Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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IFEDD ES NOT COUNT BY YEARS. Life does not count bv years? 'Tis circumstance that makes the solid sum Of our existence. Smiles and tears, ' And hopes and fears, unbidden come. To some, a day seems but. a fleeting Hour? Where pleasure waits there is no call for ' tears. To others, writhing 'neath affliction's power, I A single day is lengthened into years. Life doe? not count by years? The polished brow its youthful look may hold, E'en while the heart, stuug by the cold world's sneers. Lies in the tortured bosom sore and old. In this great world of mingled good and ill Philosophy's clear page reveals the truth That, view life's stormy problem as we will. 'ils our surruiuiuujga iu.il ma*c aj,c ui youth. ?Francis S. Smith. in AV><- Yor': Weekly. JOHN LONffS SACEIFICE 1 BY 'WILLIAM BAYARD 1IAI.E. It had been a bitter summer for John Long. At least, it ought to have been. It was a miserable caret r, indeed, that he regarded, if he cast his eye backward over his life. After he had thrown away several years and considerable money at college, and bad wasted some months in a business office, he had employed himself as a campaign speaker in a far off State?tirst ou one side, but fiually on the other. After the election, when ho had used \ all the money he hud made and all he j could borrow at home, he had tramped j to Cincinnati, for miles and borrowed a hundred dollars of his uncle. Then, with a harum-scarum chum, he projected a magazine. The prospectus was brilliant; after the first number the editors left the city, John going home and the chum into sanctuary to develop some new scheme. The new scheme was developed. It I took the shape of a school for boys?the J Kentucky Classical College, it was to be called. The chum aforesaid furnished j the capital this time. John procured the decrees of B. A. and Ph. I)., they got out a flowing catalogue, and the Kentucky Classical College opened with tine prospects on September 17th. By October 1, two boys had come. They were | graduated with honors on the 'JJ, and j the faculty got home as best it could. fc'o John had been home all summer. | Ti> be sure, he had not been idle. He j had laid out a trip through Europe, j which he proposed to tramp after the j fashion of Bayard Taylor, writing letters to defray expenses. He had corresponded with all the leading journals, but somehow had not succeeded in impressing any sufficiently to get an advance upon which to start. Then, too, he had opened the Great Western Literary Bureau, which institution read, criticized and touched up manuscripts for would-be authors, and did other such literary work. Tins was what the prospectus announced; however, it was never called upon to do any work. It was becoming a very apparent thing that John Long was "no account." And' he knew it well enough; none realized \ more than he that he was visionarv, im 'nt | pruciicauiu aim me.> , m ? own schemes, and had no faith in their success, yet he vowed he would starve before he would work like other men. If ever he had a serious moment he must have dispised himself; yet I do not know tliat he did. He seemed to pique himself on his lack of what we call common sense; he i avowed himself brother tofoois; he used to say that, like Lamb, his sympathies were with the foolish virgins and the rnau who built his house upon the sand. I have known him to spend his last dollar for a theatre scat, or for a dinner at i an uptown hotel, when he knew ho would : have no supper and no bed at night. If John Long had had the genius of j Poe or Goldsmith you might admire him. j We expect improvidence as to common I thiugs in men of genius. Hut John was ( only ;; commonplace fellow: never did a j brilliant thing that I know of. lie j might have made a successful man, as j men go: he was, perhaps. :is bright as the average: but at a certain point in his liie he failed to he impressed with the practicalness of living, and went off iuto idling aud dreaming. Kow, there was Arthur Brooks. The i two bovs had a fair .-tart in life; I be- ' lieve John was the more clever: but j Arthur always got on best. John was a i disappointment, even when he was a boy, and it was so through all his life. He lacked the element of success. John aud Arthur were irreat friends: they grew out of boyhood together, and were loyal each other as young men? yes, even after they became rivals for the affections of Lucy Harris. What on earth had become of what little wit John Long had when he thought of entangling a woman in his own miserable existence I do not know. Cut Lucy undoubtedly liked him. You do not care to know how ?jreat friends they became: how, of all living beings, John poured out his heart to her, and how tender and good she was to him. You might like to kuow that she was beautiful, with a bewitching face aud true eyes, and all that could be asked for in a lovely girl. Ah, they were good friends, John and Lucy, and they talked of those things that burdened most heavily their foolish young hearts: the mystery of that life into which they had been flung and that irigntenea tnera wnen nrst tney were awakened to it, the awfalness of life and of the sceptre of life. And so John grew to love the sweet girl with all his heart. It is little enough good that can be said of John Long, but his life was the better that he carried through it always a pure love for Lucy. He never toid her of it. It is not to be doubted that he would have been foolish enough to have done so: but one evening, when he was home the last time, she told him as she would have told her brother of her betrothal to Arthur ] Brooks. It was not till she was through j that the realization of what it was to John j flashed upon her And .John told her he | would uo away. l?ff T-/..-IT l.;.vK+ Tf Kn that after that he would have liked to have made a man of himself, but his old habits were upon him. He wandered about the South for a few mouths, persuading himself that he was studying the race question, and that presently he would write a series of magazine articles that would startle the country. Finally he brought up at Atlanta with his money gone. Of course, he had to look for work then, and, with unusual good luck, he managed to get a position on one of the morning papcre. * It would have been strange if he had held it longer than four months, and Jie j did not. it was early one morning in I, October.after his own work wis up,that, as he 3;it st the telegraph editor's desk, I his eyes ivcre caught by a special which had ji:sl come in. Ii was the story of the murder of William Harris, the father of Lucy. He had been found dead and by poison. A dispute, a peculiar will, and other circumstances indicating motive, pointed to the newly married husband of Lucy Harris as the murderer. Arthur L5roV.cs had b?ea arrested and was now in the county jail. The dispatch spoke of smothered talk of lynching, and said the jail was an old one and not stron?. John Long easily pictured the violence with whi'-h the old love for Brooks would turn into an overwhelming wave of wrath; lie kucw there would be no stopping to weigh the evidence. John Long walked out into the early morning air. He drank in the charm of life. The shadows lay long, and there was a thriil ami a jov in every breath. IIow hard for Brooks, with the blood of youth iu his veins, to yield his life. How could Lucy live without hint? Never before had John so felt the pride of life as he did now that it seemed that his rival was about to lose his. The earth was never so bright, the earth was never so fair. If you will look in the Atlanta of tkat day you will ritid this from his pen: ' The china trees are hanging out their banners, yellow, golden, glorious, bright signals of the changing season. The hickory aud the maple are blushing a little and the dogwood has lighted his torch in the still embers of dyiag summer. The persimmon is taking on a color that fills the eyes of old Br'er 'Possum. The honevsuckle blossoms again around the porch, there is no touch ot change in the wisteria vine, and the autumn flowers in the garden borders are gray. The change lacks the melancholy aspect of the North?the saddened skies, the haze-hidden hills that seem to stretch into some far country, where lies the longed-for carcassome. The birds havo for the most part broke up housekeeping, and arc frolicking with their families in the woods. Iu tiie summer's interlude the mocking bird is renewing its melodious utterances, and there is an added sweetness in its note. And the change will go on. growing richer and more wanton iu coloring, till the cold hand of winter tears down the whole royal panorama." i> Tvm nn Hft'n thinrr that the man that could appreciate life thus should give it up. Nona found hiin on the north-bound train; by the next noon he was in Cincinnati; aud by night home. The village was quiet; he weut to his old room and went to bed. During the night a train went thundering through the valley; he heard the whistle and the roar of the fires when the furnace door wa3 opened, he heard it cross the bridge and go down between the hills till the sound faded into an echo, and theu died. And, as in years before, his fancy followed' it through the night, out of the valley, into day and the warm and cheerful world. The morning came; tiie light crept through the little panes as it had done before. John Long had been thinking as he rolled homeward on the train; he had laid another scheme, and he felt sure this one would not fail. Aud the last twenty years had passed from his mind, aud he was living again his old innocent childhood. He walked out through the village and stopped at the house on the hill, where he had come to live with his aunt when his father in the city died: he looked from its veranda far down the dusty pike, aud remembered how, his first spring there, the waters of ! the river rose and covered it as far as the I eve could reach. lie stood lon^r and ! O | watched the shadows chase each other across the hills on the other side of the valley, as he used to do, long summer days. There wns no mistaking the temper of i the people with regard to the murder of William Harris. With the night shadows fell a hush on the towu. Mothers gathered their children into the house, aud closed fast the doors. Men might have been seen straggling down the east pike, on horse and afoot. They stopped on the first bridge out. and at midnight, from out the shadows of its ancient rafters. a troop of silent men marched forth. Straight t > th?? jail they went; they never asked for the keys, no oiv wanted them. A stout si-ick on the shoulders of a dozen m^n broke down the doors at a few blows. They knew the cell: it hud but frail bars. and they were soon down. In thirty minutes after the lynchers left t'aeir rendezvous Arthur Brooks was in their hands. The preparations were simple. A short rope huug from the sign of the Humble house, and underneath it was ast-jre box. Upon this Brooks was hoisted. ' Shall he die?'* said the man who held the rope. These were the first words spokeu. "Let him die!" answered a hundred voices in a terrible bass. And a thrill of horrid interest ran through them as they waited for the fioal moment. Bur a third figure was upon the box. It was that of John Long. He took the noose from oft Brook's neck and placed it about his own. He said uot a word but stood with folded arms and head thrown back. And one of them told me that, standing so in the moonlight, something of his old boyish beauty came into his face and made him look like the noble man he might have made. ' Arc you guilty instead of Brooks?" they shouted. "Brooks is innocent," said Long. "Did you kill Harris?" "Brooks is innocent." "Never mind him," thev shouted then. "Up with Brooks! String him up!" "Gentlemen," said John Long, "I am guilty, and not Brooks. I meant the poison for Lucy, and her father got it." God forgive him the lie! In the instant that followed perhaps he wondered 1 if the truth would ever be known, and whether Lucy's childreu would ever play above his grave, and whether she would teach them the meaning of the words: "Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay flown his life for his friend. Perhaps,dying so in dishonor and shame, the merciful Father permitted him to know that it would be so. Perhaps he never heard the yell with which they pushed the box out from under him. They stood still then and let hirn hang. Presently one of them noticed that his hanu was quite cold. ****** It was a week after that night when Arthur Brooks had gone home in joy ta his bride and John Long had waited out in the night that they found the note William Harris had left, betraying the fact that a disordered brain had led him to suicide. Then they knew.?Atlanta Constitution. i. * REV. DR. TALMAGE. THE BROOKLYN' DIVINES SUNDAY SERMON. Subject: "The Hanging ot Ilaman." TexT: "So they hanged Hainan on the. gallows that he had prepared for Mordecai."?Esther vii.. 10. Hero is an Oriental courtier, about the most offensive man in Hebrew history, Haman by name. He plotted, for the destruction of the Israelitish nation, and I wonder not that in some of the Hebrew synagogues to this day, when Hainan's name is mentioned, the congregation clinch their fists, and stamp their feet and cry: "Let his name be blotted out!" Haman was prime minister in the magnificent court of Persia. Thoroughly appreciative of the honor conferred, he expects everybody that he passes to be obsequious. Coming in one day at the "gate of the palace the cAH?*nnfj *-KA!? it-* nF lu'^ I office; but a Hebrew, named Mordeeai, gazes upon tbe passing dignitary without bending bis head or taking off his hat. He was a good mat), and would not have been negligent of the ordinary courtesies of life, but he felt no respect either for Hatnan or the nation from which he bad come. But he could not be hypocritical, and while others made oriental salaam, getting clear down before this prime minister when he passed, Mordeeai, the Hebrew, relaxed not a muscle of his neck, and kept his chin clear up. Because of that affront Haman gets a decras from Ahasuerus, the dastardly King, for the massacre of al the Israelites, and that, of course, will include Mordeeai. To make a long story short, through Queen Esther this whole plot was revealed to her husband, Ahasuerus. One night Ahasuerus, who was afflicted with insomnia, in his sleepless hours calls for his secretary to read to him a few passages of Persian history, and so while away the night. In the book read that night to the King an account was given of a conspiracy, from which Mordeeai, the Hebrew, had saved the King's life, and for which kindness Mordeeai had never received tny reward. Haman, who had been fixing up a nice gallows to hang Monlecai on. was walking outside the door of the Kind's sleeping apartment and was called in. The King told him that he had just had read to him the account of some one w ho had saved his, the King's life, and he asked what reward ought '</> be given to such a one. Self-conceit:^ xiatnau, supposing that he himself was to get the honor, and not imagining for a moment that the deliverer of the King's life was Mordecai, says: "Why. your majesty ought to make a "triumph "for him, and put a crown on hiin, and set him on a splendid horse, high stepping and full blooded, and then have oue of your princes lead tho horse through the streets, crying: 'Bow the knee, here comes a man who has saved the King's life.'" Then said Ahasuerus in severe tones to Haman: "I know all about your scoundrelism. Now you go out and make a triumph for Morde.-tu, tue Hebrew, whom you hate. Put the best saddle on the finest horse, and you, the prince, hold the stirrup while nioraecai gets on, and then lead his horse through the street. Make haste !" "What a spectacle! A comedy and tragedy at one and the same time. There they go! Mordecai, who had been despised, now starred and robed, in the stirrups, Hainau, the chancellor, afoot, holding the prancing, rearing, champing stallion. Mordecai bends his neck at last, but it is to look down at the degraded prime minister walking beneath him. Huzza for Mordecai! Alas for Haman! But what a pity to have the gallows recently built entirely wasted! It is fifty cubics hizb, and built with care. And Haman had erected it for Mordecai, by whose stirrups h? now walks as groom. Stranger and more startling than any romance, there go up the steps of the scaffolding, side by side, tns hangman and Haman ta? ex-chancj!lor. "So they hanged Haman on the gallows that he had prepared for Mordecai." Although so many years have pass?! since cowardly Ahasuerus reignei, and tha beautiful Esther answerad to his whims, and Persia perished, yet from the life and death of Haman we may draw living lessons of warning and instruction. And, first, we come to the practical suggastion that, when the heart is wrong, things very insignificant will destroy our comfort. Who would have thought that a great orime minister, admired and applauded by millions of Persians, would have been so nettled and harassed by anything trivial? What more could the great dignitary havo wanted than his chariots and attendants, and palaces aud banquets? If atflucnce of circumstances can make a man contented and happy, surely Haman should have been contented and happy. No; Mordecai's refusal of a bow takes the glitter from the gold, and the richness from thn purple, and the speed from the chariots. TV ith a heart puffed up with every inflation of vanity and revenge,"it was impossible for him to bj happy. The silence of Mordecai at the gats was louder than the braying of trumpets in the palace. Thus shall it always be if the heart is not right. Circumstances the most trivial will disturb the spirit. It is not the great calamities of life that create the most worriment. I have seen men, felled by repeated b'owsof misfortune, arising from the dust, never desponding. cut the most of the disquiet which men suffer is from insignificant causes, as a lion attacked ny some i>east ot prey rums casny arouna and slays him, yet runs roaringly through j the forest at the alighting on nis brawny neck of a few insects. You meet some great | loss in business with comparative composure, but you can think of petty trickeries inflicted upon you which rouse all your capacity for wrath, and remain in you;- heart an unbearable annoyance. If you look back upon your life you will find that most of the venations and disturbances of spirit which you felt wjre product by circumstances that wera njt worthy of notic\ If you want to be happy you must not care for trides. Do not be too minute in your inspection of th? treitmant you receive from others. Who cards whethe." Mordecai bows when you pass, or stands erect and stiff as a ce iar!' T.iat woodman would not make much clearing in t'as forest who should stop to bin'! up every little bruise and scratch he receive! in the thicket: nor will that man accomplish much for the world or the church who is too watchful aud apprec'ative of petty annovauce?. There are mulj? :>~ ?.u~ ??ia t,?,. tituura vi j/ou^ic ui 1110 ?>ui IU LU.pwihhj nai* rorred because they pass their Jives, not iu searchiug out thosa taings which are attractive and deserving, but inspyiugout with all their powers of vision to see whether they cannot find a Mordecai. Again: I learn from tha life of the man under oar notice that worldly vanity and sin are very an^scqc to hav-> piety bow before them. Haman w&? a fair emblem of entire worldliness, and Mordecai, the representative of unflinching godliness. Such were the usages of society in ancient tim?s that, had this Israelite bowed to the prime minister it would have been an acknowledgment of respect for his character aud nation. Mordecai would, therefore, have sinned against his religion had ho made any obeisance or dropped his chin half an inca before Haman. When, therefore proud Haman atttempted to compel an hom age which was uot felt, he onlv did what the world ever silica has tried to do, whsn it would force our holy religion in any way to yield to its dictates. Daaiel.if ho had been a uiau of religious compromises, would never have baen thrown into the den ot lions. He might have made soma arrangement with King Darius whereby ho could have retained part of his form of religion without making himself so completely obnoxious to the idolaters. Paul might have retained the favor of his rulers and escaped martyrdom it he hai only been williDg to mix up his Christian faith with a few errors. His unbending Christian character was taken as an insuit. Fagot and rack and halter, in all aq;es have been only the different ways in which the world has demanded obeisance. It was once, away up on the top of the temple, that Satan commanded the B\>ly One of Nazareth * - * * 1 -? l- ? !>.?* ? fr. In ?nur cr\ 10 Kneei ueiurn uuu. uui. iu m uu.. much on the top of churches as down in the aisle and the pew and the pulpit that Satan tempts the espousers of the Christian faith to kneel before him. Why was it that the Platonic philosophers of early times, as well as Toland, Spinoza and Bolingbroke of latter days, were so madly opposed to Christianity? Certainly not because it favored immoralities, or arrested civilization, or dwarfed the intellect. The genuine reason, whether admitted or not, was because the religion of Christ paid no respect to their intellectual vanities. Blount and Boyle and the host of infidels hatched out by the vile reign of Charles II., as reptiles crawl out of a marsh of slime, could not ke*p their i patience because, as they passed along, there j were sitting in the gate'o. the church such j - - " } . . v . . I men as Matthew and Mark, and Luke, and John, who would not bead an inch in respoel to their philosophies. Satan told our first parents that tbey would become as gods "if they would only reach up and take a taste of the fruit. They tried it and failed, but their descendants ar<> not yet satisfied with the experiment. We*have n^w many desiring to be as gods, reaching up after yet another apple. Human reason, seomfulaof God's word, may foam ani strut wit a the proud wratb of a Haraan, and attempt to compel the homage of the goo 1. but in the presence of men and anjels it shall bs confounded. "Sod shall smite thee, thou waited wall." When science began to make its brilliant discoveries there were great facts brought to light that seemed to overthrow the trutli of the Bibb. The archaeelogist with his crowbar, ani the geologist with his hammer, and the chemist with his batteries c'aarged upon the Bible. Moses's account of the creation seemed denied by tha very structure of the earth. The astronomer wheeled round his telescope until the heavenly bo lies seemed to irurshal the nselves Q-^cliIlSt t?ll9 DIOl?, as bllSSUlO III biicu wuio?p foujht against Sisera. Observatories and universities rejoiced at what they considered the extinction of Christianity. They gathered new courage at what they considered past victory, and pressed on their conquest into the kingdom of nature, until, alas, for them! they discovered too much. God's word had only been lying in ambush that, in some unguarded moment, with a sudden bound, it might tear infidelity to pieces. It was when Joshua attacked the city o! Ai. He selected thirty thousand men, and concealed most of the n; then with a few men he assailed the city, which poured out its numbers and strength upon Joshua's little band. According to previous plan they fell back in see nin? defeat, bat, after all the proud inhabitants of the city had been brought out of their homes, and had joined in the pursuit of Joshua, suldenly that brave man halted in his lligat, and with his spear pointing toward the city, thirty thousand men bounded from the thickets as pauthers spring to their prey, and tae pursuers were dashed to pieces, while the hosts of Joshua pressed up to the city, and with their lighted torches tossed it into flame. Thus it was that thj discoveries of science seemed to give temporary victory against God and tho Bible, and for a while the church acted as if she were on a retreat; Vmf! nil t'no mnosars of God and truth had joined in the pursuit, and were sura of the field, Christ gave the signal to Hi; church, and, turning, they drove back taeir foes in sham3. There was found to b3 no antagouism between nature and revelation. The universe and the Bible were found to be the work oi'the sania hand, two strokes of the same pea, their authorship the sam> God. Agiin: L^ara the lesson that pride g033 before a fall. Was any man ever so fat- up as Hainan, who tunable I so far down? Yes, oa a s.nailer scale every day tin world S33S tlrj same thing. Ajainst t'aeir very advaatages man trip into destruction. TPfien God humbles proud man, it is usually at tin moment of thair greatest arrogancy. If there be a man in your community greatly puTerl up with worldly success, you have but to* stanl a little while and you w-ill see hina coon down. You say, I wonder that Goi allows that man to on riiinj over others' heals and making great assumptions of power1. There is no won ler about it. Hamau has not yet got to the top. Pride is a com mauder, well plum? i am capmsonaa, due it lea ls forth a dark an I frowning host. IVe have the best of authority for saying that "?rid3 gosta bafora destruction, and a haughty spirit bafora a fall." Tne arrows from the Almighty's quiver are apt to strike a man when on tli9 wing. Goliath shakes his great spear in defiance, but the small stones from the brook Elah malce him stagCer and fall like an o.t under the butcher's bludgeon. Ha who is down cannot fall. Vessels scudding un ler bare poles do not fee! the force of the storm, but those with all sails set capsiza at the sudden descent o? th; tempest. Again: This oriental tale reminds us ol the fact that wrongs we prepare for others return upon ourselves. The gallows that Haman b'ailt for,Mordecai became the prims minister's, strangulation. Robespierre, who sent so many to guillotine, hal his own head chopped off by that horrid instrument. The evil you practice on others will recoil upon your own pate. Slanders como home. Op pressions come home. Cruelties come home. You will yet be a lackey walking beside th; very charger on which you expected to ride others down. Whea Charles I., who ha*J destroyed Strafford, was about to be boheaded, he said: "I basely ratified an unjust sentence, and the similar injustice I am now to undergo is a sensible retribution for tha j Duuishment I inflicted on an innocent man." Lord Jeffries, after incarcerating mauy innocent and gooi people in London tower, was himself imprisoned in the same place, where the shades of those whom h? had maltreated seemed to haunt him so that he kept crying to his attendants: "Keep them off, gentlemen! for God's sake, keep them off!'' The chickens had come home to roost. The body of Bradshau;, the English juJge, who had been ruthless anri cruel in his decisions, was taken from his splendid tomb i;i Westminster Abbey, an I at Tyburn hung on a gallows from morning until night in the presence of jeering multitudes. Hainan's gallows came a little late, but they came. Opportunities fly in a straight line, and jn?t touch us as they pass from eternity t > eternity, but the wrongs we do others fly in a eircl?, aud however the circle may widen out, they are sure to come back to tho point from which they started. There are guns that kit1!:! Furthermore, let the story of Hanian t2ach us how quickly turns tho whael of fortune. Ono day, excepting tha King, Hamaa was tin mightiest man ia Persia; but the next day, a lackey. Bo wa go up, and so we co.ua down. You seldom fin 1 any mau twenty years in the sama circumstance. Of those who in political life tireuly years a^o ware th? most proaiina^t, how few remain in conspicuity. Political parties make certain men do their hard work, and than, aftar using tham as hacks, turn ths.-n out on the commons to die. Every four years there is a complete revolution, and about five thousand men who ought certainly to bathe next President are sham a fully disappointed: while some, who this day are obscure and poverty-stricken, will ride upon the shoulders of the people, and taka *' ?*" o r?rl fKo cnrtil J /-?P IUCII tUI 11 CI U UUU11I AVIV/U UU">A WUU opt/it J vt> office. Oh, how quickly the wheel turn?! Ballot boxes are tire steps oa which rasa come down as of tea as they go up. Of thos3 who were long ago successful ia the accumulation of property, how few have not met with reverses! while many of those who than wera straightened ia circumstances now hold th9 bonds and the bank keys of the nation. Of all fickle things in the world, fortune is the most fickle. Every day she changes her mind, and woe to the man who puts any confidence in what she promises or proposes! She cheers when you go up, and she langhs when you comedown. Oh. trust not a moment your hBart's affections fo luis changeful world! Anchor your soul ia God. From Christ's compauioaship gather your satisfactioa. Then, come sorrow or gladness, success or defeat, ric ie3 or poverty, honor or disgrace, health or sickness, life or death, time or eternity, all are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's. Again, this Haman's history shows us that outward possessions and circumstances can* aotmakeaman happy. While yet fully vested in authority and the chief adviser of iim Porjion mnnni\-,'n and evervthinK that I equipage and pomp and splendor of residence could do were his, he is an object lesson of wretchsduess. There ara to-day mora aching sorrows under crowns of royalty than under the ragged caps of the houseless. Much of the world's affluence and gayety is only misery in colors. Many a woman seated in the street at her apple stand is happier than the great bankers. The mountains of worldly honor are covered with perpetual snow. Tamerlane comjucred half the world, but could not subdue his own fears. Ahab goes to bed, sick, because Naboth will not sell him his vineyard. Herod is in agonv because a little child is bocn down in Bethlehem. Great Felix trembles because a poor minister will preach righteousness, temperance and judgment to come. From the time of Louis XII to Louis XVIII was there a straw botto nod chair in Franco that did not set more solidly than the great 1-1 ? ?1 TTJr*<?o tv^IrtnaA 9 inrone on ivuitu ms i'icu^u Were I called to sketch misery in its worst form, I would not go up the dark alley of the poor, but up the highway over whica prancing Bucepbali strike the sparks with their hoofs and between the statuary and parks of stalking deer. Wretchedness is more bitter when swallowed from gemmed goblet than from earthern pitcher or pewter mug. If there are young paopb here who are looking for this position and that circumstance, thinking that worldly success will bring peace o * the soul, let them shatter the delusion. It is not what we gat, it is what wa ara. Uaniat among the lions is happier than Nebuchadnezzar on his throna. And when life is closing, brilliancy of worldly surroundings will ba no solace. Daatli is "blind, and saas no difference batwean the King and hi? clown, batween the Nazarina and the Athenian, between a bookless hut and a national library. The frivolities of life cannot, with their giddy lau^h, echoing from haart to heart, entirely drown tha voica of a tremendous conscience which says: '"I am immortal. The stars shall die, but I aui immortal. On? wave of etarnity shall drown tima in its depths, but I am immortal. Taa earth shall have a shroud of flatna an'I tha haavans flee at tha slanca of tha .Lord, but 1 am immortal. From all tha heights and dipt'is of my nature rings down, and rin^s up, and rings out the world 'immortal.'" A* good conscience, and assurance of life eternal through the Lord Je3us Christ ara tha only securities. The soul's happiness is too large a craft to sail up the stream of wordly pleasure. As ship carpenters say, it draws to i much water. This earth is a bubble, and it will burst. This life is a vision, and it will soon pass away. Tim el It is only a ripp'.e, and it breaketh against the throne of judgment. Our days! They fly swifter than a shuttle, weaving for us a robe of triumph or a garment of shame. Begin your life with religion and for it3 greatest trial you will be ready. Every day will be a triumph, and death will be cnly a King's servant calling you to a royal banquet. In olden time the man who was to receive the honors of knighthood was required to spend the previous night fully armed, and with shield and lane? to walk up and down among the tombs of the dead. Through all the hours of that night his steady step was heard, aud when morning dawned, amid grand parade and the sound of cornets, the honors of knighthood were bestowed. Thus it shall be with the good man's soul in th3 night before heaven. Fully armed with shield and sword and helmet, he shall watch and wait until the darkness fly and the morning break, an I amid the sound of celestial harpings the soul shall take the - C ? j.t t_1_ uuuurs ut neaveu amia tag innumerable throng with robes snowy white streaming over seas of sapphire. Mordecai will only have to wait for his day of triumph. It took all the preceding trials to make a proper background for his after succsss. The scaffold built for him makes all the mare imposing and picturesque the horse into whose long white mane he twisted his fingers at the mounting. You want at least two misfortunes, hard as flint, to strike fire. Heavy and long continued snows in the winter are signs of good crops next summer. So many nave yielded wonderful harvests of benevolence and energy because they were a long while snowed under. We must have a good many hard falls before we learn to walk straight. It is on the black anvil of trouble that men hammer oat their fortunes. Sorrows take up men on their' shoulders and enthrone them. Tonics are nearly always bitter. Men, like fruit trees, are barren, unless trimmed with sharp knives. They are like wheat?all the better for the flailing. It required the prison darkness and chul to make John Bunyau dream. It took Delaware ice and cold feet at Valley Forge, and the whizz of bullets, to make a Washington. Paul when he climbed up on the beach of -t-.* ? " m-cuiu, suivenng ju ms wee ciotnes, was more or a (juristtan tban when tue strip struck th9 breakers. Prescott, the historian, saw better without his eyes than he coulc^ ever have scan with th9m. Mordecai despise! at fc]ie gate, is only p;*e'i5C3353;* of ilgrdecai fvandty mounted." ~ ?' * Glowworms and" Fireflies. The seat of light in the glowworm is in the tail, and proceeds from three luminous sacs in the last segment of the abdomen. The male has only two of these, and the light proceeding from them is comparatively small. During favorable weather the light glows steadily, but at other times is not constant. The fireflies of the tropics vary to the extent that while certain species control their light, others arc without this power. The light of our English glowworm is undoubtedly under its control, as upon handling the insect it is immediately put out. It would seem to take some little muscular effort to producc the luminosity, as one was observed to move continually the last segment of the body as long as it continued to shine. Tiie larva ot tne glowworm is capable of emitting light, but not to be compared to that of the developed insect. Both in its mature and immature forms it plays a useful part in the economy of nature. To the agriculturist and fruit-grower it is a special friend. Its diet consists almost wholly of small-shelled snails, and it comc3 upon the scene just when these far? and garden pests arc most troublesome. British fireflies probably never yet figured as personal ornaments to female beauty. This is, and has always been, one of their uses to the dusky daughters of the tropics. They are often studded in the coiled and braided hair, and perform somewhat the same office as the diamond for more civilized belles. Spanish ladies and those of the West Indies inclose fiteflies in bags - - i ,r ?, ol lace or gauze, anu wear mem amiu their hair, or disposed about their persons. The luminosity of our modest English insect is far outshone by several of its congeners. Some of these are used in various ways for illumination, and it is said that the brilliancy of the light is such that the smallest print can be read by that proceeding from the thoracic spots alone when a single insect is moving along the lines. In the Spanish settlements fireflies are frequently used in a curious way when traveling at night. The natives tic an insect to each great toe, and on lishing and hunting expeditions make torches of them by fastening several together. The same people have a summer festival at which the garments of the vounc people are covered with fireflies, and being mounted on fine horses similarly ornamented, the latter gallop through the dusk, the whole producing the effect of a large moving light. ? Cornhill Magazine. An Expensire Sentiment. During one of the fairs in Paris some years ago Baron James de liothschild was a patron. Chancing to pass a .stand where some prettj young ladies were installed he asked, says the Loudon TidBils, in a bantering tone: "Well, my dears, what can I do for you?" "Ah, Baron," said one, "you can give us your autograph." "With pleasure," responded the gallant old Baron, "if you will preface it with an agreeable sentiment." So the young lady, without much ado, wrote on a dainty slip of paper, "I hereby give to charity tea thousand francs," and the Baron immediately signed his uame in full and smilingly paid the amount ($2000) to the eaterprising Parisian. Stopping- a Locomotive With a I'enny. The common copper ccnt,the insiguili- 1 cant tenth part of a dime, can render useless the vast propelling force of steam. Place a cent before one of the front ! wheels of an engine in such a manner that it rests firmly on the track and against the wheel. Then, though the engineer put on the greatest possible head of steam, his engine will not move. That little copper must first be taken away. This bit of knowledge will be of value to him who wishes to delay a train several minutes for a procrastinating companion. ? Albany (N. Y.) Journal. British emigration to the United States has decreased 8000 since January 1, compa red with last year. I RELIGIOUSJEADING. NOTUING TO SUOW. "My day ba.s all gone''?'twas a woman who spoke, As she turned her face to the sunset glow? "And I have been busy the whole day long; Yet for my work "there is nothing to show." No painting nor sculpture her hand had wrought; No laurel fame her labor bad won. AVliat was she doing in sill the long day. With nothiug to show at set of the sun? What was she doing? Listen; I'll tell you What she was doing in all the long day; Beautiful deeds too many to number; Beautiful deeds in a beautiful way,? Womanly deeds that a woman may do, Trifles "that only a woman can see, Wielding a power unmeasured, unknown. Wherever the light of her presence might be. She had rejoiced with those who rejoiced, Wept with the sad, and strengthened the weak; And a poor wanderer, straying in sin, She in compassion bad gone forth to seek. Unto the poor her aid had been given, Unto the weary the rest of her home; Freely her blessings to others were given, Freely and kinuly to all who had come. Humbly and quietly all the long day Had her sweet service for others been done; Yet for the labor of heart and of hand What could she show at set of the sun? Ah, she forgot that our Father in heaven Ever is watching the work that we do, And records He keeps of al 1 we forget! Then judges our work with judgment that's true. For an angel writes down in a volume of gold The beautiful deeds that all do below. Though nothing she had at the set of the sun, The angel above had something to show. ?fllary II. Rowland, in Herald of Peace. LOOK OUT FOU SELFISHNESS. A man's besetting sin is the one that jumps with bis inclinations. Does he love mirthfulness? Then he must be careful lest he run into excessive levitv and play the harlequin. He will be tempted to make jests of sacred things. A minister ought not to be a monk; but neither should be be asocial comedian. Does a man love ea3P? Then he always interprets those providences in bis own favor which allow him to shirk hard work and swing in bis hammock. Does ho love flattery and eclat? Then he it tempted to seek applauic, and to imagine that be is serving God when he is only burning incense on the altar of self-worship. The worst enemy is the one which wears an honest disguise. Look out for selfishness. It is the "old Adam" lurking behind every hedge. It will always keep pace with you if you give it the upper band. Keep no league with it. for unrist win never auiae iu me same ueari with the subtle and greedy tyrant. A Christian is never safe, never strong, never true to Christ, unless he is constantly "collaring" every sinful and sellish passion, and forcing it into unconditional surrender.?[Dr. T. L. Cuyler. "false religions." Dr. Joseph Parker of London, in a recent sermon on "False Religions," make* these plain and sensible remarks: "Let us take care how we put up theory against reality, invention against Scripture, and suggestion against revelation. I want to live within the four comers of God's Word. 1 would live so intimately with my Father that I can my very self, without priest, without minister, or teacher even, if I cannot avail my.-elf cf their services, find out what he mean* me to be and to do; I would be as a little child that could take my book and say, Father, I canuot read this, but in thy light and under the power of thy Spirit, now let us read it together. And of that perusal I would come richly laden with spiritual influence and spiritual blessing; yea, grammar itself should not keep me back Iroin seizing by cortain powers of the soul the inmost thought and sublimest purpose of God. Kensember there always comes a testing time. Wc shnll one day know which are true and which are false conceptions ami views. We cannot always live in tliu region of conjecture. The true religion is not one guess superior to another guess, one conjecture overflowing and exceeding another. There must somewhere be the true religion, the real thought of God. WIHTF.R TITAN SNOW. People who are in perpetual trouble over lives that reproach their profession, over stains and falls that mar their influence, should, ou their knees before God, try to get a clear understanding of the teaching of Holy Writ as to the extent of God's willingness to cleause the soul. Seek the aid of the Holv Spirit to so illtiminntt> ami onpn the Worvl to vour heart ami understanding that yoti may know how far you arc to look for victory and cleansing in your light with your sinful heart. We would suggest taking this passage, "This is the wilj of God, even your sa net ideationor, "Tfie blood of Jesus Chr.'st, His Son, c!eanseth us from all sin," along with its co-ordinate verse, "Chosen to salvation through sanctifieation of the Spirit and belief of the truth.'' Laying aside, so far as possible, old opinions, prejudices, and judgments, spread these passages humbly, reverently, before God, letting Him see in your heart a readiness to accept the light and follow it. Keep them there, and yourself there, until there opens to your soul an apprehen ion of their adaptation to your need. We shall not be surprised if the result is sucb a view of the completeness of the provision for your sin in the plan of salvation, such a revelation of Jesus as rnigbly to save, and of his Spirit In His sanctifying office?v?rir oa will lond vnu into anew experience of victory over our enemies, of c'eansing from impurity of heart.?[The Coutributor. "a time to dance." The following sermon from the Golden Rule Las much pith in it. We commend it to those who forget that the Bible nowhere mentions the dancing of the sexes together except in the lewd dnncing of the beathen nations: Text,?"A time to dance." Beloved Brethren: You who "trip it on tbe light, fantastic toe" have found a great deal or comfort in one text in the Bible, and we would not rob you of your favorite pasa.it iomnrotn vnn than the beatitudes of the twenty-third Pslam. It is more precious than the charity chapter in First Co:intbians, for does not the wise mau uphold your pet amusement, dancing? To be sure, ihe learned Yipsius, in his commentary, has suggested that the time to dance is when a man drops a heavy flat-iron cn his toe, but we put no confidence in any such frivolous exegesis. We have discovered the true meaning of the Preacher, after long study and research. There is a time to dance, to be sure, and tbat is when it has been demonstrated that it enlarges the spirituality and religious zeal of those who engage in this pastime; when , it has been shown tbat it increases the fervor of vouDgdisciplesiusoul-winning; when . it has been proved tbat all the dangers to j morals so often spoken of are but the evil . forebodings of over-scrupulous prudes: when . it has been made clear tbat serious itr.pr.-s- J sions and the desire for a higher and better ( life are fostered, rather than hindered, by , this amusement; when the consensus of j opinion of the most devout and common- \ sensible Christians favors the practice; when i no weak brother will be earned to stumble; , when we are all shut up to just this one j method of recreation. Certainly there is a time to dance, and that is just the time. The mathematical liend has recently been at work upon a calculation ol tne ' work performed by the humau heart. ^ His calculations are curious and give s the work of the heart in miles and ' beats. It is based upon the presump- ( tioa that the heart beats GO times each , minute and throws blood nine feet. Computed thus, the mileage of the blood through the body might be taken ? as 207 yards per miuute, 7 miles per ? hour, 1(J8 mile3 per day, 61,320 miles [ per year, or 4,292,400 miles a lifetime ] of seventy years, j SABBATH SCHOOL. I INTERNATIONAL LiESSON FOR JUNE IS. j| <// H I^ssonTeit: "The Rich Man's Folly," J Luke xii., 13-21?Golden Text:~_^M Luke xii., IS?Commentary. 13. ' And one of the company said unto M Him." In tli** first, verse of this chapter we 10 are told that this company consisted of au H innumerable multitude, such a throng that H they trode one upon another. The following H verses down to this first one of our lesson H tell us that in the midst of this multitude He H 'aught His disciples that they should beware H of the leaven (the hypocrisy) of the Pharisees; H that they should not fear the death of the H body, but rather fear the death of soul and H body iu hell (compare Matt, x., 28); that they should not fear to deny Him before men, but rather fearlessly confess Him, looking to the future, and that tbev should not be anxious as to what they should say wh?n arrested and brought before the authorities for His sake, for the Holy Spirit would teach them to Ray the right words at the right time. In order to see why He thus teaches His disciples, let the whole of the previous chapter alter our last lesson be carefully re id, and learn from it the attitude of the religious rulers of the nation toward Him, and remember that He knew that as they treated Him so they would ' in due time treat His followers. "Master, speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me." What an unseemly interruption! Jesus had been speaking of judgment and eternity, of future glory and future torment (xi.. 20, 31, 32; * xii., 5, 8, !?); but hero is a man who u mora % interested in a share of some property in this world than in any future good or evil. 14. "AudHesaid unto him, Man. who made me a judge or a divider over you The man did not know the Teacher whom he had thus addressed. The one seeking a share of an earthly inheritance was a man entirely of this world, while the one whom he asked to interfere on his behalf was a man not of this world. 15. "And He said unto them. Take heed, : and beware of covetousness." The tenth commandment forbids coveting. Moses was * to choose rulers who were God-fearing men, I men of truth, hating covetousness. Ex. xxjai IT; xviii., 21. The word has several meaBfl ings, such as a wish to have more, love^f^^B money, dishonest gain; the first is the meal^^H iug of the word here, and in Mark viL, 30-28, 1 it is classed by the Sav.our with all manner of evil which proceeds from within and dafiles u?. Allcausee that dishonest gain is sinfu1, but some may question the sinfulness of a wish to have more either of money or V possession?. If the distinction is made between a determination to possess by all means, lawful or otherwise, for our own gratification: and the desire to possess only in a lawful manner, and that therewith we may glorify God; the matter will be plain. The former is sinful, the latter is not. '"A man's life consisteth not in the abund-'-ance of the things which he possesseth." Considering the mere earthly life in this present evil world, it is clearly manifest that th<? happiest man is not always, nor even often, the one who has the most of this world's goods; but rather the one who has simply enough, even though he work hard for it, and nas health to enjoy it. But in our next . lesson, which is really a part of this one, we shall learu that "The life is mora than meat" lft. "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully." Jesus now speaks a parable to make more clear to those who have ears to hear the truth He has presented. TTui'd ic or* " w au uvuuuauu U(U T C3U 11 VUA UU7 ground of one who knew God. He is already rich and his riches are increased. God's rain HI and sunshine have done it, and jet k would Hfl seem as if the man was no child of God. It was this sort of thing that puzzled Asaph. I He saw ths ungodly prospering,increasing in riches, their eyes standing out with fatness, HH having more than heart could wish, not in WM trouble nor plagtied like other men, and yet blaspheming God ,'Ps. lxxiii.); but as he waited upon God he saw the reason of it and was led to rejoice more than ever in God Himself. Prosperity in the things of this H world is no token of the favor of God. HI 17. "What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits?" Thus I this rich man thought within himself. His AH increase was an anxiety to him, he looked I upon them as his fruits, evidently not thio^^H^ ing of the God who gave them to him, noqflH that the goodness or God was intended to^^H lead him to repentance (Rom. ii., 4). jHB 18. ' And he said. This will I do: I wilt pull down my barns, and build greater: and there will 1 "bestow all my fruits and my goods." He had talked with himself about it, an:l this was the decision of the most im- I portaut person in the world, the only one IH who knew anything, the only one to be pleased, the^only one worth living for, he Himself. So the old barns came down, the large new ones go up, and there all my fruits and my goods are carefully bestowed for the personal comfort or I myself. IMj 19. "And 1 will say to my soul, Sou], thou hast much goods laid up for many years: take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry." The soul to which he talked links him with IH the brute creation, for if they could not B9R build barns, they could do any of these four things which he tells his soul to do, just as HQ well as himself: so that he talks simply as an ^9 ox or hog might talk (if they had the power of speech) which were being unconsciously fattened for the slaughter. What a contrast Hb to Him who "though He was rich, yet for our sakas became poor, that we through His poverty might be' rich." What a contrast KB m saying of this mau tohimsslf, and the say- Bm iug of Christ to His disciples, "Whosoever HH he be of you that forsaketh not all that he KB hath, he cani:ot be my disciple" (Luke xiv., bH 33). What a contrast between this man who lived only for himself, and Paul who counted all things as dross when compared with Christ and His Glorr (Phil, iii., 8). Bfl 20. "But God said unto him: Thou fool I this night, thy sou I shall be required of thee?" HH How often thus suddenly aoes the summons come, and from tha midst of earth's abundance the thoughtless one is cut off. not hav ing been led to repentance by the goodness and forbearance and long suffering of God, ^^9 and tbey go out to find that while tney faivs ^Hj been laying up treasures on earth for thwr own enjoyment, they have also unconscioUslj I been treasuring up unto themselves wrath against the day of" wrath, and revelationV of the righteous judgment of God (Rom. iiI4, ^H| "Then whose shall those things be, whicl^^^| thou hast provided?" He heapeth up riches BB and knowethnot who shall gather them." ''When he diethhe shall carry nothingaway; his glory shall not descend after him. "He ^HR that getteth riches, and not by right, shall HC leave them in the midst of his days, and at I his end shall be a tool" (Ps. xxxvii., 9; xlix., 17; Jer. xvii, 11). Whoever might edjoythe fruits and goods of the man who looked forward to such a good time with himself, the HH foolish rich man has lost it all, and others now ^B| enjoy them without his having a say in it. He would surely have been a happier mau, HH even for this life, if he had shared his abundance with others and caused mauy a widow's heart to sing for joy: and how many would have blessed him, had he only been williug to do good with his riches. ^H| 21. "So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." Shall Hj my life be for myself or for God; shall I live fo~ this world or the world to come; shall I be wise for time and eternity or a fool for both? If eternal life is my decision, then I ^H| accept Jesus, who iaid, "I am the Life," and life 1 have in Hiro. I have also in Him riches HHH and honor, durable riches and righteousness; fruit better than gold, and a revenue better than choice silver (Pr. viii., 18, 19). If my >oul is at any time suddenly required of me 1 o>n tn &rt iriJT mxr nVhac mr?r#? fuller frtl* Hfi whft calis me is Himself my inheritance. If He shall come my joy will be full, for I shall be HH like Him (Phil. i.. 21; I. John iii.. 2). If on^^H the other hand I should turn my back upon^^H liod and give my time and strength to laying up treasure for myself. I should be as the^^H fool of our lesson and have an eternity of vaiu repentance. ? Lesson Helper. ^^8 Thk St. Louis father is a tkriftyHH oul. One of them is suing a young^H ady to recover the presents which his^^H on gave her while they ware engaged, [lie engagement having been broken^^^ iff. 1 lie girl's father should retaliat^^H vith a suit for the cost of oil. gas an^^H Mrs. Ann Hyde is the oldest pen-^^| ioner in the United States. She is the^^| ridow of a veteran of the war of 1812.^^B Recently she celebrated her one-hun-^^B [red-and-first birth day. She makes^^R to attempt to conceal her afljo,