clothes surveying himself, "and here is another in the bundle," undoing the kerchief and displaying them, with two little shirts white as snow, and a couple of neat checked aprons, so carefully folded, il was plain none but a mother would have doue it. The sensibilities of the doctor were awakened to see the fearless, the undoubting trust with which tliat'poor couple had bestowed their child upon him, and such a child! His cogitations were not long; he thought of Moses in the bulrushes abandoned to Providence ; and above all he thought of the child tbat was carried into Egypt?and that divine Savior had said, "Blessed be litlle children ;" and be called for his wife, saying, "Susan, dear, I think we pray in church that God will have mercy upon all young children." "To be sure we do," said the wondering wife ; "and what then ?" "And the Saviour said, 'Whosoever receiveth one such little child in his name, receiveth me.' Take this child in his name, and take care of him." From this hour the good couple received him to their hearts and home. It did not then occur to them that one of the most eminent physicians and best men of the age stood before them iii the person of that child ; it did not occur to them that this little creature thus thrown upon their charity, was destined to be their staff and stay in declining age?a protector to their daughter, and more than son to themselves all this M as then unrevealed ; but they cheerfully received the child they believed Providence had committed to their care, and if ever beneficence was rewarded, it was in this instance. ?Parlor Magazine, ? A National Sin. 13Y HENRY VAN DYKK, D. D. Righteousness cxaitetli a nation ; liut sin is a reproach to any people.?Prov. xiv. 31. The central idea of this text is the moral accountability of nations. Men are respouisble for their collective conduct, lis well as for their .separate action. Governments, states, laws,! organized societies, are to be tried by ethical standard. The ultimate question in regard to them is not, what is actual, nor what is expedient, but what is right. * * * * * That which is unjust and cruel and wicked for men to do when they are acting singly, is (unjust and cruel and wicked for them to do when they are acting collectively. The number of person swhoare engaged in an action does not change its quality. Public iniquity is as bad as private theft^organizea and multipied. The welfare'of all peoples, and of the world, depends upon the recognition of the fact that moral principles apply to stales as well as to individuals, and that "righteousness exalti eth a nation, but sin is a reproach to i any people." * * The punishment of a national sin | does not have to wait for the day of judgment. It begins at once. Audi it i usually proceeds along the line of the , transgression, paying its interest in a ; currency stamped with its own image | and superscription. ! The public conscience must be quicki ened. A moral sentiment must be - aroused ; and this sentiment must be . consolidated into a general sense of , equity ; and this sense of equity must ' be embodied in a law of equal pro tection for all men in the posession of . their intellectual Dronertv. Has the Church nothing to do with this? Has the Bible nothing to say ' about it? Let me give you three texts * to meditate upon : > Lei him that stole, steal no more.?Eph. iv. 28. , Render therejore to all their dues.?Rom. xlii. 7. Provide things honest in the sight of all men-?2 Cor. via. 21. , [May we not add to these vigorous words called out by a national sin of literary piracy far less demoralizing than war, that they are equally appli' cable to that sum of iniquities hal; lowed by religion, venerable by age, sacred though tradition which certain men, even ministers of the Gospel seem to think necessary to insure the coming of the Kingdom of Christ! We add a few more texts : Thou shall not kill,?Ex. xxx. 13. Jesus said, thou shall not kill.?Matt. xix. 18. Love your enemies.?Mali. v.44. All things therefore whatsoever you would that men should do to you do ye even so to them.?Mali lii. 12. Love is the fulfilment of the law.?Rom.xiii. 10 "Put up Thy Sword." REV. DK. A. A. MINER ON THE PROPOSAL TO FORTIFY THE SEA COAST. In the Columbus Avenue Universallist Church, Rev. Dr. Miner preached . April 22, from the words of the 27th chap, of Matthew, "Put up again thy sword in its place." After alluding to corrupt methods in, politics and gov. ernment, he went on to say: We have this picture before us. OurUuited States Congress is to-day proposing the appropriation of some $125,000,000? that is to say, $9,000,000 for 14 years. The proposition is in the hands of the Senate committee ready to.be reported to build fortifications at some 25 to 40 points on our sea coast, from the extremity of Maine up to the Pacific i coast 'far and up to Oregon. This ' proposition aims at protecting us ' against the aggression of foreign ' nations. Has any foreign nation ; threatened to interfere with us? Who proposes to assail us? Do we not intend to mind our own business? Be just and fear not. Why should we 1 wasto millions on fortifications, not one of which could stand an hour be. fore the great armies of the world today. We have not a fort on our entire const that could stand an hour; before the most powerful guns at present employed in European warfare. So , when we shall have poured out our | money like water, and shall have built 1 fortifications at various points; and i armed them with the most powerful armaments which we can command, and expended millions of money on s manning these fortifications, we shall then have a very faint show of defence, and there will be long stretches of ' coast to which foreign powers can send their ships. Our money will have been wasted, and our defences amount to nothing. Besides, this $125,000,000 which they propose to ap propriate now will beonly the begining of the expenditure. New calls will be' , made upon us year after year, and ship . after ship will be placed on our shoulder. I repeat, the question is : What I nation will undertake to attack us ? Great Britian you can almost take up , in your band. Our thousands and thousands of miles of sea coast it is ' impossible to defend, and we shall have spent millions on millions with out avail. We shall certainlv use up ; i our surplus, and we may find it necessary to keep up protection in order to raise the means of going on, Consider the State of the European ; nations to-day. There are 4,000,000 ( men under arms in time of peace, with 17,000,000 registered as ready te step into the ranks should they be ; called into service and war break out. Consider that the anual expenditures to-day of the European nations for : their armies and navies is $4,000,000,000; consider, further, that their aggregate war debts exceed $24,000,00u,000, wjth an annual intesest of nearly ' $1,000,000,000?an aggregate of indebtness that has increased more than $10,000,000,000 within the last 20 years. ' Have not those nations business j enough at home? Look at the dis- ; turbed condition of their populations. ' Not a nation in Europe is at ease or at peace. Look at Great Britian, the only power capable of grappling with us. lias not she enough business on , hand, what with Ireland, India and the difficulty of holding the balance ' of power between liussia, Germany and France ? Why, then, this fear? We arc a people whose interest lie at home. What do we want with Canada, for example? Nothing at all. Why docs our Congress propose to expend millions of dollars to fortify points of our coast and and leave great stretches of it unprotected? Merely, is it, because it will gratify the constituencies of many congressmen to have so much money to disburse. How long shall it be thus ? The word of the Master is "Put up your sword in itsplaco," Is it not time to begin to realize that Chrsist was the prince of peace ? Is it not time to create peace on earth and good will ? Is it not time, that the great leading Christian nations had learned 3ome better way of keeping the peace than that of Bismarck, that of England, of France, of Russia?a way which Congress has not the manliness to refuse to imitate ? How many more thousands of lives must be sacrificed, and millions of treasure wasted ? We must look the , question m the face as Christian men and women.?Boston Ilcrald. i | Here is sometliiug well worth uot- * ing: I John Wesley afiirmed that these i words, spoken by Bishop Potter, who i ordained him deacon, made a lasting i mjpression upon his miud: "If you i desire to be extensively useful, do not spend you time or strength in contending for or against such things as are i of a disputable nature, but in testify- i against open, notorious vice, and in promoting real, essential holiness." I My Whistling Neighbor. This story was first told about twenty-five years ago?but it is a tale that richly deserves to be "twice told." We had moved into a new house, situated about the center in a row of len, all run up together, in hurried, mushroom fashion, and divided from each other by partitions of brick so thin that sound was ouly a little deadened in passing through. For the first three or four nights 1 was unable to sleep, except in snatches, for so mauy noises came to my ears, originating, apparantly, in my own domicile, that anxiety in regard to burglars was constantly excited. Both on (]id rtrcf onrl connnt ninrlifa T morlo o iuv iii^u wiivi owwiiu utguM x uiauv a journey through the house ia the small hours, but found no intruders on my premises. The sound that disturbed me came from some of my neighbors, who kept later vigils than suited my habits. "There it is again!" said I, lookiug up from my paper, as I sat reading on the second day after taking posession of my new home. "That fellow is a nuisance." "What fellow?" asked my wife, whose countenace showed surprise at the remark. She was either unconscious or unaffected by the circumstance that anoyed my sensitive ears. "Don't you hear it?" said I. "Hear what?" "That everlasting whistle." "O!" A smile played over my wife's face. "Does it annoy you ?" "I can't say that lam particularly annoyed by it yet; but I shall be if it's to go on incessantly. A man whistles for want of thought, and this very fact will?" "I'm not so sure of that," remarked my wife, interrupting me, "the poet notwunstanaing. jl wouia say mat he whistles from exuberant feelings. Our neighbor has a sunny temper, no doubt; what, I am afraid, caunot bt said of our neighbor on the other side. I've never heard him whistle ; but his scolding abilities are good; and, judging from two days, observation, he is not likely to permit them to grow feeble for want of use." I did not answer, but went on with my reading, silenced, if not reconciled to my whistling neighbor. Business matters annoyed me through the day, and I felt moody and depressed as I. took my course homeward at nightfall. I was not leaving my cares behind me. Before shutting my account books and locking my fire-proof, I had made up a bundle ol troubles to carry away with me, and my shoulder stooped beneath the burden, I did not bring sunlight into my dwelling as I crossed, with dull, deliberate steps, its threshold. The flying feet that sprung along the bal^ anu the eager voices that filled, suddenly, the air in a sweet tumult of sound as I entered, were quiet aRd hushed in a little while. I did not repel my precious one's for they were very dear to my heart; but birds do not sing joyously except in the sunshine, and my presence naa ease a snaaow: Tiie songs of my home birds died into mournful chirpings?they sat quiet among the branches. 1 saw this, and understood the reason. I condemned myself: I reasoned against the folly of bringing worldly cares into the home sanctuary ; 1 endeavored to rise out of my gloomy state. But neither philosophy nor a self-compelling effort was of any avail. I was sitting, with my hand partly shading my lace from the light, still in conflict with myself, when I became conscious of the lifting of the shadows that were around me, and ol a freer respiration. The change was slight, but still very perceptible. 1 was begining to question as to its cause, when my thought recognized an agency which had been operative through the sense of hearing, 'though not before externally perceived in consequence of my abstracted state. My neighbor was whistling "Begone, dull care." Now, in my younger days, I had whistled and whistled and sung the air and words of this cheerful old song hundreds of times, and every line was familiar to memory. I listened with pleased interest for a little while, and then, as my changing state gave power to resolutions quick born of better reason, I said, in my thought, emphatically, as if remanding an evil spirit, "Begone, dull care !" and the liend left me. Then I spoke cheerfully, and in a tone of interest to quiet little May, who had walked round me three or four times, wondering in her little heart, no doubt, what held her at a distance from her papa, and who was now seated by her mother, leaning her flaxen head, fluted all over with glossy curls, against her knee. She sprang, at my voice, and was in my lap at a bound. What thrill of pleasure the tight clasp of her arms sent to my heart! O, love, thou art full of blessing! From that moment I felt kinder toward my neighbor. He had done me good?had played before me as David played before Saul, exercising the evil spirit of discontent. There was no 1 longer a repellent sphere, and soon all my little one's were close around me, ind happy as in other times with their father. After they all were in bed, and I sat ; .done with my wife, the cares that "in- j fest the day" made a new assault upon j tne, and vigorously strove to regain 1 their lost empire in my mind. I felt Approaches, and the gradual receeding of cheerful thoughts with every advau- ; 3ing step they made. In my struggle j to maintain that tranquility which so strengthens the soul for work ind duty, I arose and walked the ; floor. My wife looked up to me with inquiry on her face. Then she 1..*- 4V11 1.^.. .1- ? lUt lACi fj CO laii UJ/VJLl 11C1 1IUUU1L- YYU1A, and as I glanced toward her at every turn in my walk, I saw an expression , of tender concern on her lips. She understood that I w;is not at ease in '{ my mind, and the knowledge troubled ber. ( "How wrong in me," I said in selfrebuke, "thus to let idle brooding over mere outside things, which such brooding can in no way afreet, trouble the peace of home;'*' and I made a ne\y ' iflbrt to rise again into a sunnier, region. But the fiend hud me in his [dutches again, and i could not release myself. Now it was that my David i came anew to my relief. Suddenly his : clear notes rang out in the air, "Away with melancholy." I cannot tell which worked the instant revulsion of feeling that came? . the cheerful air, the words of the song j which were called to remembrance by < the air, or the associations of by-gone J, years that were revived. But the spell was potent and complete. I was myself again. Whether or not the cure was permanent will be told next week. 4^* Arbitration from Fear, and Arbitration from Lore. Gen. Sheridan thinks that In one hundred years from now Arbitration will rule the whole world. Why does he think so ? Because dynamite and other explosives, and breech-loading guns will be so destructive of tinman life that mankind will not diare to fight. Gen. Sheridan, by boldly and ' C confidently expressingsuchan opinion ? in the glimmering dawn of the twen<v tieth century, has conferred more good * -, on the world than all the men-of-warhave done since the angels sang "Glo*-"1 ry to God in the hignest, on earth N peace, good will toward men," But this great arbitration power, which is soon to "rule the whole world," is to > come, not by the mighty power of Invp hut hv lhft michfv nnirar nf taar What an everlasting disgrace lo man, as a rational, immortal being,?taking arbitration as a powerful medietas for the dreadful chronic disease of war, and forced upon him by dire necessity, to save his life, when it should be tak< en as a delicious cordial from the hand of Jesus, the Prince of Peaoe and Philanthropist of all nations?sal mankind. Well, blessed be "the God , of love and peaoe." Arbitration from fear, alone, is infinitely1 more reasonable, infinitely more gloriouB than all the human slaughter the world has ever seen in all baa and in all good causes, from the slaughter of Abel to the present hour, or ever could see if men should or oould live on this Globe as they do now through all eternity.? J. II. in Meaaengercf Peaoe. British Baptists, "The Jih-pemnn a 1 aaHinir TlanfJat ^ English paper, remarks: ''Prepara? 1 tion for war is, in modern times, the M great cause of war. It was undoubWedly the origin of the terrific confiM|fl|| between Germany and France. JaHB olden times, when every man armed, quarrels and murders wero^H of very frequent occurence. Nowadays, when men live unprepared for fighting, numbers pass their lisaA without a single struggle. There is an old Boman motto, 'If you desire peace, be prepared for war.' As generally understood, it is one of the grossest falsehoods ever palmed upon man? kind. It is the 'para belgum' spirit that evokes war. And the probability is that, if ever our country suffers the terrors of an invasion, the origin will be found in some boast or instUt springing out of our developing militarism. Messenger of Peace. Peace and War.?Peace is greatly the beauty of the world. War is greatly the horror of the world. Peace never grows less beautiful by consider? ation. War never grows less horrible by consideration. Peace is gentle, pa ueiii, ueuevoieiiu Hivery goou iiaurishes in time of Peace. Every evil Increase in time of war. Peace is meek and modest. War Is haughty and proud. Peace does good and never trumpets with loud voice its loving deeds. War is boastful of what it claims to have done for mankind, and erects, with unblushing face, raonumeats to its own remembrance and glory. Peace?contiunal, universal Peace? would make the world a paradise of beauty. War?continual, universal war?would make the world a hell indeed. Let every man, woman, and child do all they can for Peace? the world cannot have too much Peace. Let every man, woman, and child do all they cau against war?the world cannot have too little war. Let us all read very often and carefully .Christ's Sermon on the mount?it is full of Peace and no war. Friends' Review, Great men are not neoessary to a ?v church, if, as a body, it bears great and permanent fruits. Great scholars can be done without, so long as opportunity for profiting by the best learning or the world is placed within the reach of all by sound and widely diffused education. Great preachers are not at all essential, since the power is not of men but of God. Moses' wish was exemplary : "Would that all the Lord's people were prophets." The Psalmist says : "The Lord giveth the word : the women that publish the tidingg are a great host." Only one, the last, of ?- J the Apostles was a man of very superior intellect or learning, and it la doubtful whether Paul was of prepossessing appearance and delivery. Hardly a weaker argument can be offered on behalf of a clerioal system, with "theological seminary" equipment, than the assertion that, without there, no Spurgeous or Talmages are likely to arise among Friends. Better a Socitey all whose members are living, working Christian men and women, than one which will produce scores of the most brilliant pulpit oratnrs that thewnrld ever knew. Meuenger of Peace When such men as General Grant said, "I look forward toan epoch when a court recognized by all nation wills settle all international differences, Instead of resorting to standing armies and the awful consequences of war;'1 when such men as General Sheridan say, ixs he said in a late speech in Philadelphia, "I believe that before another centennial of our notion the principle fof arbitration will completely sheathe the sword;" such sentiment and utterances supplemented hv Gar Held, Blaine, Hayes, Arthur* Evarts* and hosts of others; by the great mem* orial signed by 283 members of the British House of Commons, presented 1 At.-. DxWl'olt I [)y iLie jjiiuou uopuiauua IU IUC pim1* dent, accompaiued by the presentation of nearly one hundred letters from members of the House of Lords, bishops, clergymen and publicists, earnestly commending thejobject of the memorial an Anglo-American treaty of arbitration ?surely the world must be moving towards the time when nations shall learn war no more. "I asked forty yonu# pewple who da not go to church to coma to our prayer meeting this month and thirty-one of hem have come." In honor prefering one another Is ft lost star from the galaxy of modern sainthood. After I am served the rest for youlias been submitted for |ii, [is better suited to the changed ordet of things.