The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, March 08, 1889, Image 1
gtpotrii to jlflricnltnrf, gortiniltnrr, gomratit <?> ttrg?nr?tJkM af tfrf ftp.
atT o ( , H? SQU^^VKOLmA^^ROH 8^ 1889.
aOMMODT. in
' V ' ' "* BT TtEABl. EVTINC1H.
Somebody thinks the world all wrong ^
And Defer has a word in its praise: ft
_ 6omel>ody sings tho whole day long, tie
titkos the world and nil its ways.
Somebody says it's a queerold place,
Whoro none of tho people do as tlioy should;
Bomebody thinks it full of grace ho
And wouldn't change the folks if ho could. cn
Boinobo 1 v onlls it cruel and cold,
Full of sin and sorrow and pain.
Whoro life is but a search for gold, lof
And sonls are lost in sottish gain. (;(
Somebody inorr.ly laughs, and crios :
"Hurrah for such a dear old earth!
Success shall cronn tho man thnt trios nn
To make his markhy houost worth."
Somebody groans and shakos his head, .
Calls his lot a \s retched one ;
Bomebody wishos that, he worn doad, in
For somebody olsu lias all the fsn. lei
But sotnoho.v I notli o you generally find.
In good or evil, pain or caro, .
To ono thing suro, you may niako up your Bh<
mind: . fac
Souiobody always gets his share. jyjj
BjTftD I ITTi r rim v s
I UUII LI I ILL LIVIILIi
]
llO:
The History of a Prudent uk
Marriage. am
BY MISS RIUJLOCK. ... eb'
U :
"> VOil!
CHAPTER I--Continued. \ Kj>,
"Well, Iho rest of the story lios in a n. ^ J rj>a\
shell; for I have never pot to tho bottom o. # ^
I the matter jet, and 1 never shall now.'
Jolm and Emily parted iu the old father's ma]
presence; lie insisted upon that, aud in my iUg
presence, too, for Euiily boomed I would ngj
stay. And at tho last, oh! how sho clung ttU
round tho young man's nock, and promised nei|
him faithfully that sho would marry him, gen
and no one but him. And he promised her to c
as solemnly, and John Steuhouso is a man ftm
who nevor breaks his word, that if he wero auc
alive on the day she came of age, ho would is
claim her again, and marry her hu spite of rjgi
man or devil.' He said that, those very will
words, for ho seemed half maddened by the 8uu
ciuelty shown to her, tho tender, delicate car,
girl, made to be l oo 1 and taken caro of. thai
Aud then ho kissed iier?o~, uowhe kissed hin
her! It makes mo cry to think of it." or
"Poor fellow! Put, for all that, it would i
have bo. n a very imprudent niariiago," wis
I said Mrs. Smiles, colilly. his
"Imprudent or uot. it never came about, is i
you seo, though what happened I have wlu
never found out. Most certainly, John hall
Btenhouso formed no other attachment. I ?16
lie worked hard in the ollice, and out of fjoii
oflico hours led a most solitary life. He j ihui
^ did not even ask about Emily Kendal; j eve
! though sometimes when, intentionally, i you
1 used to mention licr, ho lis'.onod | den
\ 1 * as if ho was drinking iu every word. ! foil
And I took care that during the jgu<
two years he should hear about her all I ! poe
hoard myself. This was uot a great deal, ' wor
for her father kept her separated from mo i mei
os much as ho could, wliich was human j iov<
nature, 1 suppose. But 1 had news of her \ fan]
sometimes, and always told them to John, j tuu
The only thing I did not tell him was a po< i
rumor that reached me, ?o4 ridiculous it i ma:
seemed then, that my husband and 1 only wor
laughed at it, of her intended marriage to j y
JollILEoW?*b?? Jt." Vat
"I remember it was I who told you, and ' botl
how iudiguaut you looked. But you seo T ; ly
was light after all," said Mrs. Smiles, not I this
ariiL-mt a little air of self "satisfaction. I un<
"Well, no matter now. John never hog
named Emily's name, nor do 1 know if ho ste;i
ever heard tiie report or nol; but certainly | tho
just about that time he went up to London. | his
Whether it was to claim Emily, whether still
ho asked her again and sli3 refused him, or rep
whether ho heard tho u nort her mwl
Jolm Bowerbank, nml never did come for- j ]]
ward and nsk her, goodners only knows! ing
All I know is that, within two months of stui
Emily's coming of age, without my ever j rou
Joeing him?lor I was laid down with that j not
had fever, you know, and Edward was too j inti
miserable about me to care much for any- ! had
body outside?John Stenliouse had quit- fow
ted Liverpool and sailed for India. And i ?v
there he jh now, lor aught 1 know. Ho does gra
not forget us, poor fellow; ho writes to us win
at Christmas always, and last yoar he sent chii
an Indian shawl to reach 1110 on my birth- on
day. But ho never names Emily, and ho j tho
nover gave tho slightest explanation about Bo1
anything." "wl
"Perhaps," suggested Mrs. Smiles, wit
"there was nothing to explain. Tho young ago
lady had olinngod her miud, that was all. j
And no wonder. A marriage with the head : t^it
of tho firm instead of ono of tho junior I ^j10
clerks is so vory much more suitable. But j nru
look! is not that tho carriapo driving up? i nm
Mr. Bowerbank's, I presume. Oh, dear! if j ^e(,
? I could but see one of my daughters driving Koj,
| away in her own carriage!" !
Mrs. Enowlo did not answer. Sho stood ^ei
half hidden boUind tho groups of idle i pOC
gazers which always gather to staro at o nm
bride. There was a mingled expression in am
her frank, rosy face?half pity, half ten- j pie
deruess, yet Hitting over and nuou across it j cju
a shadow of something else?a something |
not unlike couteunit. Course-looking, un- oni
cultured womnn as sho was. sho possessed i 'pjj
that which makes at oueo woman's utmost j Up
softness and utmost strength?a loving
heart and a clour conviction-though sho Wll,
was not clever enough to put it into j
thoughts, still les ; into words- of tho di " ! llfil
vinonesB of Lovo. Love, which, when mat- j jjm
ual, gives and exacts nothing less than the 1 lua
entire soul of man and woman, and cu- ! j[e
forces as an nl< oluto duty the truth of j we]
which marriage is hut the outward sign, | "jf
seal, and ratiticatiou ?" What God lratb sie,
joined together let not man put asunder " ( ^ai
"I wonder wliat made her marry liimV' i wo
murmured tho good matron of thirty years' l aR(
standing. "My patience! if i had given up | ^,rc
Edward Knowle what would he have thought | (}c
of me? What will John Stouhouse think j
of her?" Kn
"Nothing at nil, probably. He may bo an(
married by this time himself." Ma]
"I don't believe it?I'll never boliovo it. wh
Men may bo bad enough, but they'ie not so Bju
bad as women. They'll not often sell .)0]
themselves, soul and body, out of mere U1^
^ cowardice, or broak a solemn plighted ht)1
M promise from sheer ir." al,l
W "Hut her father . was bound to obey jor
her father." to ]
"No, sho wasn't," replied Mr. Knowle, j,ft
sternly ami etrongly. "My dear, you're j,rt
not bound to obey any man living, not nu(
even your own husband, who is a mighty jca
deal closer to you than your father, when n,e
he tells you to do a wrong tiling. If Ihl- j pt.|
ward Knowle saul to me, 'Emma, I 111 | tl.i
hungry, and I want yon to chop yourself |,P1
up into mincemeat for mo,' well, j crimps yQl
I might do it, if ho really wanted it and it
harmed no one hut imsclf. hut if he snul, ||1(3
'Emma, I'm huugrv, nnd 1 want you to tu> hlv
nuTT steal that leg of mutton, 1 should say, hai
'No, sir. (Sod's law is a higher law than to
obedience to you. Steal your leg of mat- flel
ton for yo. tHelf.' l?ut atop they'vo lib
opened the hull door she's coming." dill
She came, the littlo pale bride. Not I
even the excitement of the bridal gayeties, ria
the breakfast, tho champagne, and tlio 15o
speeches, could iuako her anything but hoi
pale. She leant on t bo arm of her father, loo
who was an extremely handsome, gentle- hei
. manly, well-dressed nml low-voiced p>r- mo
nonage. He put her into tho carriage with ntr
the utmost paternal euro, with a kiss and a onl
benediction, both of which she received krl
passively. Sho seemed altogether a pas- a 1
sive, frnil, gentlo creature, such a one as a 1
brave, strong man would take and shelter an:
Lis arms, and lore all the dearer for her
ry helplessnee. And John Bowerbank,
ongh elderly, almost old, did not look
:e a weak man, or an nntender man.
ir stronger, far tenderer?the two qnaliis
usually go together?than the bride's
ndsorne aud elegant father.
"l'oor thing!" muttered Mrs. Knowle to
reclf. "Well, in one sense, it's an espe.
He's an honeBt man, John Bowernk.
l'erh&ps she mav be happy?at
ist, less unhappy than she looks now.
)d bless her!"
And with that cordial blessing, unheard,
d a few kindly tears, unseen by her for
10m they were shed, for in truth the
ido did not seem muoh to hear and see
ything, the carriage drove away. Thus
'minuted the principal scene, and thus
aished the principal actors in that grand
jw wedding, which had been quite satis*
lory and successful in all its elements,
th tlie oxception of one trilling omission.
I unfrequeutly occurring in similar ceroinies?Love.
CHAPTER IL
Before telling- the simple, sad story?il
.>s not pretend to be anything but a sad
ry?of John Bowerbank's wife, I should
0 to 6ay n word for John Bowerbank.
I'ho most obvious description of him
1 almost universal critioism upon
c, was the common phrase, "He was
thorough man of business;" a
iracter which, out of business circles,
is a little the fashion to decry, or, at
st, to mention with a condescending
ilogy. Hard to say why, since any acute
souer may perceive that it takes some of
kvery finest qualites of real manhood t?
a " thorough man of business." A
u exact, persovering, shrewd, enterprise
, with a strong perception of his own
its, and an equally fair judgment, and
honest admission of the rights of his
Rhbor; who, from conscience, oommon
so, and prudence, takes care ever to do
ithers as ha would bo done by; whQ has
moss enough to strike the clear bal0
between justice and generosity; who
honest before he is benevolent, and
iteous before he is compassionate; who
1 defraud no nian, nor, if ho can help it,
er any man to defraud him; jvho is
jful in order to be liberal, and accurate
t ho may compel accuracy in those about
; who, though annoyed by the waste
misappropriation of a pound, would
griuigo thousands spent in a lawful,
e. and credltablo way; a man of whom
enemies m ly say, sarcastically, that he
i "near" man, a "sharp" man, a man
) "can push his way in the world;" yet
t the world's work?and good work, too
i done by him, and the like of him;
ie far more successfully, far more nobly,
a by your great geniuses, who aim at
rytliing and effect little or nothing;
r grand incompletenesses who only sadone
by the hopelessness of their
ure9. Better tlnm to bo ft poet, whose
able life lacs hnltinnlv behind bin nnKia
try; a statesman, who tries to mend the
Id nnd forgets that the lirst thing to bo
ided is himself; or a philanthropist, who
>8 ail mankind, but neglects his own
lily?hotter far than all these in the long
is the thorough man of business, the
et of whoso career is ?1?9 one simple '
iitu, "Anything worth doing at all is
th doing well."
I'Latever else people might say of John \
-or lia nod tWev hnyo aairt *nncb. 1
1 bad lina good, during his nte of nearsixty
years?they always said of him ]
t; that he had never shuflled out of an
lertaking, nor bioken a promise; never j
ged, boriowed, nor stolon?cheating is
iling? one shilling from any man; nnd
ugh his aims might not bo lofty, nnd
daily life far removed from the heroic,
I ho was a good, honest man, and (as I
eat, with exceeding respect for tho epit)
a thorough man of business,
tut there was nothing the least interestabout
him. His liguro was short and
mpy, and his gray hair bristled funnily
uil his Binootl), bald head. Ho could
, by any force of imagination, be turned j
> a romantic porno 'age. That his life j
i had its romance was not improbable;
' lives aro without. It might have been
ho knows??connected with a certain
ve (which Mrs. Knowlo onco found
m visiting her own littlo gravo in Hale
irehyard, and ever after looked kindlier
tho mau for tho sake of it), which bora
inscription, "Jane, wifo of Mr. John
iverbank" (he was not Esquire then),
10 died in childbirth, was here interred
b her infant son," nearly forty years
tut so completely forgotten had been
i episodo in his lire, that most people
light John Boworbank an old bachelor;
i when ho grow in years and honors, so
ch so that it was rumored that ho had
lined being made Sir John Bowerbauk
oly because knighthood was a small
tig, and baronetcy, to a man without
rs, a blank sort of dignity, nobody Busted
ho would marry; nor, when ho did
rry, was ho suspected of marrying in
r but a busiuoss-liko way?to securo a
nsant mistress for his splendid house, a
terful companion for his declining years,
d, let the truth bo owned, he did mnrrjt
y for this, lie was not one bit in lovei
o solitary passion of his life had blazed
and burned itself out, or rather been
iuguislied by the hand of fate, and it
? too late to light up any other.
Ic did not marry Emily Kendal for love,
- which, perhaps, was tho secret of hei
?ujr tuiinfuuu^' iu uiuiijr uuu?uuu xic
do any foolish pretense of doing bo
respected her character, l.e liked hei
II, in a tender, fatherly sort of way; but
me, wife of Mr. -John Howorbnnk," now
eping in her peacolul grave, need not
. e had the slightest jealousy over, nay,
uld hardly liavo recognized the middle*
id gentleman who was the "happy bride>om"
that sunshiny morning in St
orgo's, Hanover Square.
'erhaps this was a good thing fc.
lily. In her husband's unexaetiu^
1 undemonstrative regard, more paterthan
lover-like, she found the rest
ich was the only thing for which
> craved; and 111 his steady, sedate,
rsistent character, which aimed at noth;
higher than it accomplished, and
iglit from her no more than sho wa?
o to give, she found a little of the com*
t which sho once thought was hopoless
her in this world. She. who had bocmn
> with u girl's dreams of perfection, and
ivod them nil false, who, in hor weakis
weaker than most woman's?had
nod on one stay after another, and found
ui all pierce her like hrokon reeds, ex itneod
in her t ulin, cold marriage with
s kind, good, practical man, a certain
ice, which after all the temp *sts of lior
ith, was not without its soothing charm.
;o, to one of her weak, hesitating nature,
i mere sense of her fute beinu irrevocasetllcd
of leaning on somebody, and
t ing somebody on w hom she was bound
loan of passing out of the llowery
ils and dark precipices of her troubled
) into the smooth, bard, iron tramway of
ly, conveyed a feeling of relief.
'or the first three months of her marge
everybody said how well Mrs. John
werbank was looking; better than anvily
ever expected to seo Emily Kendal
k in this world; for most people had set
r down as (ho doomed inheritor of her
itlier's disease consumption, decline,
opby -whatever name bo given to the
I ward tokens of an inward grief which
Is the spring of youth, and makes life
veaiiness, and the gra\o tho only rest.
It cannot be said that inarriago caused
7 great change in John Bowerhank; n?
was too old for that. Bat ha loat aoma
of his crotohety, old baohelor ways; morad
with a certain air of contentment and
pride abont hla handsome house, and
was carefully mindful of his delicate
and sweet-looking young wife, whom
he took to state dinner parties, and
introduced among the blooming, florid,
and a little too conspicuously dressed
Liverpool adies, where she looked not
unlike a lily of the valley in the midst of a
bed of tulips and rannncnlaBes.
So tliev lived their lives, those two. Not
a domestic life by any means; Mr. Bowerbank
had never been used to that, nor Mrs.
Bowerbank neither. She had dreamed of
it once; of the honor and happiness of being
a poor man's wife; of mending his
shirts and stockings; of looking after his
dinners and makiug the best of everything;
counting no economies mean that were to
lighten the toil of the bread-winner; no labors
hard that were to add to his comfort.
But this WAS lint P.nii 1 v'a lot Sha m
rich woman, married to a rich man; nothing
was expected of her but elegant idleness.
Once this might have been to her
weariness intolerable; but she bad long
been passive and langnid, glad to do nothing,
and to be just whatever Bhe fancied,
since nobody ever insisted upon her being
anything?a' life that some would have
called happy, and, especially in its outside
aspect, have envied exceedingly.
l,Sbe'san old man's darling," said one
of the young Liverpool ladies, commenting
on Mrs. Bowerbank to her
neighbor and occasional, thongh not
very intimate, visitor, Airs. Knowle.
"It's better, anyhow, than being 'a young
man's slave.'"
"I'm not sure of that," half-grimly, halfcomically,
replied the other. "I hope, my
dear, you'll no pretty much of a slave to
your husband (as I nin this day to Edward
Knowle), or you'd best not marry at nil."
But such love-servitude was not Emily's
lot. She never trotted nftor John Bowerbank
with his big boots in the morning, or
brushed his coat, or found him his gloves;
she never ran to open the door of evenings
or settled his cushions for his after-dinner
sleep. They had servants to do that, so
why should* she? In truth, it never occurred
to her to do it.
She dressed herself carefully and sat at
the head of her husband's table; she drove
In her husband's carriage about the country?solitary,
peaceful, meditative drives;
or sho paid a few courtesy calls after the
entertainments to which, arrayed in the
most perfect of costumes, he seemed
pleaseu to take her. He never was cross
with her; never asked her if she was
happy; tried, doubtless, in his own way,
to make her so, for he was a kindly nntured
man; but ho was not observant, nor
gpnflilivr? nnr r.vor ovmnoiliniie
ho was old, and all his youth, if he ever
had any, had been buried long ago in Hale
churchyard.
Mrs. Knowlo told, not at the time, but
afterward, how, one Christinas Day, which
was one of the rare holidays at the Exchange?and
Mr. Bowerbank was a man
who never took a holiday illegally?she
saw him crossing tho long, frosted
gross of this said churchyard, alone,
though he bod not been married many
months, to stand by that grave, of which
tho mossy headstono still remained, but
the mound had long grown level with the
turf. If his eyes oould have peered below,
he would have found no thing of wife
humble, hearth; possibly another child
might
Yes, this was what they said of him, the
ill-natured portion of his friends; how,
pinco the oiler of the baronetcy, a certain
dawning pride of race, tho truly English
wish to found u family, had come into the
head of grave John Bowerbank; that accordingly
he had, in his grave ond practical
way, conceivod the idea, howevor late
in life, of marrying, and had accordingly
looked round on all his eligible young lady
acquaintances, until, in his practical eyo,
ho found one who, for her own sweet sedateness,
ho thought would be a suitable
mate for an elderly man; and accordingly;
without much inquiry as to her footings,
and having, indeed, arranged the whole
matter in the most business-like fashion
with bis old acquaintance, ber father, be
married Emily Kendal.
But whon, after a year?the baronetcy
being agnin offered ond accepted?there
appeared no heir to these honors, undoubtedly
Sir Jolm was very much disappointed.
Of courso, he did not show it; be
was too good a man for that; but the
placid mien became colder ond colder; and
though they wore not unhappy?it takes a
curtain amount of hope even to create disonnninimonf
ct ill /low l*o il.iir IVia hna
**P!/VIUI1UVUV ""II, v*??j MJ UUJ, iuu uuo- I
band and w'fe wont more their own I
ways; saw loss and loss of one another, as
is quite oasy in tho daily lifo of wealthy
people, who have, or think they havo so,
many duties owed to their position and to
society. And though Emily still smiled?
her soft, languid, wistful smile?and nobody
ever said an unkind word to her, and
she, dear soul, had never said an unkind
word to anybody in her life, still her
cheok grew paler and paler, her eyes grew
laruer and larger, with a sort of lar-away
look, as if gazing forward into a not distant
heaven for something on earth never found
?something lost or incomplete?something
without which, though a mnn should
give'the whole substance of his house for,
it would bo utterly in vain.
Marriage must be hoaven or hell. Not
at first, perhaps, for time softens and
mends all things; but aftor time has had
its fair license and failed; and then
comes the dead blank* the hopeless endurance,
even if the shorpor pangs do not
intervene; the feeling that the lost chance
in life has been tuken, the last die thrown
?and lost.
Probably John Bowerbank did not feel
thus; his feelings were nover remarkably
keen: and ho had his business, his days
occupied on 'Change, and bis evenings devoted
soveral times a week, to the long,
splendid, intensely dull and entirely respectable
Liverpool dinner parties. But
his wife, left all day at home, with no duties
to fill up tho idle, aimloss, weary
hours, with no children of her own, and
too listless and inactive to adopt the substitute
of other childless matrons?Mrs.
Knowle. for instanna nnd la'ke evorvbodv
elso's children, who needed it, nnder her
motherly wing?to such ns poor Emily, a
mnrringo liko hers most resembles being
slowly frozen alive in the lako of gilded
torment, which forms the horror of ono of
the circles of Danto's Hell.
Bnt nobody knew it. Her father, engaged
in the same dining-ont existence
in London that her husband, in a
lesser and more harmless degree, enjoyed
in Liverpool, never visited her, seldom
wrote to her. When ho did, his letters
breathed the most enviable St lf-satisfaction
that ho had done the very best for
her; that she was perfectly happy; and it
wns he, her affectionate father, who had
secured, after his own pattern- which, of
course, was infallible?herconjugal felicity.
And all the world, his world especially,
went on as usual, and the people who had
most discussed the marringe, pro and con,
till the heat of wordy war stretched over a
wide area between its two points of Liverpool
and London; even these subsided, as
all people so soon subside after every marriage,
into leaving the two concerned to
bear their own cross or enjoy their own
content. For, after all, it is their own
business and nobody's else; which it was
from the very first, if their affectionate
friends conld have believed so.
[TO n2 CONTINUED.J
SABBATH SCHOOL
INTERNATIONAL LESSON FOR
MARCH lO.
Lostton Text s " Th^ Child-Like
Spirit." Mark lx? 33-*2?
Golden Text: M%rk x,
15-*-Co m m en t ary.
13. "And they brought young children to
Him, that Ho should touch tbem" Matthew
says "that He should put His hands on them
and pray." Israel was taught to give great
heed to tho children, and many were their
instructions to teach them concerning the
wonders which God had wrought lor their
fathers and the laws which He had given
thein (Ex. xii., 2(1; Deut. iv? 10., vi., 7; xi., 9;
| Jo?h.:iv., 21.88; Fk lxxviil.. 4-8), and now
that tho fulSllment of the law and tit* vfry r
wonder working God.of Umel. was in their
midst,was it not beautiful to bring the children
to Him.*
"His disciples rebuked those that brought
them." Tho generation who speak thus have
not died out: they are selfish and cannot bo
bothered with the children; they are blind
and know not the spirit of Christ, though
professing to be His people. Where the
spirit of Christ is there will bo not only love
for tho children, but they wdl l>e brought to
Jesus.
14. "When Jesus saw it He was much dis
pieasoti." i uunk this is the only time that
it is written that He was displeased with the
disciples, though they did often grieve Him
by their unbelief and hardness of heart.
"Suffer the little children to come ucfco Me,
and forbid them not, for of such is the
kingdom of God." What a word this is for
those who teach the little ones, and for
mothers at home; remember Jesus never
changes; Ho is ever the samo; therefore
bring the little ones to Him, dedicate them to
Him, train them up for Him and count them
His from their very childhood.
15. "Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom
of God as a little child he shall not enter
therein." A little child such as these (Luke
calls them infanta) has nothing, needs everything,
is entirely helpless and depondont, and
believes what it is told; and when wo come
in this spirit of utter helplessness, emptiness
and simple faith, professing not to
bring anything with us, but ready to receive
the salvation which Gai is ready to give ?s
a free and unmerited favor, then shall wo be
lorn ntpiin, a foretaste of the kingdom come
in our hearts, and in duo time wo shall enter
the kingdom.
Hi. "He took them up in His arms, put His
hands upon them and blessed thorn.' Oh,
happy children and linppy parents! they
would never forget that day. We do not
know who they were, nor auvtbing of the
after life of those children, but surely we
shall meet in the kingdom the children whom i
Jesus took in His arms and blessed. It is not( ;
possihio that this unchangeable Jesus can be' i
indifferent to the welfare of any of the ;
multitudes of infants which are constantly
passing out from this earth. I>et every ]
mother who has lost a babe llnd comfort i
here, aud also read Carefully Luet i., 3M. s
17. "Good Master, what shall I do that I
may inherit eternal life." Here is n young \
roan, a ruler among the people, and very rich (
(Matt, xix., 28; Luke xvlii., IS, 2$: and ac- 3
cording to this verse in our lesson, he comes ,
running and kneels right down in the street
before Jesus, and in the presence of the peo- ]
pie, and utters these words. He docs cer- t
tainly soom in earnest, and ho does not seem
to caro what people may think or say j
of him; he wanti eternal life and is ready to |
do an v good thing that he may get it. He has .
wealth and influence end. nofr many*churches .
hkrrtlBr' tn "h?
they would get him in; he would i
be such a power, Yoii^ know, and such a nice ]
young man. But be is dealing with One 1
who seeks his soul fend not bis money or in- '
fluence. ' . '
IS. "None good but one, that is God." As J
if to say, "God is the only one who is goo 1, 1
do you acknowledge Mo as God?" "Ho that '
cometh to God must believe that He is, and J
that He is a rewarder of them that diligently
seek Him" (Heb. xi., fi).
19. "Thou knowest tho commandments."
Matthew says: "If thou wilt enter into life
keep the commandments." fc>o also in reply J
to tho lawyer who asked a similar question
to that of this young ruler, Jesus referred
him to the law, saying: "This do and thou I
shall live" (I.uko x). Now wo know that by !
the deeds of the law there shall no llesh be i
justified in His sight, and that the law can- i
not give life, but can only make us out sin- i
ners nnd shut our mouths (ltom. iii., 19, 20;
Gal. iii., 21, 22): why, then, did Jesus direct i
this man to the law? Surely that ho might
bo convinced of sin and thus led to receive i
eternal lifo as a free gilt from God. i
20. "Master, all these have I observed from ]
my youth." He was no s nner in his own
eyes, but a righteous man, having always
kept the law as he thought, nnd was now
ready to do something more if he could thus
obtain eternal life. Ho was ignorant of
God's righteousness and going about to establish
his own. 'Rom. x., 1-4.)
21. "One thing "thou lackest." But that
one thing was everything. He was no holpless,
dependent, empty-handed little child;
he was full of wisdom nnd riches and righteousness,
and to receive eternal life he must
first be emptied of these, and led to see himself
as only a sinner in the sight of God
| justly deserving His wrath.
22. "He was sad at that saying nnd went
away grieved." He made his choice, and
| preferred present things to things unseen, his
wealth rather than Christ, his ease rather
l n.? !ln.? ?i;I._ u?? ?1.?
esteemed the reponch of Christ greater
: riches than the treasures in Egypt, for he had
I respect unto the recompense of the reward; |
I or rail), who suffered the loss of all tilings
that he might win Christ and lie found in
Him. (Heb. xi., 2>; Phil, iii., H.) The practical
question for us is: " Whnt is our choice,
and where is our treasure, and is Jesus more
to us than all else.'" For if any thing or any
one occupies a superior place to Christ in our
hearts and lives, His own testimony is that
we cannot ho His disciples. (Luke xi v., 2(1-22).
2.'$ 25. "How bard is it for them that trust
in riches to enter into the kingdom of Cod."
The heart can only have one supremo ruler,
and if that one is wealth, or pleasure, or
learning, or anything in this world, then the
only rightful ruler?the Ixird Jesus Christ?
is dethroned and a usiir|icr has His place,
Noither of these are in themselves sinful, hut
only when they lake the first place in us.
2<>, 27. "They were nstonishod out of measure."
(sod's thoughts and ways are so different
from ours that until we are wi.ling tolay
aside all our thoughts and opinions and simply
believe what Ho says, we will often l?e
sorely |?erplexed; and if anv one prefers
their own thoughts and ways to those of
God, thoy will continue in darkness and not
have felt that fellowship with the Father and
the Son which is their privil ge. I/et all
reasonings lie cast down, and every thought
brought into captivity to tho obedience of
Christ (II Cor. x.. .*> . "With God all things
nro possible," an 1 all things are possible to
him that bolieveth (chap. ix., 22) whether he
lie rich or poor.
S5N-MI. "An hundred fold now, * * * with
persecutions,and in tho world to come eternal
life." We have seen the manner of en
itiniik biiu kiii^uuhi, iuiu mo uiikirninm to
entering it, from tlipso t wo object lessons of
the children and the rich young ruler, and
now, in answer to Peter's question, we have a
simple statement concerning the present
and future prospects of the folloxvor of
Christ. All trqe believers become blood relations
of each other--redeems 1 byr His
precious blood: all are to Him as moti.er and
sister and brother, and should be the same to
each other, one household of faith, members
of one family. Persecution? must follow if
we ore (Jodly, for the world and (Jod are not
in sympathy. Cod loves the world and s?eks
to save it; the enmity is all on the Ride of
the world and the natural man; but whoRoever
will l?o a friend of the world that
hates Ood cannot lie a friend of (Job (II
Tim. iii., 12; Jns. iv.. 4 ) Then, as to eter
nal life, it is true that wo have it now (John
v., 24; vi.. 47). hut we have it in mortal
bodies: it is only in the axe to come, after
the first resurrection, whon we see and bocomo
liko Jesus, that we can have it in its
fullness; we have the earnest now, but then
the full reality. ? Lesson Helper.
RELIGIOUS READING.
"On Grout Waters."
The ship has crossed the harbor bar,
And leaving home and friends afar,
Bails forth beneath the evening star.
With prayer of watchers left behind,
It sails before the springing wind:
Strong is tne baric, and Ooa is kind.
O, baby souls, sent forth from heavou,
To you the sea is also given?
A weary struggle to be striven 1
Ye tpo liavo left the light of homo
For warring winds ana waves?to roam
Across a dreary waste of foam;
And what shall be the end for ye?
Dark shipwrock in the midmost sea?
Or triumph to eternity?
Fear not; fop if ye bravo the blast
?With Oca's own t-osorfat the w?% ?.
The haren will ba sure at last.
?Arth?r L. Salmon in Good Words.
Studies of Conscience.
The Rtudies of conscience, furnished b.>
Shakespeare in his Macbeth and Richard III.,
and by Hugo in his "Los Miserablos," are
significantly supplemo iUxi from another
point of view. Inspector Barnes of N.-w
York is not a genius, but a detective, and iu
sj>euking of meth(xls with a reporter the
other day, he ssid:
"Tho great lieutenant of every jxilice officer
that mysterious thing called conscience.
Yet let a man try to deceive himself
and lie to hims.-lf altout himself, ami
that something comes knocking up against
the shell of his I ody, and thumping on his
ribs with evorv heart-beat, and
pounding on his skull until his
bead aches and he wishes ho were
dead, and groans in agony for relief. It is
the same conscience that makes a criminal
'give himself awav,' if one only knows how
to awaken it or stir it into activity. I never
let a man know for what he is arrested. He
may have committed a doren or more crimes
of which I know nothing. If I look him up
alone and leave him to the black walls and
his guilt}- conscience for three or four hours,
while he pictures the possible punishmcut
due him for ?>i his crimes, he conies presently
into my hands like tho soft clay in tho
hands of the jxitter. Then he is likely to toll
me much more than I had over suspected."
Awake!
"Awake, thou that slecpest, and arise from
the dead, and Christ shall give thee light!"
Awake before tho archangel trump #ill on
thee to awake. Klmkc oil your spiritual
slumber before you Ix? called 011 to shnko oil'
your mortal coil. Rift up your eyes, ev? u
now, to the Saviour lifted up for you, that
you may not have to lift them up at last
where thero is no Saviour to
look to. Hav not, "If I am asleep, I am
not rosixmsible." You are not in this
sense asleep. You are responsible; for
you are an-agent rational, intelligent, moral,
voluntary unfettered, and free. You
are responsible, lor (t<xl loves you; Jesus has
lied for you; tho Holy Spirit is now striving
with vou; a full and free salvation lies at
your hand; and a lido of saving iufluenco
has all along been sett ng in upon you, and
so-.-king ingress into your mind and
your heart. You are lesjxjnsiblc;
forj if you believe man, you can
ueiievo ltort: you can give that attention
to the Bible which you lavish on the
thln?j* of ' time; yon can think?? ?*
you ?xeft on your business or pleasures; an<l
[f you are reluctant to do so, this is not your
misfortune, re neiuber, but your dimming
crime. Awake, then, thou sleeper; live, ye
lead! Hear tho life-giving voice of the Hon
nf God?hear, and your soul shall live. Flee
In time from the wrath to come. "O earth,
earth, earth, hear tho word of the Lord!"?
Dr. Guthrie.
Silent Forces.
The late Dr. Alexander Clark thus beautifully
illustrates the efficacy of silent force's:
Workmen in stone quarries sometimes find a
very hard kind of rock. They pick little
grooves for tho iron wedges into the flinty
rock. And yet, once in a while they fail to
divide the solid mass. The iron wedges and
sledges prove useless, and the workmen wonder
at the stubborn rock.
There is another way. The iron wedges
are removed from the narrow grooves. Then
little wooden wedges of a very hard fibre are
selected. Now you begin to shake your heads
and think: "Well, if iron wedges will not do,
how is it possible for wooden wedges to Ikj
used successfully?" Just wait until we explain.
The sharp, well-made wooden
wwlges are first put .into water. They are
then inserted into tho grooves tightly, while
wet, and water is k- pt in ihe grooves, and
no sledge is needod to dr ve thein. They
would break under the severe blows of the
hammer. But the workmen just let the
wedges alone. They will do what the iron
failed to do. How so? The damp wood
swells. Tho particles must have room
enough to enlarge. And the granite heart
<>i uiu I IK K I'nniiui resist iiiik Minn in- |
flunnce. In a little whilo the solid rock
parts froiu top to bottom, and the workmen's
will is accomplished.
It is so, o'ten, in other things; what
noise and visible effort fail to do, some
quiet js>wer when applied will surely
achieve. Teachers may remember this fact
in mechanics, and manage some stubliorn
natures by the application of the sil-nt
fo ces. The iron and the sledge hammers
often fail, but tears, prayers, and a patient
examplo under God never fail.
Our Public .Schools.
In the current number of tlie Presbyterian
It 'view is a clear, forcible and able article
upon the question, "Are our Public Schools
Godless?" The reply is, First, Not bv their
origin. The American school of our fathers
was in its aims, exercises and text-books a
Christian school. Mac i in the historical
sense is tlio "American Public School."
"The motive which urged our fathers to the
establishment of schools, was proft ssedly
drawn from religion." For nearly two centuries,
no one lis{?oti the idea that a godless
school wns tlio logical outcome of a Christian
free State.
Secondly. They aie not Godless by any
constitutional or statutory requirement.
Ixmg after the constitution went into operation
the j>ower of taxation for the support of
reliorion 111 the Protestant form was actually i
exorcised in some of the States. That power
still exis's and might Ik* oxercisod by any
State to any extent and in favor of Christianity
or any other religions system.
The nnthor of the articl , Rev. II. D.
J nkins. I). I)., thinks it is high time to come
to a halt in yielding to the demand for (todless
public schools, and tlint ti e last parley is
now in prog re-s. He denes with the remark,
"One thing is absolutely certan, Christianity
is ever increasing in power, and, in the long
run, will never tolerate the absurd and aggressive
da ms of modern infidelity. The
system of public schools must be hold, in its
sphere, true to the claims of Chris ianity, or
they must go, with all other enemies of
Christ, to the wall."
'Tin but a short journey across the isthmus
of now.?Uovee.
If in tho day of sorrow we own God's
f>resenco in the cloud, we shall find Him a so
n the pillar of fire, brightening and cheering
our w ay as tho night coinen on.
Those who retire from tho world on account
of its s:n and peskines*, must not forgot
that they have yet to keep com|>any with
a person who wants just as much watching
as any!>ody else.
Christian graces are like perfumes; tho
moro they are pressed tho sweeter they smell.
Liko stars that shine brightest in tho dark;
like trees that are shaken; the deeper root
thevtake, the moro fruit they bear.
I
TEMPERANCE.
The Publlcnn'a Till.
I/st! to the click ot tlio publican's till,
As you pass by nls glittering temple of
sin.
How impressive the souud, when you think
of the ill
That is boing entailed on his victims
within.
Surrounding his spirit bar crowds may bo
eon,
Old and young of both sexes, all eager to
swill.
Some smoking, somo croaking, then bousing
between,
U'hiU ?I ??I?i.i. IV- VII 1
""" VUOJ uuip W IO|MOU1BU tuu ^uuuuaii 9
till.
Tbo till gets the proceeds of vice and of
crime.
And the hard earned wages of labor and
skill,
The pence of tho poor, 'hnnah Uw? <>
Are rao'iMiv of the publican's
UIL
If the coins in the till had but voices to
speak,
They might tell tales of grief that would
startle and thrill,
Of hearts that were broken, of homes
wrecked nnd bleak,
Aud of children starved through the publican's
till.
Tho seeds so sown at tho family board,
V\ bilo tho perilous drink cup false lessons
instill.
Is fruitful of habits that lead to discord,
liy paving the way to tho publican's till.
If the young, who in kindness, aro taught to
sip wine,
Could the futuro forsee it might mako their
hearts chill,
For thousands to ruin go down the incline.
And Income human wrecks round the
publicun's till.
In tho spring timo of life, when all seems
bright and fair,
What visions of happiness many minds fill.
Till awnkeued by suffering aud sorrow, ana
care,
Thev exitcrienco tho fruits of the publican's
till
Vast numbers drink daily, both women and
men,
As if duty compelled them a task to fulfil,
They practice their "nipping" oblivious that
tbon
They i>ro swallowing disease round the
publican's till.
Oh, how long shall tho people submit to the
Of tlio dr. mll ul drink-domon, who binds
but to kill?
Lot them strike off the yoke and true freedom
obtain,
And stop their supplies to the publican's
till.
?Richard Cameron, in Temjterance Record.
A Costly HabitThe
laborer who pays the saloonist twenty
cents per day, for four glasses of b or, or
two glasses of whiskey, spends soventy thrco
dollars annually for the beverage. With this
money, as prices now are, ho could purchase
six barrels of llour, two hundred |iounds of
Uigur, twenty-five bushels of potato '8, ton
pounds of tea, and twonty-llvo pounds of
coffee. So far as there several articles nre
concerned, tlio nbove amount would b?j ou
ample annual supply for * fsfuily of sixpersons,
perhaps A snndly at eight, parent
WhicirwSli'fce^
paternal airection? Suppose he belongs to
tlio Knights of Jjnbor, can ho plead for
a strike consistently so long as he worse
than wastes so vent)*-throe dollars? Must he
not strike against tlio saloon before he
can strike for higher wages, if ho would
challenge the sympathies of thoughtful meni
It uas this thought that completely changed
the life and pnrnos * of a bootmaker in Norfolk
County, Mass., a few years ago. lie
was a very niodei ato drinker?stcp|>ed from
his shop into a saloon near hy only twice a
day, and paid live cents each for two glasses
of l et r. "Over thirty dollars a year!'' he
snid within himself. "I could buy three barrels
of flour, live jHnnvIsof tea, tea pounds of
eolFoo nntl fifteen bushels of pot-itoes with
that money." He took his pencil and cast
tlio figures on a pieco of leather. "My
family need it, to,' ho thought: and tlio out
come of his thinking was: "I will novel
spend another cent for beer as long ns 1 live;'
and he never has.
Was he not wise? Is there any discount to
made on his judgment.' None at all, es
pccinlly when the reader learns that his do'*ision
became an era to his family. From thai
day, a laudable ambition, desire for bettei
education, love of books and journals, aspiration
for higher social life, grew in that
family: and at the end of ton years, tin
memliers of it moved in the most intelli
gent and influential circles. There is nothing
like a good, commanding idot to lift n
father and his fninilv into a nobler life. And
this Is wlint is needed, and all that is needed,
in thousands of families in our laud to-day.
The total abstinence idea is but one idea, ami
it may seem a small one to many men: but
it is big enough and strong enough to save c
multitude of laborers whom nothing else cm.
save.? Xationul Record.
In a Demon's Power.
The physiological secret of that progressiveness
of all stimulant passions, says Dr.
Oswald, in the I oice, is the gradual increase
of the depressing reaction, which infallibly
follows every abnormal irritation of the nervous
system. The jaded nerves fail to re?
spond to tho spur of tlio women sumuius,
while a more and more irksome depression of
tho vital spirit prompts the patient to relieve
his torpor at any price?too often the pric6
of lifelong bondage, clinched by a more corn*
( pleto surrender to the power of the demon
whose caressing embrace only secures s
firmer hold upon the throat of his victim
Mild stimulants soon become insipid, and by
degrees positively distasteful, to the more
and inoro decided appetite for stronger stiniu*
lant*. The increasing exorbitance of that
appetite thus not only constitutes a constant
temptation to worsj excesses, but also pro
vents the toper from retracing his steps tr?
the road to ruin.
There is, in that respect, a curious analogy
between the influence of moral and physical
stimulants. Tho chief objection to mind
enslaving passions is, pcrhnpe, not their di
re< t tomptation to acts of recklessness, but
the circumstance that their influence tends to
annul the attractiveness of less exciting enjoyments.
The historian Iocky, in his re
"con M.A niAcal ntiorrotinnunf tmorn*?
Rome, tracon the decline of art and harmless
pleasures to the indirect influence of the
gladiatorial games. "To men who wcro accustomed
to witness the fierce vicissitudes of
[ deadly eomlat," ho says, "any spectacle
that did not elicit the strongest excitement
was insipid. The idealized suffering of the
stage became unimpressive to those who
were habituated to tlie intense realism of the
ntnphithi atre. All the genius of a Kiddons
or a IUstori would fail to move an audience
who had continually seen living men fall
bleeding and mangled at their feet"
Dismantled His Saloon.
lairing a recent revival meeting at
Arkansaw Village, Pippin County. Wis ,
William Manierea. a saloon-keeper, rose and
with tears streaming down his cheeks declared
that he had been made to see his sins
and would no longer sell liquor. Followed
by a curious crowd he went to his saloon,
w here, with tho assistance of a Methodist
clergyman, ho smashed up his bar and
billiard-tables and poured his whisky and
In-er into tho streets. Mr. Manierea then
cat od the crowd into the dismantled saloon
and held a prayer-meeting. He then posted
up the following notice:
'To My V t lends: Having been led to set
the error of my ways 1 have cleared out mv
ration bus ness. 1 am determined by thf
grace of God to load an upright und Chris
Man life and have purchased a stock of flour.'
i ? Chicago Tim**.
SUMMARY OF OONaBESS.
The Senate.
aetrt Day.?A menage from the President
returning without bis approval a pension bill
for Etl win L. Warner, was presented, read,
and referred to the Committee on Pensions
....Among the lighthouse bills passed were
those for lights at the western end of Coney
Island, N. Y. ($35,000), for a lightship at the
wreck of tho steamship Oregon in New York
Harbor, and for a 1 ghthouse and fog liell on
Ovster tied shoal, in Hudson River (#85,000).
The House amendments for a lighthouse and
fog signal on Orchard Shoals, Princess Day,
New York, .were non-concurred in, and a
conference was asked....Tho request for a
conference on the House amendments to the
Senate bill granting a pension to Mrs. Sheridan
(reducing it from fctVX) to #3*00) was
withdrawn, and the amendments worn mn.
cur rod in.... Resolutions wore agreed to authorizing
tho Select Committee on Irrigation
to take testimony at any place in tho United
States, and^ authorizing the Committee on
hliin Investigation.
511th Day.?Mr. Polph roported back tho
Senate bill (vetoed by tho President) for the
relief of William It. Wheaton and Charles
H. Chamberlain of California, with a recommendation
that the bill pass notwithstanding
the*bbjections of tho President The vote resulted:
Yeas do, nays K So the bill was
mused.... Tho House amendment to the
Senate bill granting a pension of $ 100 a
month to the widow of Major-Ueneral Kilpntrick
was agreed to. The nmondment reduces
tho rate to $75... .The Senate nt 12:15
resumed consideration of tho Army Appropriation
bill. An amendment to tho Appropriation
bill providing $150,000 for the purchase
of 225 acres of land directly south of
the military reservation nt West Point, was
agreed to....Tho Hennto passed tho Array
Appropriation bill with amendments.
uoth DAY.?Tho Senate passed the bill
which prohibits tho erection of dams across
the rivers in Alaska for tho purpose of catching
salmon Mr. Piatt reported two bills
for tno formation and admission of tho States
Of Idnho and Wyoming....Mil Hoar reported
an amendment nppioi rinting $25,000
jor the detection nnd conviction of the persons
who illegally carried away and doktroyed
the Imllot loses of Phimmervllle,
Ark....On motion of Mr. Cullom. tho Hennto
proceeded to tho consideration of tho
Senate bill to nmend the Interstate Commerce
law.
Tho House.
0:ti) 1')ay.?The Senate amondmeuts to tho
Agricultural Appropriation bill were nonconcurred
in.... The Inst week of the Fiftioth
Congress was ushered in by filibustering, sot
in motion by Mr. Bland,won raised the point
| of no quorum upon tho approval of the
I journal. After a delay of a few minutes Mr.
Mland withdrew his point of order. In order
to enable c. I?. Uoolicr to mialify as the successor
of the lato James N, Humes. of Missouri
...Mr. Crisp then callod up tho contested
election case, and Mr. Mayors, In the
intoreat of the Deficiency Appropriation bill,
rnisod the quostion of consideration. Tho
Houso decided?yeas 115. nays 102?to consider
tho election case, but Mr. McKennn,
srho had voted in tho affirm itive for this
purposo, moved a reconsideration. Ali odorta
to got a quorum to voto failed.
(Htii Day.?Tho Speaker's tablo having
l*eou cloaroil of business, tho Kpmkor, acting
in conformity with tho special order, recognize
I Mr. Abbott, who culled up a bill for
tho erection of a public building at Kort
Worth, Texas.... Mr. Handall asked unanimous
consent to ro|>ort from the Committee
of Apnropr the Sundry
in tho Chair) on tho Dotlclency Approprla- I *>^3
tion Bill. AOer a brief concluding debate, l
the Deficiency bill was passed. ^
(VjTH'Day.?The conference report on the I fHd
District of Columbia Appropriation bill was I t V
debated....'fhe Indian Appropriations bill I V
was passed.... Obstruction tactics wore used 1 . '*?
to delay action on tho Cowles bill, and this
consumed tho rest of tho day's session.
PROMINENT PEOPLE.
bismawk now weighs only 1<>5 pounds.
Li lit Is the name of tho King of t'orea.
Tub notive caroer of M. de Lessops is over.
Mita. James O. Blaine has turned sixty.
John Biuoht is in his seventy-seventh
year.
The Hon. Lambert Troe hAs resigned as
Minister to Russia.
Batteniikrg, husband of Princess Beatrice,
is to l.u mnilo a Dnko.
Caranel, tlie French artist, left a fortune t
of more than $400,(XX).
Jav Gould is said to ixs completely under
the thumb of his son George.
The annual income of the young German
Emperor is estimated at $4,OOO.OJO.
Caul Bciiurz seems to have regained his
youth sinco his return from Kuropo.
Congressman W. L. Scott, of Erie, *
Penn., is worth probably $15,0'JU,000.
Queen Victoria saves moro than |5,500,000
per annum from the civil list alone.
Dh.Gati.ino, the in\outer of the famous
gun by that namo. is a North Carolinian.
Mils. Levi p. Morton speaks and writes
German, French and Spanish with ease and
correctness.
The Duke <7f Sutherland has bought a
firoperty in Florida, and renamed it Sutherland
Mm or.
C01.0nki, Fred Grant is getting very
much like his father in appearance, although
he is taller and heavier.
General Legitime, the Haytlan President,
Is described as looking like a '"Saratoga
hotel hoad waiter."
Andrew Carnegie, the millionaire iron
founder, begau his business career by sweeping
out an odlce in Pittsburg.
The growing iniluenco in Germany of
Count U'aldersoe has brought him into
prominence as a rival o* Bismarck.
Stanlev Brown, who married Miss Mollie
Garfield, will soon take u position in the
Geological Survey at Washington.
Jav Goui.d, of New York, has resigned as
director of the Delaware, Lackawanna and
Western Railroad, owing to ill health.
a white marble figure of the late Emperor
i William, aimilinr to the figures of his parents,
has been placed in the Charlottenburg mausoleum.
Wl i. i.i AM SuitDAV, a well-known member
of the Chicago baseball Club, is conducting
Sabbath rovivnl meetings in the Wcstorn
metropolis.
Mr. II. H. Johnston, the African explorer,
is now about forty-five year.* old; a
small, wiry roan, with bright eyes an I a
bronzed fa o.
Hir Morei.i. Mackenzie has been offered
(30,000, with i'iftOO additional for his > ?,
to come to America for the purpose of selecting
a spot for a sanitarium. Tliis offer was
declined.
Tub widow of Professor Richard A. Proctor,
residing in Florida, receives a pension of
(ftO ) a year, granted by the British Government
upon the request of the leading Englisb
scientist*.
John Mkvkrs, who took the chief part in
the Passion May at Ober-Ammergau in 18S0,
is getting ready for its repetition this year.
His preparation consists principally of lotting
his hair grow.
Poor King Otto's latest craze is a mania for
skating. This would bo harmless were it not
; for the fact thnt the Bavarian Monarch takes
a fiendish delight m skimming over the most
dangerous places, and compels his agonized
1 attendants to accompany him.
Rev. Roiikkt Coi.i.ibr, the famous New
York divino, has presented Cornell Univer?
slty with an old factory bell which has an
interesting hUtory. It was the bell that rang
( him to work every morning in his young
days and li*ed the time the day's toil was
i over. The bell will be used at Cornell for
summoning the students to theif classes,
38